CHAPTER LVI.
AT HIS BEDSIDE.
Meanwhile Hilda's position was a hard one. Days passed on. The one who came to act as a nurse was herself stricken down, as she had already been twice before. They carried her away to another room, and Gretchen devoted herself to her care. Delirium came on, and all the past lived again in the fever-tossed mind of the sufferer. Unconscious of the real world in which she lay, she wandered in a world of phantoms, where the well-remembered forms of her past life surrounded her. Some deliriums are pleasant. All depend upon the ruling feelings of the one upon whom it is fixed. But here the ruling feeling of Hilda was not of that kind which could bring happiness. Her distracted mind wandered again through those scenes through which she had passed. Her life at Chetwynde, with all its later horrors and anxieties, came back before her. Again and again the vision of the dying Earl tormented her. What she said these foreign nurses heard, but understood not. They soothed her as best they might, and stood aghast at her sufferings, but were not able to do any thing to alleviate them. Most of all, however, her mind turned to the occurrences of the last few days and weeks. Again she was flying to the bedside of Lord Chetwynde; again the anguish of suspense devoured her, as she struggled against weakness to reach him; and again she felt overwhelmed by the shock of the first sight of the sick man, on whom she thought that she saw the stamp of death.
Meanwhile, as Hilda lay senseless, Lord Chetwynde hovered between life and death. The physician who had attended him came in on the morning after Hilda's arrival, and learned from the nurse that Lady Chetwynde had come suddenly, more dead than alive, and was herself struck down by fever. She had watched him all night from her own couch, until at last she had lost consciousness; but all her soul seemed bent on one thing, and that was that a certain medicine should be administered regularly to Lord Chetwynde. The doctor asked to see it. He smelled it and tasted it. An expression of horror passed over his face.
"My God!" he murmured. "I did not dare to suspect it! It must be so!"
"Where is Lord Chetwynde's valet?" he asked at length, after a thoughtful pause.
"I don't know, Sir," said the nurse.
"He always is here. I don't see him now."
"I haven't seen him since Lady Chetwynde's arrival."
"Did my lady see him?"