he spoke—I know not whether to himself or to me—but the words were only, “’Tis well!”
“What is well? what do you mean?”
“No matter: you must bury me here this evening, and exactly where that bird is now perched. You know the rest of my injunctions.”
He then proceeded to give me several directions as to the manner in which his death might be best concealed. After these were finished, he exclaimed, “You perceive that bird?”
“Certainly.”
“And the serpent writhing in her beak?”
“Doubtless: there is nothing uncommon in it; it is her natural prey. But it is odd that she does not devour it.”
He smiled in a ghastly manner, and said, faintly, “It is not yet time!” As he spoke, the stork flew away. My eyes followed it for a moment, it could hardly be longer than ten might be counted. I felt Darvell’s weight, as it were, increase upon my shoulder, and, turning to look upon his face, perceived that he was dead!
