piercing quality of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness

or the order of her words. They were always ‘My husband, my

father, and my brother! One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve! Hush!’ “This lasted twenty-six

hours from the time when I first saw her. I had come and gone

twice and was again sitting by her, when she began to falter. I did

what little could be done to assist that opportunity, and by-and-by

she sank into a lethargy, and lay like the dead.

“It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and

fearful storm. I released her arms, and called the woman to assist

me to compose her figure and the dress she had torn. It was then

that I knew her condition to be that of one in whom the first

expectations of being a mother have arisen; and it was then that I

lost the little hope I had had of her.

“‘Is she dead?’ asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as

the elder brother, coming booted into the room from his horse.

“‘Not dead,’ said I; ‘but like to die.’

“‘What strength there is in these common bodies!’ he said,

looking down at her with some curiosity.

“‘There is prodigious strength,’ I answered him. ‘in sorrow and

despair.’

“He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He

moved a chair with his fo