The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1902-04-11
HIS LAST WILL
.. BY ISABELLE KAISER.
BY ISABELLE KAISER. l..
THE sick man shivered and drew
/ the shawl more closely about his

THE sick man shivered and drew
l the shawl more closely about his
shoulders.
at is time to go in monsieur" said
the nurse, with grave insistence.
He bowed politely but did not turn
his eyes from the beautiful sun which
was dying slowly, with tragic gen
tleneSs, like himself. Over the sea
the orb was sinking toward the shad
ows, throwing its rays, scattering his
tapers, purpling the waves, the sky,
the mountains, with magnifcence
which made his daily death tri-
umph, q feast of life for the world.
''How simple and grand is such a
DEATH" unused Douglas Lindsay.
But the solicitous voice beside him
said:
Monsieur, be reasonable"
1t was the hour SO dangerous to
the invalids who spend the winter in
these mild climates: the treacherous
hour when beauty throws her anne
thysts on the waves and death
spreads his nets on the shore.
The sick man rose with difficulty,
disdaining the danger; he knew that
he should cough tonight, but was
he sure of seeing the sun tomorrow?
The sky and the Mediterranean
were hung with mauve silk, as if for
a sumptuous ceremony; the yards
and rigging of the yachts at anchor
were outlined against it like beau
tiful dream; the air was perfumed
with flowers and the Esterel noun
tains were bathed in crimson glory
Douglas Lindsay took the nurses
arm and moved with slow steps to-
ward the house whose garden opened
on the Boulevard de la Croisette. AS
they passed villa with Greek per-
istyle he asked:
''Was it here that the young girl
died suddenly"
eyes, monsieur; they say that her
father and lover were inconsolable."
Happy little one!-to die thus,
loved regretted"
The nurse was discreetly silent.
This reflection betrayed so bitter a
regret. No one would weep for him,
the poor rich man!
His tall form stopped as he walked,
but there was in the attitude of this
yanquished man, and in the noble
ease of his manner, that undeniable
air of nobility which distinguishes
aristocratic Englishmen.
On the threshold. of the house he
turned toward the sea. The splendor
was fading, the water had greenish
tone, the purple palaces of clouds had
crumbled to ashes. The rigid Els
terel looked like vast funeral pail.
Light was dead. Night was coming.
''The sun dies every evening and
all the earth mourns for him. said
the invalid.
And he entered the luxurious vesti-
bule, where the servants silently
opened for him the shadowy doors.
When DR.. Dielen left Lord Lind
says room, some hours later, he
told the nurse that the sick man
had at most but few days to live.
''Will he suffer-" she asked.
physically very little; mentally
much," said the doctor, who was re-
puted a fine psychologist and mind
reader. "For some time he has been
afflicted with a sentimental distress
which is not rare among consump-
tives. 1t is a genuine anguish at the
thought of dying alone, without af
lection, without leaving one regret
behind him. Miss Mary, do your best
to brighten his last hours; it is the
only kindness left for us to show
him.
''What can I do for him?''
''You are woman, and beside a
sick bed all women are motherly and
find words to soothe pain. 1 can
teach you nothing"
Musing, she returned to the in
valid's room.
1t was furnished with every COM
fort, and showed those delicate
touches which a woman's hand gives.
Everywhere were inodorous flow
cts, white heather and anemones of
the heath. 1t would have been almost
homelike but for the spectre of ill
ness lingering there and waiting for
its prey.
She leaned over the bed where the
dying man lay with closed eyes. Yes,
the marks of death were in his face.