ABSTRACT
The next day Colonel Chesterville grew still more languid; and Ethelinde, excessively alarmed, waited impatiently the arrival of Montgomery, as she now, unexperienced as she was in illness, fancied that his end was rapidly approaching. A universal tremor seemed frequently to seize him; his voice was hollow and feeble; and he was so weak as to be liable, on the least emotion, to faint away. His servant, an old soldier who had followed him in all his fortunes, and who had frequently seen the approach of death in its various forms, thought it now necessary to apprize Ethelinde of the imminent danger of his beloved master; but this the honest veteran, when it came to the point, knew not how to set about. He adored his young lady. How could he shock her, situated as she now was, by intelligence so fatal. ‘I can never do it,’ said he, as he opened the door of the room where she sat; ‘I shall kill my dear young lady.’ He looked at her, however, a moment in silence, and his eyes filled with tears when he considered how friendless she would be left. Ethelinde, who was at that moment sitting at the window, which she now and then opened to watch for the appearance of Montgomery, turned suddenly towards him; and perceiving his agitation, said – ‘O! Philip! what is the matter? For God’s sake tell me! Is my father worse?’
