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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"Stories by English Authors: Africa (Selected by Scribners)"

Gradually he turned it toward the bodies, and for a moment
his gaze rested upon them. The next instant he staggered forward, looked
at the woman's face, panted for breath once or twice, and then, with
uplifted hands and a wild cry of "Lucy!" fell his length upon the floor.
When I stooped over him he was in convulsions, and dark matter was
oozing out of his mouth. The climax had come. I shouted for the
servants, and they carried him to his own room, and placed him on his
own bed.
How I got through that day I hardly know. Alone I buried Bransome
and his wife, and alone I returned from the hurried task to watch by
Jackson's bedside. None of the natives would stay near him. For two days
he lay unconscious. At the end of that time he seemed to have some idea
of the outside world, for his eyes met mine with intelligence in their
look, and on bending over him I heard him whisper, "Forgive me!" Then
he relapsed into unconsciousness again. Through the long hours his eyes
remained ever open and restless; he could not eat, nor did he sleep, and
I was afraid he would pass away through weakness without a sign,
being an old man.


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