We, too, after a little moved into that inner room. There the mother of Robinson lay dying, and it was there that I first laid eyes on Dr Burton.
He was standing, with a stole on, at the further side of the bed, and a murmur of rapid words was coming from him.
At the near bedside were two of the villagers, with a lay sister from the Poor Clares at Up Hatherley, and Miss Emily; the little place was very dingy, but Dr Burton's face was towards us as we entered: I saw Langler bow austerely, but the Doctor looked through him with a vacant gaze.
The appearance of Dr Burton was impressive: his waistband circumferenced a hemisphere of paunch, so that the hem of his frock stuck well out in front of his toes, and he was also thick about the shoulders, chest, and throat; his brow, invaded all round by close-cropped hair, had a scowl, and his mouth a pout; his complexion was of a red brown. I heard him mutter: "by this holy unction, and through His great mercy, Almighty God forgive thee whatever thou hast sinned by sight...." And his right thumb anointed the eyelids of the dying with oil.
And again he ran on in a rapid recitative: "by this holy unction, and through His great mercy, Almighty God forgive thee whatever thou hast sinned by hearing...." And his right thumb smeared the ear of the dying with oil.
I saw Miss Emily bridle a little. In Dr Burton's left hand was an old Sarum liturgical book in pigskin, and on he droned: "by this holy unction, and through His great mercy, Almighty God forgive thee whatever thou hast sinned by smelling...." And his thumb noted the nose of the poor old woman with oil.
Except this cantering mutter and a death-ruckle on the bed all was still in the darkling room. Miss Emily stood at the head, parted from Dr Burton by the breadth of the bed, I with her. And once more the drone was droning: "by this holy unction, and through His great mercy, Almighty God forgive thee——"
But now there was an interruption: the little old woman for some half minute had been making some effort—to speak or to move—and now she lifted her head, opened her eyes, and whispered something to Miss Emily. Her words, as I afterwards learned, were: "ah, Miss Emily, tell him to stop ... dear, good soul he is ... my poor son...."
Her head fell back upon the pillow. It was clear that her strength had already been well tried before our entrance, for on a table near the bed were the bell, light, and cross of the Blessed Sacrament, with the pyx wrapped in linen. But at the interruption Dr Burton stopped; his face darkened, and forth went his arm, pointing to the door.
"All leave the room," cried he with a gruff brogue.