Even yet the reports I received were of a
doubtful nature; even Romaine had drawn of him no very amiable
portrait; and as I was ushered into the room, it was a critical eye
that I cast on my great-uncle. He lay propped on pillows in a
little cot no greater than a camp-bed, not visibly breathing. He
was about eighty years of age, and looked it; not that his face was
much lined, but all the blood and colour seemed to have faded from
his body, and even his eyes, which last he kept usually closed as
though the light distressed him. There was an unspeakable degree
of slyness in his expression, which kept me ill at ease; he seemed
to lie there with his arms folded, like a spider waiting for prey.
His speech was very deliberate and courteous, but scarce louder
than a sigh.
'I bid you welcome, Monsieur le Vicomte Anne,' said he, looking at
me hard with his pale eyes, but not moving on his pillows. 'I have
sent for you, and I thank you for the obliging expedition you have
shown. It is my misfortune that I cannot rise to receive you. I
trust you have been reasonably well entertained?'
'Monsieur mon oncle,' I said, bowing very low, 'I am come at the
summons of the head of my family.'
'It is well,' he said. 'Be seated. I should be glad to hear some
news--if that can be called news that is already twenty years old--
of how I have the pleasure to see you here.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226