第143章 CHAPTER XVI THE JOURNEY\"S END (4)

     
     
     
     　　If Mr. Bell had had a prophetic eye he might have seen the torch all butinverted, and the angel with the grave and composed face standing verynigh, beckoning to his friend. That night Mr. Hale laid his head downon the pillow on which it never more should stir with life. The servantwho entered his room in the morning, received no answer to his speech;drew near the bed, and saw the calm, beautiful face lying white and coldunder the ineffaceable seal of death. The attitude was exquisitely easy;there had been no pain--no struggle. The action of the heart must haveceased as he lay down.
     
     　　Mr. Bell was stunned by the shock; and only recovered when the timecame for being angry at every suggestion of his man\"s.
     
     　　\"A coroner\"s inquest? Pooh. You don\"t think I poisoned him! Dr. Forbessays it is just the natural end of a heart complaint. Poor old Hale! Youwore out that tender heart of yours before its time. Poor old friend! how
     
     　　he talked of his---- Wallis, pack up a carpet-bag for me in five minutes.
     
     　　Here have I been talking. Pack it up, I say. I must go to Milton by thenext train.\"
     
     　　The bag was packed, the cab ordered, the railway reached, in twentyminutes from the moment of this decision. The London train whizzedby, drew back some yards, and in Mr. Bell was hurried by the impatientguard. He threw himself back in his seat, to try, with closed eyes, tounderstand how one in life yesterday could be dead to-day; and shortlytears stole out between his grizzled eye-lashes, at the feeling of whichhe opened his keen eyes, and looked as severely cheerful as his setdetermination could make him. He was not going to blubber before aset of strangers. Not he!
     
     　　There was no set of strangers, only one sitting far from him on the sameside. By and bye Mr. Bell peered at him, to discover what manner ofman it was that might have been observing his emotion; and behind thegreat sheet of the outspread \"Times,\" he recognised Mr. Thornton.
     
     　　\"Why, Thornton! is that you?\" said he, removing hastily to a closerproximity. He shook Mr. Thornton vehemently by the hand, until thegripe ended in a sudden relaxation, for the hand was wanted to wipeaway tears. He had last seen Mr. Thornton in his friend Hale\"s company.
     
     　　\"I\"m going to Milton, bound on a melancholy errand. Going to break toHale\"s daughter the news of his sudden death!\"
     
     　　\"Death! Mr. Hale dead!\"