It grew weaker and weaker till it was scarcely audible.
Then Death took his hollow eyes off the clock and looked at the weary head; he raised his hand. Then all was still.
A grey shadow fell on the rigid features.
Silence, oppressive, unbroken silence!
Johannes sat and sat, waiting. But the regular sound was heard no more. All was still—a great, murmuring stillness.
The tension of the last hours of listening was over, and to Johannes it seemed that his soul had been let fall down into black and bottomless space. Deeper and deeper he fell. All about him grew darker and more silent.
Then he heard Pluizer's voice as if it were a long way off.
'There! That tale is told.'
'That is well,' said Doctor Cypher. 'Now you can see what was wrong with him. I leave that to you. I must be off.'
Still, as if half-dreaming, Johannes saw the gleam of bright knives. The cat set her back up. It was cold by the corpse, and she returned to the sunshine.