It was with feelings of deep commiseration, that Carl looked on the two
brothers. He was the only person present, whose time was comparatively his
own; he spoke English, although imperfectly; and he owed a deep debt of
gratitude to an Englishman.
These circumstances seemed to point him out, as the proper person to
attend to the wants of the unfortunate traveller; and Carl Obers mentally
determined, that he would not leave Delmé, as long as he had it in his
power to befriend him, Sir Henry Delmé was completely unmanned by his
bereavement. He had been little prepared for such a severe loss; although
it is more than probable, that George's life had long been hanging on a
thread, which a single moment might snap.
The medical men had been singularly sanguine in his case, for it is rarely
that disease of the heart attacks one so young; but it now seemed evident,
that even had not anxiety of mind, and great constitutional irritability,
hastened the fatal result, that poor George could never have hoped to have
survived to a ripe old age.
There was much in his character at any time, to endear him to an only
brother. As it was, Delmé had seen George under such trying
circumstances--had entered so fully into his feelings and sufferings--that
this abrupt termination to his brother's sorrows, appeared to Sir Henry
Delmé, to bring with it a sable pall, that enveloped in darkness his own
future life and prospects.
The remains of poor George were placed in a small room, communicating with
one intended for Sir Henry.
Here Delmé shut himself up, brooding over his loss, and permitting no one
to intrude on his privacy.
Carl had offered his services, which were gratefully accepted, in making
the necessary arrangements for his brother's obsequies; and Sir Henry, in
the solitude of the dead man's chamber, could give free scope to a flood
of bitter recollections.
It may be, that those silent hours of agony, when the brother looked
fixedly on that moveless face, and implored the departed spirit to breathe
its dread and awful secret, were not without their improving tendency; for
haggard and wan as was the mourner's aspect, there was no outward sign of
quivering, even as he saw the rude coffin lowered, and as fell on his ear,
the creaking of cords, and that harsh jarring sound, to which there is
nothing parallel on earth, the heavy clods falling on the coffin lid.
The general arrangements had been simple; but Carl's directions had been
given in such a sympathising spirit, that they could not be otherwise than
acceptable.
About the church-yard itself, there is nothing very striking. It is
formed round a small knoll, on the summit of which stands a sarcophagus
literally buried in ivy.
Beneath this, is the vault of the baronial family, that for centuries
swayed the destinies of the little hamlet; but which family has been
extinct for some years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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