Roderick comes upon a sad procession of farmers, moaning and howling, the black horse led by the hand, and, on a door that some of them carry, little Patrick. He lies in his little boots and spurs, and his little coat of scarlet and gold. His face is quite white, and he smiles as he holds a hand out to Roderick and says painfully:
PATRICK
You won't whip me, will you, papa? Roderick bursts out into tears in reply.
Some doctors around the bed, Roderick and the Countess anxiously waiting upon them.
RODERICK (V.O.)
The doctors were called, but what does a doctor avail in a contest with the grim, invincible enemy? Such as came could only confirm our despair by their account of the poor child's case. His spine was injured, the lower half of him was dead when they laid him in bed at home. The rest did not last long, God help me! He remained yet for two days with us, and a sad comfort it was to think he was in no pain.
Roderick, Countess and Patrick.
PARTICK
(weakly)
Papa, I beg you and mama to pardon me for any acts of disobedience I have been guilty of towards you.
COUNTESS
(weeping)
Oh, my little angel, you have done nothing for which you need pardon.
PATRICK
Where is Brooksy? I would like to see him.
RODERICK
Your bother is in America fighting the rebels.
PATRICK
Is he all right, papa?
RODERICK
Yes, he's fine.
PATRICK
Brooksy was better than you, papa, he used not to swear so, and he taught me many good things while you were away.
Patrick takes a hand of his mother and of Roderick, in each of his little clammy ones.
PATRICK
I beg you not to quarrel so, but to love each other, so that we might meet again in heaven where Brooksy told me quarrelsome people never go.
His mother is much affected by these admonitions, and Roderick is too.
Patrick gives Roderick a ring from his finger, and a locket to his mother.
He says that these gifts are so that they will not forget him.
RODERICK (V.O.)
At last, after two days, he died. There he lay, the hope of my family, the pride of my manhood, the link which kept me and my Lady Cosgrove together.
Funeral.
RODERICK (V.O.)
I won't tell you with what splendor we buried him, but what avail are undertakers' feathers and heralds' trumpery.
Roderick enters the stable and, after a few seconds, we hear a pistol shot. He exits rapidly, the smoking pistol still in his hand.
The Countess: Praying. Waking up screaming. Fits of crying. Severely depressed.
RODERICK (V.O.)
Lady Cosgrove, always vaporish and nervous, after our blessed boy's catastrophe, became more agitated than ever, and plunged into devotion with so much fervor that you would have fancied her almost distracted at times.
Countess sees visions.
RODERICK (V.O.)
She imagined she saw visions. She said an angel from heaven told her that Patrick's death was a punishment to her for her neglect of her firstborn. Then she would declare that Brookside was dead.
Roderick and his accountant. Bills, bills, bills.
RODERICK (V.O.)
By now, my financial affairs were near to ruin. I could not get a guinea from any money-dealer in London. Our rents were in the hands of receivers by this time, and it was as much as I could do to get enough money from the rascals to pay my wine-merchants their bills. Our property was hampered, and often as I applied to my lawyers and agents for money, would come a reply demanding money of me for debts and pretended claims which the rapacious rascals said they had on me.
Mother arrives. Roderick greets her. Servants unload her bags.
RODERICK (V.O.)
My mother was the only person who, in my misfortune, remained faithful to me -- indeed, she has always spoken of me in my true light, as a martyr to the rascality of others, and a victim of my own generous and confiding temper.
Mother supervising kitchen staff.
RODERICK (V.O.)