The pity in the tone conveyed its message. A tremor ran over Chilly's face. There was a long moment's silence.
"Have I—much time?"
"Not very much," answered the other gently.
Chilly caught a breath that was half a sob. "Poor little Nancy!" he whispered.
He looked up at the men who stood about him, "I would like—" he said, hesitatingly but clearly, "I would be glad if some—explanation might be made of this—occurrence—which would not involve unnecessary pain to the Duchess. Perhaps that is—impossible. But I would—be grateful—"
One of the younger men leaned beside him. It was Lee Carter, his closest friend, who had brought him that afternoon from the Springs. "Dear old chap!" he said, brokenly. "I was standing just under it. You saw it topple and jumped to save me! That is how it happened! Every one of us saw it."
A wan smile touched the whitening lips, "Gentlemen all!" said Chilly, and closed his eyes.
He lay silent then—he was breathing with increasing difficulty. At length there was the sound of a motor halting outside, and Harry and the rest went out.
In the quiet of the room the door opened upon Judge and Mrs. Allen. She was deadly pale, her face frozen with anguish. She knelt beside the prostrate figure and took the cold hand of her son in hers.
"Chilly!" she cried. "My poor, poor boy!"