"My only love. She's gone and I cannot breathe!" Hartford gurgled with irrationality. Mercedes' death finally began to work on his head. "My wife to be, will not be, she isn't -- is she? There is nothing. I am nothing. Is all nothing?" Dearborne looked at Brook with frightful worry and she took his arm. "He's delirious!" she said. Brook saw Miel and Cassta enter the room earlier and now motioned to them to approach. Without hesitation, they drew near. "My friends, take Hartford down to the parlour and let him rest!" Brook requested and his two most loyal subjects obeyed him. They took Hartford, one under each arm, and carried him down to the parlour, Boy leading the way. It was obvious that Hartford wasn't aware of what was happening to him. His face was pallid and his eyes were glazed-over. He was no longer existing on a mutual level with anyone in this world. Within his grief-afflicted mind and mutilated soul, he searched for that which he had lost. Brook and Dearborne were alone for a moment, so to speak, since they were not aware of Lloyd's presence, while he quietly sat in the window. "It is so quiet, Brook. The guests have gone!" "Yes." confirmed Brook. "The flavour of this celebration had become very bitter!" How true, thought Lloyd as he looked at Halls in the distance, knowing from experience that the cause of this night's misfortune, originated there. "I'm sorry for tonight, my love!" said Brook. Dearborne's moistt eyes calmed his heaving spirit. She did not blame him for this evening's tragedy and she knew that his apology was really intended as pity for the loss of such a precious and innocent soul as Mercedes was. With this, Brook turned and went out of the room. Lloyd's heart ached with the burden of his witness. He saw Mercedes, inside his mind, thrusting the dagger into her heart, over and over again, and the visions of this mingled with his memory of witnessing his own betrothed Charnan, at her death. This evening devastated him. Mercedes reminded him so much of his beloved Charnan. She had the same golden hair and smooth, fair skin. Her beauty was only surpassed by her innocense. Lloyd's mind travelled while comparing the two women and his two most painful experiences. Through a small tare in the curtain, Lloyd saw Dearborne lift her head from a prayer that she had made for the body and spirit of the departed Mercedes. She was starting to turn and leave when she sat heavily into a chair by the bed and started to cry. Lloyd was ready to reveal himself to her, to talk and console her, but he couldn't show to her his own weakness. He cried, too. Brook was down in the parlour with Miel, Cassta and Hartford. The three men stood apart from Hartford. He was put on the couch, reclined and withdrawn, and he appeared to be as inanimate as the furniture.