"Not yet, old man--in a day or so. Take this port, will you?"
I drank it with an effort; but it warmed me and gave me strength.
"You're to be shipped home in a few days--lucky beggar! Wouldn't mind getting ill myself if I could get leave."
I smiled in spite of myself.
"That's right. Feeling better, I see. We had another interesting patient also, but he cleared out a week or so ago from hospital. It was that fellow Mazarion. Remember him?"
"Mazarion!"
"Yes. Fell over the edge of a precipice and on to a ledge of rock. Got his fall broken somehow by the branches of a tree, and the wild raspberry bushes, or he'd have been in Kingdom Come--eh? What?"
"Thank God!" I felt a load lifted from my heart, the shadows had passed from my soul. I lay back, my eyes closed and a peace upon me.
And then I prayed for the first time in many a long day, and whilst I prayed I fell once more asleep. There came to me in that sleep a dream of Nelly--of Nelly robed in white with a glory around her, and she smiled and beckoned me to come.
Well, I was once more in England, and because she wished it I was allowed to see Nelly. She lay on her cushions very pale and white, but for the red spot on each cheek, and an unnatural brightness of the eyes. I knew it was a matter of time, and all that we could do was to wait and hope.
It came at last, one dreary evening, when the lamps were burning dimly in the streets through the ceaseless, insistent drizzle. I cannot linger over this or my heart would break. We stood by her, sad and silent, waiting for the end. It was not long in coming. She had been as it were asleep, when suddenly she awoke and her voice was strong with the strength of death. She called to me:
"Mr. Thring, you know that story about John. Is--is it true?"
Oh, the chattering ape who had killed her! Her mother's eyes met mine; but I could see nothing but Nelly--Nelly looking at me with a wistful entreaty. I could not; right or wrong, I could not.
"It is not true, dear. He will come back to you."
"Say that again."
"He will come back to you, Nelly."
"He must follow," and she closed her eyes with a sweet smile on her lips.
Then my dear's hand went out to clasp mine in thanks, and I held the chill fingers in my grasp.
"Mother--kiss me. John--you will come," and she was gone.
I had stolen out of the house, leaving them with their dead. As I closed the gate, and stepped on to the pavement a ragged figure came out of the mist and, standing beside the lamp-post, looked towards the house and the drawn blinds. The light fell on the wasted form and haggard features. I could not mistake; it was John Mazarion.
I went up to him and touched him on the shoulder. He started back and stared at me vacuously.
"She lies there dead," I said.
"Dead!"
"Ay, dead. She died with your name on her lips."
He looked at me stupidly. Then something like a sob burst from him, and with bowed head and shambling steps he turned, and crossing the road went from my life.
THE END.