He will die."
"I hope not," said Cuthbert, impulsively.
The physician looked at him benignly. "I differ from you," he
declared, "death will come as a happy release to Lord Caranby.
For years he has been suffering from an incurable complaint
which gave him great pain. But that he had so much courage,
he would have killed himself."
"He never complained."
"A brave man like that never does complain. Besides, he took
great care of himself. When he came back to London he was
fairly well. I think he must have done something rash to
bring on a recurrence of his illness. Within a few days of
his arrival he grew sick again. In some way he over-exerted
himself."
"I don't think he ever did," said Mallow, doubtfully.
"But I am certain of it. Within a week of his arrival here he
had a relapse. I taxed him with going out too much and with
over-exertion, but he declined to answer me."
"Will he become conscious again?"
"I think so, in a few hours, but I cannot be sure. However,
you need not be alarmed, Mr. Mallow. His affairs are all
right. In view of his illness I advised him to make his will.
He said that he had done so, and that everything was in
apple-pie order."
"It is not that, doctor. I wish to ask him some questions.
Will you remain here?"
"Till the end," replied Yeo, significantly; "but it will not
take place for a few hours, so far as I can see."
"I wish to go out for an hour. Can I, with safety?"
"Certainly.
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