They were dragged into the inn, and the officers of justice were sent for.
Sir Henry Delmé's anxious regards were now directed to his brother.
George had taken a seat near the corpse; and was sternly regarding it with fixed, steady, and unflinching gaze.
It is certainly very fearful to mark the dead--with pallid complexion--glazed eye--limbs fast stiffening--and gouts of blood--standing from out the face, like crimson excrescences on a diseased leaf.
But it is far more fearful than even this, to look on one, who is bound to us by the nearest and most cherished ties--with cheek yet glowing--expression's flush mantling still--and yet to doubt whether the intellect, which adorned that frame--the jewel in the casket--hath not for ever left its earthly tenement.
Chapter VII.
The Vetturini
"Far other scene is Thrasymene now."
"Fair Florence! at thy day's decline
When came the shade from Appennine,
And suddenly on blade and bower
The fire-flies shed the sparkling shower,
As if all heaven to earth had sent
Each star that gems the firmament;
'Twas sweet at that enchanting hour,
To bathe in fragrance of the Italian clime,
By Arno's stream."