But then he knew that he was in his bed and that soon this familiar room would be his no more.
“Open the curtains,” he said, “that I may once more see the day.”
So they drew them back, and he stared at the window. He listened to the sounds of his city’s waking to life, and he slipped into unconsciousness again.
He was breathing so painfully that his gasps mingled oddly with the ticking of the clocks. His dogs began to whimper. Then, just before noon, he fell back on his pillows and ceased to live.
Bruce, who had loved him dearly, said as the tears rolled down his cheeks: “He is gone … my good and gracious master, the best that ever reigned over us. He has died in peace and glory, and may the Lord God have mercy on his soul.”
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Document ID: d8d0fbad-1b0f-4867-88bf-069c5064fdfe
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Document creation date: 30.5.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.22, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Jean Plaidy
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Here Lies Our Sovereign Lord Page 33