Two months later the old man has had a warning that his sands are nearly run. He asks his “dear old Tom Payne” to copy a paper which he has drawn up.
“You won’t d—— me, won’t you? I have not been well lately with violent palpitation of the heart, and I should not like to slip my wind without an attempt to secure for Juana the pension of my rank which must be an especial [one?]. I have consulted Yorke and Bell, who agree in my course; but, Tom, I am no nearer dropping off the hooks for doing this.
“Yours,
“Harry Smith.
“I write on my back to-day, but much better. Say nothing of all this.”
The following letter, addressed to Major Payne by Colonel Shadwell (Q.M.G. at Manchester), though of the nature of a false alarm, shows the coming of the end, and how it struck home to those who loved him.
“Manchester, 15th Sept. 1860.
“My dear Tom,
“You will probably have heard from London direct of our dear old friend Sir Harry’s alarming state. From Alice’s account this morning, he was yesterday morning in extremis, and ere this has most likely breathed his last.
“It has come like a thunderbolt on us, as only five days ago Lady Smith wrote to us in such good spirits about the dear old man.