The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 02Smollett, T. (Tobias)
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The Adventures of Ferdinand Count Fathom — Volume 02
Smollett, T. (Tobias)
Adventure stories; Gothic fiction
Three days did nature struggle with surprising efforts, and then the
constitution seemed to sink under the victorious fever; yet, as his
strength diminished, his delirium abated, and on the fifth morning he
looked round, and recognised his weeping friends. Though now exhausted
to the lowest ebb of life, he retained the perfect use of speech, and his
reason being quite unclouded, spoke to each with equal kindness and
composure; he congratulated himself upon the sight of shore after the
horrors of such a tempest; called upon the Countess and his sister, who
were not permitted to see him at such a conjuncture; and being apprised
by the Major of his reason for excluding them from his presence, he
applauded his concern, bequeathed them to his future care, and took leave
of that gentleman with a cordial embrace. Then he desired to be left in
private with a certain clergyman, who regulated the concerns of his soul,
and he being dismissed, turned his face from the light, in expectation of
his final discharge. In a few minutes all was still and dreary, he was
no longer heard to breathe, no more the stream of life was perceived to
circulate, he was supposed to be absolved from all his cares, and an
universal groan from the bystanders announced the decease of the gallant,
generous, and tender-hearted Renaldo.
"Come hither, ye whom the pride of youth and health, of birth and
affluence inflames, who tread the flowery maze of pleasure, trusting to
the fruition of ever-circling joys; ye who glory in your accomplishments,
who indulge the views of ambition, and lay schemes for future happiness
and grandeur, contemplate here the vanity of life! behold how low this
excellent young man is laid! mowed down even in the blossom of his youth,
when fortune seemed to open all her treasures to his worth!"
Such were the reflections of the generous Farrel, who, while he performed
the last office of friendship, in closing the eyes of the much-lamented
Melvil, perceived a warmth on the skin, which the hand of death seldom
leaves unextinguished. This uncommon sensation he reported to the
physician, who, though he could feel no pulsation of the heart or
arteries, conjectured that life still lingered in some of its interior
haunts, and immediately ordered such applications to the extremities and
surface of the body, as might help to concentrate and reinforce the
natural heat.
By these prescriptions, which for some time produced no sensible effect,
the embers were, in all probability, kept glowing, and the vital power
revived, for, after a considerable pause, respiration was gradually
renewed at long intervals, a languid motion was perceived at the heart,
a few feeble and irregular pulsations were felt at the wrist, the
clay-coloured livery of death began to vanish from his face, the
circulation acquired new force, and he opened his eyes with a sigh,
which proclaimed his return from the shades of death.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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