sobs, he put a handkerchief to his mouth, took it away, and looked up at me with dry eyes.
"Go away, little one, Don't come again: I am going to die very soon now."
I stole out, awed and silent, and went home. But the picture of him kept me awake that night, and early in the morning I dressed and ran off to the glass-house.
He was still sitting as I had left him.
"Why have you come?" he asked, harshly. "I have been coughing. I am going to die."
"Then I'll fetch a doctor."
"No."
"A clergyman?"
"No."
But I ran for the doctor.
Fortunio lived on for a week after this, and at length consented to see a clergyman. I brought the vicar, and was told to leave them alone together and come back in an hour's time.
When I returned, Fortunio was stretched quietly on the rough bed we had found for him. and the Vicar, who knelt beside it, was speaking softly in his ear.
