The good Cure found her there. He had not heart
to bid her go home, and he made it clear to the villagers that he
approved of her great kindness. But he bade her mother also come,
and she stayed in a tent near by.
Lagroin and two hundred men held the encampment, and every night the
recruits arrived from the village, drilled as before, and waited for the
fell disease to pass. No one knew its exact nature, but now and again,
in long years, some one going to Dalgrothe Mountain was seized by it, and
died, or was left stricken with a great loss of the senses, or the limbs.
Yet once or twice, they said, men had come up from it no worse at all.
There was no known cure, and the Little Chemist could only watch the
swift progress of the fever, and use simple remedies to allay the
suffering. Parpon knew that the disease had seized upon Valmond the
night of the burial of Gabriel. He remembered now the sickly, pungent
air that floated past, and how Valmond, weak from the loss of blood in
the fight at the smithy, shuddered, and drew his cloak about him.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25