Our Dear Brother

           Atouchonthelawyer’swrinkledhandashestandsinthedarkroom,irresolute,makeshimstartandsay,"What’sthat?""It’sme,"returnstheoldmanofthehouse,whosebreathisinhisear."Can’tyouwakehim?""No.""Whathaveyoudonewithyourcandle?""It’sgoneout.Hereitis."Krooktakesit,goestothefire,stoopsovertheredembers,andtriestogetalight.Thedyingasheshavenolighttospare,andhisendeavoursarevain.Muttering,afteranineffectualcalltohislodger,thathewillgodownstairsandbringalightedcandlefromtheshop,theoldmandeparts.Mr.Tulkinghorn,forsomenewreasonthathehas,doesnotawaithisreturnintheroom,butonthestairsoutside.Thewelcomelightsoonshinesuponthewall,asKrookcomesslowlyupwithhisgreen-eyedcatfollowingathisheels."Doesthemangenerallysleeplikethis?"inquiredthelawyerinalowvoice."Hi!Idon’tknow,"saysKrook,shakinghisheadandliftinghiseyebrows."Iknownexttonothingofhishabitsexceptthathekeepshimselfveryclose."Thuswhispering,theybothgointogether.Asthelightgoesin,thegreateyesintheshutters,darkening,seemtoclose.Notsotheeyesuponthebed."Godsaveus!"exclaimsMr.Tulkinghorn."Heisdead!"Krookdropstheheavyhandhehastakenupsosuddenlythatthearmswingsoverthebedside.Theylookatoneanotherforamoment."Sendforsomedoctor!CallforMissFliteupthestairs,sir.Here’spoisonbythebed!CalloutforFlite,willyou?"saysKrook,withhisleanhandsspreadoutabovethebodylikeavampire’swings.Mr.