death. Now, mother, what is there in that chamber, and why has it been
so long shut up? Either I know that, or I go to sea."

At the commencement of this address of Philip, his mother appeared
to be transfixed, and motionless as a statue; gradually her lips
separated, and her eyes glared; she seemed to have lost the power of
reply; she put her hand to her right side, as if to compress it, then
both her hands, as if to relieve herself from excruciating torture: at
last she sank, with her head forward, and the blood poured out of her
mouth.

Philip sprang from the table to her assistance, and prevented her from
falling on the floor. He laid her on the couch, watching with alarm
the continued effusion.

"Oh! mother--mother, what is this?" cried he, at last, in great
distress.

For some time his mother could make him no reply; she turned further
on her side, that she might not be suffocated by the discharge from
the ruptured vessel, and the snow-white planks of the floor were soon
crimsoned with her blood.

"Speak, dearest mother, if you can," repeated Philip, in agony; "what
shall I do? what shall I give you? God Almighty! what is this?"

"Death, my child, death!" at length replied the poor woman, sinking
into a state of unconsciousness.

Philip, now much alarmed, flew out of the cottage, and called the