Don't you remember when Sibylla wrote, she said
he was ill with fever? He never got well. He never got well! I take it
that it must have been a sort of intermittent fever--pretty well one
day, down ill the next--for he had started for the place where John
died--I forget its name, but you'll find it written there. Only a few
hours after quitting Melbourne, he grew worse and died."
"Was he alone?" asked Lionel.
"Captain Cannonby was with him. They were going together up to--I
forget, I say, the name of the place--where John died, you know. It was
nine or ten days' distance from Melbourne, and they had travelled but a
day of it. And I suppose," added Mrs. Verner, with tears in her eyes,
"that he'd be put into the ground like a dog!"
Lionel, on this score, could give no consolation. He knew not whether
the fact might be so, or not. Jan hoisted himself on to the top of a
high bureau, and sat in comfort.
"He'd be buried like a dog," repeated Mrs. Verner. "What do they know
about parsons and consecrated ground out there? Cannonby buried him, he
says, and then he went back to Melbourne to carry the tidings to
Sibylla.
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