His hand did not tremble once; on his brow there was no scowl; on his colourless lips no grim smile; but calm, as if he were about the most indifferent act of his life, and breathing regularly as if no unusual thought was in his mind, he finished the priming of those deadly instruments, and placed them in his pocket.
Once more did he read over his will; and then having set everything in order, rang the bell.
"Fetch a cab," he said quietly to the servant who entered.
"Are you going out, sir?" asked the astonished servant.
"Don't you see I am?"
"Yes, sir,—only you are but just out of bed...."
"I am quite well enough."
There was no reply possible. The cab was brought. He stepped into it, and drove to Mrs. Vyner's.
Although she was thinking of him at the very moment when he was announced, she started at the sound of his name. His appearance startled her still more. She saw that he could only just have risen from a bed of sickness, and that sickness she knew had been caused by the vehemence of his love for her.
Affectionate as was her greeting, it brought no smile upon his lips, no light into his glazed eyes.