It was no vision or delirium; for Elise had come. She had knelt beside
his bed, and given him drink, and smoothed his pillow; and once, when no
one was in the tent, she stooped and kissed his hot dark lips, and
whispered words that were not for his ears to hear, nor to be heard by
any one of this world. The good Cure found her there. He had not heart to
bid her go home, and he made it clear to the villagers that he approved
of her great kindness. But he bade her mother also come, and she stayed
in a tent near by.
Lagroin and two hundred men held the encampment, and every night the
recruits arrived from the village, drilled as before, and waited for the
fell disease to pass. No one knew its exact nature, but now and again, in
long years, some one going to Dalgrothe Mountain was seized by it, and
died, or was left stricken with a great loss of the senses, or the limbs.
Yet once or twice, they said, men had come up from it no worse at all.
There was no known cure, and the Little Chemist could only watch the
swift progress of the fever, and use simple remedies to allay the
suffering. Parpon knew that the disease had seized upon Valmond the night
of the burial of Gabriel.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174