Then Death strikes him, and he falls." He made this remark in a most
impressive manner.
"Nothing remains," he said, "but to certify the cause of death and to
satisfy the proper forms and authorities. I charge myself with this
duty. The unfortunate young man belonged to a highly distinguished
family. I will communicate with his friends and forward his papers. One
last office I can do for him. For the sake of his family, nurse, I will
take a last photograph of him as he lies upon his death-bed." Lord
Harry stood in the doorway, listening with an aching and a fearful
heart. He dared not enter the chamber. It was the Chamber of Death.
What was his own part in calling the Destroying Angel who is at the
beck and summons of every man--even the meanest? Call him and he comes.
Order him to strike--and he obeys. But under penalties.
The doctor's prophecy, then, had come true. But in what way and by what
agency? The man was dead. What was his own share in the man's death? He
knew when the Dane was brought into the house that he was brought there
to die. As the man did not die, but began to recover fast, he had seen
in the doctor's face that the man would have to die. He had heard the
doctor prophesy out of his medical knowledge that the man would surely
die; and then, after the nurse had been sent away because her patient
required her services no longer, he had seen the doctor give the
medicine which burned the patient's throat.
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