The doctor entered the room. "Where is our patient?" he said, as he advanced to the bedside. He was a man somewhat advanced in years, with bent figure and stooping shoulders. He was clad in an old-fashioned surtout, with nine or ten heavy capes hanging about his shoulders; and, as if to protect him from the cold, a bright-red kerchief was tied about his neck and the lower part of his face. He wore a black fur hat, with an ample brim, which effectually shaded his features.
The Colonel started at the sight of this singular figure. "Our friend of the blue capes, as I'm alive!" he muttered half aloud.
The doctor advanced to the bedside.—"You will excuse me for retaining my hat and this kerchief about my neck," he said in his mild voice, "I am suffering from a severe cold." He then directed his attention to the sick man, while Gulian and Tarleton watched his movements, with evident interest.
The doctor did not touch the merchant; he stood by the bedside, gazing upon him silently.
"What's the matter with our friend?" whispered Tarleton.
The doctor did not answer. He remained motionless by the bedside, surveying the quivering features and fixed eyes of the afflicted man.
"This person," exclaimed the doctor, after a long pause, "is not suffering from a physical complaint. His mind is afflicted. From the talk of the servants in the hall, I learned that he has this night lost his only son, by the hands of a murderer. The shock has been too great for him. My young friend," he addressed Gulian, who stood at his back, "it were as well to send for a clergyman."
Gulian hurried to the door, and whispered to the housekeeper. Returning to the bedside, he found the doctor seated in a chair, with a watch in his hand, in full view of the delirious man. The Colonel, grasping the bed-curtain, stood behind him, in an attitude of profound thought, yet with a faint smile upon his lips.
As for the merchant prince, seated bolt upright in the bed, he clutched the golden eagle, (which seemed to have magnetized his gaze), and babbled in his delirium—
"You an heir of Trinity Church?" he said, with a mocking smile upon his thin lips, "you one of the descendants of Anreke Jans Bogardus? Pooh! Pooh! The Church is firm,—firm. She defies you. Aaron Burr tried that game, he! he! and found it best to quit,—to quit—to quit. What Trinity Church has got, she will hold,—hold—hold. She buys,—she sells—she sells—she buys—a great business man is Trinity Church! And with your two hundred beggarly heirs of Anreke Jans Bogardus, you will go to law about her title. Pooh!"