“Yes! the Markiss is very ill! You must take a cab and go there as quickly as you can, and beg the Baron to come to me at once! Say that your master is in terrible pain--tell him of the moans you heard--and that I am very unhappy about it, and must have a doctor at once. Mind you say how dreadfully anxious I am, Charlotte, and that I have done everything I can, but it is of no good!” “’Ave you been into ’is room, Mum?” demanded Charlotte, with surprise. “Yes! yes! but don’t stand chattering there! Go as quick as ever you can, and don’t forget one word of what I have told you.” When the child was gone, Hannah sat down in the parlour to await the issue of events. She could not return to the bedroom nor draw the blanket off those staring eyes. There Von Steinberg found her, an hour later, when he returned with the little maid. “Why! what is this?” he exclaimed, as he took her hand; “is my poor friend ill? Where is he? Let me see him at once!” “There!” replied Hannah, pointing upwards with her finger; “He looks dreadful! I can’t stand it! Whatever has happened, that he should be like this?” “And you have left him alone, when he is so ill?” said the Baron, reproachfully, “O! Hannah! I did not think you would do that!” “He has locked himself into his room all day--Charlotte will tell you so--and wouldn’t come down to supper, or take anything--and just now I forced open the door, and he swore at me--so I was frightened, and sent for you!” “You did right!” said Von Steinberg, as he ran up the stairs to Ricardo’s room. But the first glance told him that his services would be of no avail. The Professor was dead as a doornail. His head was thrown back--his eyes were wide open and starting from their sockets--his body had half fallen from the bed. Karl von Steinberg felt his heart--pressed his eyeballs--laid his hand on his pulse--and uttered a deep sigh. “Gone! my poor Ricardo!” he exclaimed, “and I fear, by your own hand!” He caught sight of the tumbler, which had contained the whiskey and water, and raising it to his nose, shook his head mournfully. “As I thought!” he mused. “O! I should not have left him alone, after what he said to me this morning! It is half my fault that this has happened. I shall never forgive myself!” He lifted the poor wasted carcase on to the bed, closed the eyelids, laid the arms by his side, and softly closing the door, went downstairs again. “My poor girl!” he exclaimed, as he rejoined Hannah, “you must prepare yourself for a great shock. Our good friend has left us, Hannah! He is dead!” “Quite dead,” repeated, Hannah; “are you sure?”