"Not there, my dear fellow—on this side and lower down."
"Perhaps indeed! it doesn't matter what—if it must end my life; only tell me how long I shall live—minutes—or hours—or days?"
Dr. Hughes took the hand which still lay upon his heart, as if the pain were there, and clasping it in both his own said gently:
"A few hours! It grieves me to the heart to say this, Hugh Morgan, but I will not deceive you. I advise you not to move. Lie perfectly still and you may escape all pain."
Hugh's breast heaved with the panting breath, but he showed no other signs of distress.
"When I am gone, will you send for Mr. Lloyd the lawyer from Caer Madoc? he knows all my affairs. There will be less than I thought for Gwladys, owing to the fire; but still, thank God! there will be enough to keep her comfortably. I am sleepy."
"I will go, then," said Dr. Hughes, "and will come again." And he went softly down the stairs, to find Gwladys impatiently awaiting him.
"Oh, doctor, he will live, won't he? he is better, isn't he?"
"You must be brave, Gwladys," he answered gravely. "There is a terrible sorrow in store for you, and it depends upon how you bear it whether you make your husband's last moments peaceful or unhappy. May God strengthen you, merch i! Where is Mari Vone? she will be a comfort to you." And leaving Gwladys standing in stony despair, he drove to Mari's cottage, and in a few words told her of Hugh's impending death.
She did not speak a word, but, turning a shade paler, she prepared at once to leave the house to comfort Gwladys.