Now, less than ever, had he an ear for
the carolling of birds, or an eye for the glory of summer sunlight, or
the flickering shadows of summer leaves faintly stirred by the soft
summer wind.
He re-entered his house with a half-dazed sense of the stir and life that
had been about him in the high road. It was a relief to him to escape
this life and brightness, and to take shelter in the gloom of his study,
where the shutters were closed, and only a faint glimmer of day crept
through a chink in the shrunken woodwork.
For the first time since the beginning of this dreary period of idleness
and suspense he felt himself thoroughly beaten, and instead of going up
to his dressing-room for his careful morning toilet, as it was his habit
to do at this hour, he flung himself, dressed as he was, upon the low
iron bedstead, and fell into a heavy slumber.
Yes, there they were--the familiar tortures of his slumbers, the
shadows of busy, eager faces; and upon all one universal expression of
mingled anger and surprise. The sound of a wooden hammer striking three
solemn strokes; the faint tones of Tom Halliday's voice, thanking him for
his friendly care; the dying look in Tom Halliday's face, turned to him
with such depth of trust and affection. And then across the shadowy
realm of dreams there swept the slow solemn progress of a funeral
_cortege_--plumed hearses, blacker than blackest night; innumerable
horses, with funereal trappings and plumed headgear waving in an icy
wind; long trains of shrouded figures stretching on into infinite space,
in spectral procession that knew neither beginning nor end.
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