Our greetings were scarcely over, when Edgecumbe and Norah Blackwater came up. Immediately Springfield saw them a change came over his face. He had met Lorna Bolivick with a laugh, but as he saw Edgecumbe the laugh died on his face, while the scar on his cheek became more pronounced.
As far as I can remember, nothing of special note happened during the afternoon, but in the evening, just before dinner, I saw a ghastly pallor creep over Edgecumbe's face, and then suddenly and without warning he fell down like one dead.
CHAPTER XIX
A MYSTERIOUS ILLNESS
Of course Edgecumbe's sudden illness caused great commotion. Nearly every member of the family was present at the time, and confusion prevailed. Buller asked foolish questions, I was nearly beside myself with anxiety, Sir Thomas hazarded all sorts of guesses as to the reason of his malady, Norah Blackwater became nearly hysterical, while Lorna Bolivick looked at him with horror-stricken eyes.
The only two persons who seemed to retain their senses were Captain Springfield and Lady Bolivick. The former suggested that in all probability it was a sudden attack resulting from the life he had led in India, and also suggesting that a doctor should be sent for at once, while Lady Bolivick summoned the servants to carry him to bed immediately. Both of these suggestions were immediately acted on. A groom was dispatched to the nearest doctor, who lived at South Petherwin village, while a few minutes later Edgecumbe lay in bed with a look of death upon his face.
The whole happening had been so sudden, that I was unable to view it calmly. That morning he had looked more than usually well, so well that I could not help reflecting how much younger he appeared than on the day when I had first seen him. He had taken a long walk, too, and showed not the slightest sign of fatigue on his return. He had eaten sparingly, and had drunk nothing but water with his lunch, and a cup of tea at four o'clock. Yet at half-past six he had the stamp of death upon his face, he breathed with difficulty, and his features were drawn and haggard.
As I sat by his side, watching him until the doctor came, I remembered that for perhaps an hour before his attack he was very silent, and had moved around as though he were lacking in energy, but I had thought little of it at the time. Now, however, his condition told its own tale. To all appearances, he was dying, and we were all powerless to help him.
Of course dinner, as far as I was concerned, was out of the question, although, as I was afterwards informed, Captain Springfield made an excellent meal.
It was nearly eight o'clock when the doctor arrived, and never surely was a man greeted with more eagerness than I greeted him. For, as I have already said, I had grown to love Edgecumbe with a great love; why it was, I will not pretend to explain, but no man ever loved a brother more than I loved him, and the thought of his death was simply horrible.