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Updated: June 11, 2025
There was a pool of blood under his pomatumed, powdered, and curled head, more under his right arm, which was slightly extended, with the open hand thrown palm upwards, as if appealing to heaven. Toole examined him. 'No pulse, by Jove! Quiet there! don't stir! Then he clapped his ear on Sturk's white Marseilles vest. 'Hush! and a long pause.
I think it so do you, Sir; and I offer five hundred guineas as your fee, and Mrs. Sturk's letter to bear you harmless. Then there was a pause. Dangerfield knew the man's character as well as his skill. There were things said about him darker than we have hinted at. The surgeon looked very queer and gloomy down upon the table, and scratched his head, and he mumbled gruffly
He did not know that the entire question had been settled in a minute-and-a-half, and that Cluffe was at that moment rattling away at backgammon with his arch-enemy, Toole, in a corner of the club parlour. It was not till Cluffe, as he emerged from the Phoenix, saw Sturk's figure stalking in the glimpses of the moon, under the village elm, that he suddenly recollected and marched up to him.
Toole was standing by the bedside, looking rather woefully and frightened on Sturk's face, and patting and smoothing the coverlet with the palm of his stumpy, red hand; and whispering to himself from time to time, 'Yes, yes, although with rather a troubled and helpless air.
So Lowe, who, with a thief or a murderer in the wind, had the soul of a Nimrod, rode round to the opposite bank, first telling Toole, who did not care to press his services at Sturk's house, uninvited, that he would send out the great Doctor Pell to examine the patient, or the body, as the case might turn out.
Toole, bustling up from the coach where his instruments, lint, and plasters were deposited. 'What's it all, eh? oh, Dr. Sturk's been with him, eh? Oh, ho, ho, ho! and he laughed sarcastically, in an undertone, and shrugged, as he stooped down and took O'Flaherty's pulse in his fingers and thumb.
Sturk's military cloaks about him, under the village tree, directing the double-fire of his spectacles down the street, with an incensed steadiness, unrewarded, unrelieved. Not a glimmer of a link; not a distant rumble of a coach-wheel. It was a clear, frosty night, and one might hear a long way.
But Devereux called him up peremptorily, for he wanted to hear the news especially all about the Walsinghams. And up came Toole, and they had a great shaking of hands, and the doctor opened his budget and rattled away. Of Sturk's tragedy and Nutter's disappearance he had already heard.
As Dangerfield, having parted company with Irons at the corner of the bridge, was walking through the town, with his rod over his shoulder and his basket of troutlings by his side, his attention was arrested by a little knot of persons in close and earnest talk at the barrack-gate, nearly opposite Sturk's house.
The fact is, Sturk's face had a leaden tint; he looked, evidently enough, even in that dim candle-light, a great deal worse than the curious Miss Mag was accustomed to see him. 'He's very low, to-night, and seems oppressed, and his pulse is failing; in fact, my dear young lady, he's plainly worse to-night than I like to tell poor Mrs. Sturk, you understand.
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