...of a deathbed

I passed on with an accelerated step. On pausing at the chamber door I heard a very faint sound of many whispering voices. Eugene answered to my low, scarcely audible tap. The room was darkened. A dozen persons were gathered round the bed, and two others sat at a table on which stood four lit tapers; parchment, pens and ink lay before them. I was greeted in silence. Room was directly made for me to advance, and, on taking my station with the other medical men by the pillow, I had a full view of all who were present. The Countess Seymour sat in an armchair opposite; near her stood the Duke of Wellington, the Duke of Fidena and the Earl of Northangerland. Mr Montmorency, Mr Warner, General Thornton, Viscount Castlereagh and the Earl of Arundel formed the rest of the circle. Some grave and important matter had evidently summoned them to the young monarch's dying bed. Deliberation, anxiety, earnest expectation sat on every brow, revealed dimly by the candlelight, which at this hour seemed an unnatural substitute for the broad radiance of day.

[The Spell, Bronte, C.]