He jumped like a wounded man.
“She is not dead?” he groaned.
“No,” said I; “not dead. Come in. She has sent for you.”
“Sent for me!” he cried, trying to dash by me.
“Wait,” I commanded. “Before you go, come into this reception room. This message is for you.”
He took the envelope, almost crunching it in his nervous fingers.
“Remember what I told you,” I cautioned him.
“Told me?”
“Yes. To be strong,” said I. “To be loyal.”
He nodded, then ran his finger under the flap. There were several sheets of thin paper folded within.