“He has not been lying here five minutes, or he would be covered with snow. So he may not be dead.”
Yes, they had found the body of Gentleman Geff within fifty yards of the rectory wall.
Through the dark night and blinding snow and distracting wind he had lost his reckoning and wandered in a circle until he had fallen down where they found him.
They lifted him up and bore him into the rectory to his own room, undressed him, wrapped him in blankets, and put him to bed.
He was in the deep sleep that precedes death by freezing. He only partially awoke while they were working over him; but he did not speak.
They gave him warm spiced brandy and water, which he swallowed mechanically.
All night long they watched and worked over him.
In the morning, when James Campbell left the sick-room to make his toilet before going to breakfast, he left Gentleman Geff in what seemed a good sleep.
But, while he sat at table explaining to his wife and daughter why he had been out of his room all night, Longman suddenly burst in upon them and said:
“Come in, for Heaven’s sake! He is taken with a hemorrhage that I think will carry him off!”