Roy Norton

“ But it seemed as if what he had tried to say had broken the ice of that uncomfortable, tense pause, and I found my tongue.
"It's all right, Monsieur Périgord," I declared, with a nervous jubilation. "Everything is all right now. I didn't fail altogether. I didn't do much, but I did the best I could. You owe it all to a man in Martinique, and a very good man he is. ”

“ You are not a baker!" exclaimed Monsieur Périgord testily; and at this his footman was almost transported with delight, clucked his tongue dryly between his teeth, looked across at me, and shook his bald old head as if thoroughly satisfied with the results thus far attained by my unexpected visit.
"He is better, señor, already; better, I tell you. Out there in the patio you said you would come unannounced, and—doctors are no good—no good, I tell you, señor. ”

“ For two days he has rested on a couch in his library. He is sunken in some strange, brooding lethargy. He doesn't look up when I enter. Sometimes he doesn't hear me speak. Nothing interests him, not even his food. He does not read. Does nothing but think, think, think. You, señor, his friend, are a man of intelligence, and understand more of such matters than I, who am but a servant, a very old, ignorant man, who knows but little save a great love for one who has been not only master, but protector, for more than forty years. ”

“ I believe there is an old saying that joy never kills, I will go with you to him."
The old fellow, without a word, released his hold on my coat, led the way across the patio, through the hallway, and to a door, upon which he tapped. A tired voice bade us enter, and we stepped inside. Monsieur Périgord was no longer on his couch, but was settled into the depths of a huge leather chair with his hands folded in front of him, and his legs sprawled toward the fireplace, in which, despite the warmth of the night, a tiny blaze was burning. ”

“ They can cure ills of the body, but not of the mind, and por Dios, señor, it is a doctor for the mind that my master needs. He dies for want of something which no one can understand. It is as if he willed it, and was intent upon rest. Ah! I have kept you waiting outside, and it is not fitting that you, the padrone's friend, should enter through the servants' entrance. ”