Vimpany's capacity for feeling sympathy
began and ended with himself.
"This is a new scrape, even for Lord Harry," he remarked. "Let's get
him into the house."
The insensible man was carried into the nearest room on the ground
floor. Pale and trembling, Iris related what had happened, and asked if
there was no hope of saving him.
"Patience!" Mr. Vimpany answered; "I'll tell you directly."
He removed the bandages, and examined the wound. "There's been a deal
of blood lost," he said; "I'll try and pull him through. While I am
about it, Miss, go upstairs, if you please, and find your way to the
drawing-room." Iris hesitated. The doctor opened a neat mahogany box.
"The tools of my trade," he continued; "I'm going to sew up his
lordship's throat." Shuddering as she heard those words, Iris hurried
out of the room. Fanny followed her mistress up the stairs. In her own
very different way, the maid was as impenetrably composed as Mr.
Vimpany himself. "There was a second letter found in the gentleman's
pocket, Miss," she said. "Will you excuse my reminding you that you
have not read it yet."
Iris read the lines that follow:
"Forgive me, my dear, for the last time. My letter is to say that I
shall trouble you no more in this world--and, as for the other world,
who knows? I brought some money back with me, from the goldfields.
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