As the storm clouds, touched with beauty by the rays of the setting sun,
were settling below the eastern ranges, Dr. Bradley again entered the
sick-room. The room was flooded with golden light, and the physician was
quick to note the changes which the few hours had wrought in the sick
man. The fever had gone and, his strength spent, his splendid energies
exhausted, life's forces were ebbing moment by moment.
"He is sinking fast," said Mrs. Dean.
Even as she spoke a smile stole over the pallid features; then, as they
watched eagerly for some token of returning consciousness, the nervous
system, so long strained to its utmost tension, suddenly relaxed and
utter collapse followed.
For hours Darrell lay as one dead, an occasional fluttering about the
heart being the only sign of life. But late in the forenoon of the
following day the watchers by the bedside, noting each feeble pulsation,
thinking it might be the last, felt an almost imperceptible quickening
of the life current. Gradually the fluttering pulse grew calm and
steady, the faint respirations grew deeper and more regular, until at
length, with a long, tremulous sigh, Darrell sank into slumber sweet and
restful as a child's, and the watchers knew that the crisis had passed.