"What's that you say?" cried Jim, trying to appear as if he were scarcely able to believe that he heard aright. "Do you mean to tell me that Mr. Bursfield is dead?"
"Yes, sir," said the old man; "when I went into his study this morning to open the shutters, I found him seated at his table in the arm-chair stone dead. I ran up at once to Miss Helen's room to tell her, only to find that her bed had not been slept in. Me and my wife searched the house for her, but she is not to be found anywhere. Oh, sir, what does it all mean?"
"It means that Miss Decie came to my house last night at about eleven o'clock. Mr. Bursfield's condition was such that she was afraid to remain in the house with him any longer. You must have noticed that he has been very strange of late?"
"The poor old gentleman has been ailing for some days past," Isaac replied. "He always was quick tempered, but for the last month or so he doesn't seem to have been able to control himself. Perhaps it isn't right for a servant to say it, sir, but there 'ave been times lately when I 'ave been afraid that his reason 'ave been a-failing him. There was a time when he couldn't make enough of Miss Helen, but lately he's been scarce able to speak civil to her. It's a sad thing, sir, a very sad thing, especially for a servant that's worked for him true and faithful for nigh upon forty years."
"His fit of rage last night must have hastened the end," said Jim. "The news you bring will affect Miss Decie very painfully. You had better go back and send at once for the doctor; I will return to the Manor House and tell Miss Decie."
"I humbly thank you for your kindness, sir," the man replied. "I will do what you say, and perhaps you will be kind enough to come over later."
When he had extracted the other's promise he hobbled off, and Jim returned to his own house. He found Helen and Alice in the hall, standing before the great fireplace in earnest conversation. He bade them as cheery a good morning as was possible under the circumstances, and when he had done so his sister enquired why his throat was wrapped up so closely.
"It's a trifle sore this morning," Jim replied, with some truth. "That's all. It will be all right very soon."
He then suggested that they should go in to breakfast. He had determined to break the news of Mr. Bursfield's death to Helen after the meal. This he did with great gentleness. The shock, however, was a severe one, nevertheless, but she did her best to meet it bravely.
"Poor old grandfather," she said after a while, "I always feared that his death would come like this. Oh how sorry I am that he should have died believing that I had ceased to love him."