"What makes you turn so
white then at the very thought," said the doctor, interpreting the
visible consternation of our hero in his own way. "Nothing particular,"
answered Larry; "but a wakeness has come strong over me, gintlemin, and
if you'd have no objection, I'd like to go into the air for a bit." Leave
was of course granted, and Larry retired amid the laughter of the
guests--but as he retreated, he could not avoid casting a glance on the
awful picture--and again the Saint winked, with a most malicious smile.
It was impossible to endure the repeated infliction, and Larry rushed
down the stairs in an agony of fright and amazement. "May be," thought
he, "it might be my own eyes that wasn't quite steady--or the flame of
the candle. But no--he winked at me as plain as ever I winked at Judy
Donaghue of a May morning. What he manes by it I can't say--but there's
no use of thinking about it--no, nor of talking neither, for who' d
believe me if I tould them of it?"
The next evening Sir Theodore died, as has been mentioned; and in due
time thereafter was buried according to the custom of the family, by
torch-light, in the churchyard of Inistubber.
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