I assured him that Lucy was still asleep, but told him as gently as I could that both Van Helsing and I feared that the end was near.

He covered his face with his hands, and slid down on his knees by the sofa, where he remained, perhaps a minute, with his head buried, praying, whilst his shoulders shook with grief.

I took him by the hand and raised him up.
"Come," I said, "my dear old fellow, summon all your fortitude.

It will be best and easiest for her." When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making everything look as pleasing as possible.

He had even brushed Lucy's hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples.