The Captain gazed at the mortal remains of Mr West, wrinkled and flaccid as a deflated balloon. How tranquil he looked.
“Blödmann,” he cursed quietly, sliding the lids shut over eyes already losing their transparency, like those of a dead fish.
He felt a sudden draught; the curtains ruffled. With some haste, he left the chamber.
“Unhappy wanderer, by all that is holy, I command you leave this house – if you wouldn’t mind awfully.”
His patience exhausted, Eustace cried, “Percy has already gone!”
Triumph quickly overcame Fludd’s annoyance at being interrupted. “To a better place, we must hope.”
Nancy appeared, followed shortly by the Captain.
“Mr West,” she exclaimed, “is dead!”
“What?” gasped the Reverend, shivering as a chill stole through the room, before snapping, “What tomfoolery is this, child? I can see for myself that Mr West is quite well.”
A scream issued from Nancy, and a groan from the Captain as he fainted in the doorway – for there quite plainly, upon the chaise longue, sat Mr West.