On the Brink of a Chasm by L.T. Meade — Read

Barbara tried to hurry forward, but Tarbot pushed her aside. He bent over the child and examined him carefully. The boy was absolutely unconscious and icy cold. He looked exactly like one dead. Was he dead? Barbara's heart beat so hard that she fancied it must be heard. She had never seen death before. Did it look like that? -was there always that absence of all movement, that queer gray look on the face? Already it seemed to Barbara that she scarcely knew little Piers.

Tarbot did not speak for a moment; then he turned to the nurse.