and drink it to my eternal rest!"

Mr. Rawson stiffened himself up and received the gift with fingers
momentarily irresponsive. But Mr. Rawson had the nerves of a gentleman.
I measured the spasm with which his poor dispossessed hand closed upon
the crisp paper, I observed his empurpled nostril convulsive under the
other solicitation. He crushed the crackling note in his palm with a
passionate pressure and jerked a spasmodic bow. "I shall not do you the
wrong, sir, of anything but the best!" The next moment the door swung
behind him.

Searle sank again into his apathy, and on reaching the hotel I helped
him to get to bed. For the rest of the day he lay without motion or
sound and beyond reach of any appeal. The doctor, whom I had constantly
in attendance, was sure his end was near. He expressed great surprise
that he should have lasted so long; he must have been living for a
month on the very dregs of his strength. Toward evening, as I sat by his
bedside in the deepening dusk, he roused himself with a purpose I had
vaguely felt gathering beneath his stupor. "My cousin, my cousin," he
said confusedly. "Is she here?" It was the first time he had spoken of
Miss Searle since our retreat from her brother's house, and he continued
to ramble. "I was to have married her. What a dream! That day was like
a string of verses--rhymed hours. But the last verse is bad measure.
What's the rhyme to 'love'? ABOVE! Was she a simple woman, a kind sweet
woman? Or have I only dreamed it? She had the healing gift; her touch
would have cured my madness. I want you to do something. Write three
lines, three words: 'Good-bye; remember me; be happy.'" And then after
a long pause: "It's strange a person in my state should have a wish. Why
should one eat one's breakfast the day one's hanged? What a creature
is man! What a farce is life! Here I lie, worn down to a mere throbbing
fever-point; I breathe and nothing more, and yet I DESIRE! My desire
lives. If I could see her! Help me out with it and let me die."

Half an hour later, at a venture, I dispatched by post a note to Miss
Searle: "Your cousin is rapidly sinking. He asks to see you." I was
conscious of a certain want of consideration in this act, since it would
bring her great trouble and yet no power to face the trouble; but out
of her distress I fondly hoped a sufficient force might be born. On the
following day my friend's exhaustion had become so great that I began
to fear his intelligence