But Phil suddenly dropped Felix's hand that he'd been rubbing, and bending down laid his ear on Fee's chest over his heart. I shall never forget the awful horror that was in his white face when he lifted it and looked at me across Fee's body. "Jack," he said in a slow, shrill whisper, that just went through my ears like a knife, "Jack, it's no use; Fee is—"
But I screamed out before he could say that dreadful word,—a loud scream that rang through the house and woke the people up.
In a confused sort of way—as if I had dreamed it—I remember that Nora came flying down the stairs in her dressing-gown and bare feet, and nurse hurrying behind her, both crying out in a frightened way,—something like, "Oh, lawkes! what have them boys been doin'?" and, "Oh, boys, boys! what is the matter?"
But Phil's answer stands out clear,—I can hear it every time I let myself think of that awful night. He had pushed me aside, and was sitting on the floor with Fee's body gathered in his arms, Fee's face lying against his shoulder. He looked up at Nora; his dry, white lips could hardly utter the words. "Fee is dead," he said; "I have killed Felix!"
XX.
A SOLEMN PROMISE.
TOLD BY JACK.
FOR a little while there was a dreadful commotion down there in the hall. Hannah and cook had come, too, by this time, and everybody was crying, and rushing about, and all talking at once,—telling everybody else what to do. Poor Nonie was awfully frightened; at first she couldn't do a thing but cry, and I was just as bad,—I'd got to that pitch that I didn't care who saw my tears.
But nurse kept her head splendidly; generally she gets all worked up over the least little sickness, but this time she kept cool, and told us what to do.