Fainter and fainter even than the first.
Yet full of pent-up suffering.
A sound that told a whole tale of anguish.
"Mathias, come to me," she called again.
"Oh-h-h!"
A fearfully prolonged groan came down to her, louder than before, as if the sufferer had put all his remaining strength into the effort.
Then all was silent.
Eagerly she listened, straining forward to catch the faintest breath.
But the voice above was stilled for ever.
And yet the drip, drip, drip continued, and as she stretched forward beneath the chimney, she caught the drops upon her face.