to know it.'

'"Later in the day I warned my lord, as gently as I could,
that his time had come. I am informed that there are serious reasons
for my stating what passed between us on this occasion, in detail,
and without any reserve. I comply with the request.

'"Lord Montbarry received the intelligence of his approaching death
with becoming composure, but with a certain doubt. He signed to me
to put my ear to his mouth. He whispered faintly, 'Are you sure?'
It was no time to deceive him; I said, 'Positively sure.'
He waited a little, gasping for breath, and then he whispered again,
'Feel under my pillow.' I found under his pillow a letter,
sealed and stamped, ready for the post. His next words were just
audible and no more--'Post it yourself.' I answered, of course,
that I would do so--and I did post the letter with my own hand.
I looked at the address. It was directed to a lady in London.
The street I cannot remember. The name I can perfectly recall:
it was an Italian name--'Mrs. Ferrari.'

'"That night my lord nearly died of asphyxia. I got him through it
for the time; and his eyes showed that he understood me when I told him,
the next morning, that I had posted the letter. This was his last
effort of consciousness. When I saw him again he was sunk in apathy.
He lingered in a state of insensibility, supported by stimulants,
until the 25th, and died (unconscious to the last) on the evening of
that day.

'"As to the cause of his death, it seems (if I may be excused for
saying so) simply absurd to ask the question. Bronchitis, terminating