Well, I must see about getting some harpy in to minister to her final dumb necessities and then—
A low cry, coming from the other room, broke upon my ears. With beating heart I rushed from the death chamber only—merciful heaven—to enter another!
At the first glance I saw that the white spirit had entered during my absence and had written the sign of eternity on my father’s forehead. He was sitting up in bed and the expression on his face was that of a dreadful, eager waiting.
“Renalt!”
He called to me in a clear, loud voice—the recovered note of an old stronger personality.
I hurried to him; fell on my knees; put my arm about his shoulders.
“Renalt, I am dying—but not yet. The spirit won’t let me pass till I have spoken.”
He turned his head with a resolute effort and gazed upon me.
“What thing have I been—what thing have I been? Send me my enemies that I may face and defy them! Which of them worse than myself? Oh, craven—craven!”
“Father! I only am with you—no enemy, father!”