As Webber spoke he dropped the wrist, pocketed his watch, and made a sign to Lumsden.
"Can I take him up?" said the baronet.
"Yes. It doesn't matter now."
Bryan lifted the inert little body out of bed, held it to his breast, and put his face down on the wet curls.
"Squirrel! Squirrel!" he whispered once or twice, and held him closer.
"I can't hear anything now," he said at the end of a few minutes.
"Let me look at his eyes," said Webber.
Bryan gave a great wild laugh. "His eyes! Good God, man! what do you think you'll see there? Eyes? He never had any. He was born blind."
He laid the body tenderly down on the bed, put one hand across his face for a moment, and touched the weeping girl on the shoulder.
"Come down, Flash. I must send you home now. Don't cry so, girl! It's not fair. This is my funeral."