'The nurse,' he added, 'is very attentive and punctual. She
writes almost every day.' A servant entered with a salver heaped with
letters. Mr Arbuthnot tossed them over eagerly, and seizing one, after
glancing at the post-mark, tore it eagerly open, muttering as
he did so: 'It is not the usual handwriting; but from her, no
doubt'----Merciful God!' I impulsively exclaimed, as I suddenly lifted
my eyes to his. 'What is the matter?' A mortal pallor had spread over
Mr Arbuthnot's before animated features, and he was glaring at the
letter in his hand as if a basilisk had suddenly confronted him.
Another moment, and the muscles of his frame appeared to give way
suddenly, and he dropped heavily into the easy-chair from which he had
risen to take the letters. I was terribly alarmed, and first loosening
his neckerchief, for he seemed choking, I said: 'Let me call some
one;' and I turned to reach the bell, when he instantly seized my
arms, and held me with a grip of iron. 'No--no--no!' he hoarsely
gasped; 'water--water!' There was fortunately some on a side-table. I
handed it to him, and he drank eagerly. It appeared to revive him a
little. He thrust the crumpled letter into his pocket, and said in a
low, quick whisper: 'There is some one coming! Not a word,
remember--not a word!' At the same time, he wheeled his chair half
round, so that his back should be towards the servant we heard
approaching.
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