And at the same moment he turned a quick glance towards the sick-room, in which a slight sound was heard.

The surgeon had entered softly; he approached the bed, watched his sleeping patient attentively for some little time, then he bent over him, gently removed the covering of the wound, and examined it carefully.

After a few minutes he joined the ladies in the other room.

Madame von Wendenstein looked at him anxiously. Helena followed him, and remained standing at the door.

"Everything is progressing excellently," said the surgeon; "and though I cannot say all danger is over, I can a.s.sure you that every day my hopes of a complete recovery increase."

Madame von Wendenstein thanked him for this good news with emotion, and Helena's eyes smiled through tears.

"For some time to come absolute quiet will be needful. Any shock to the much shaken nervous system might bring on fever of an inflammatory or typhoid character, and in the present state of weakness this would be fatal. The deep wound is still filled with blood; this can only be slowly absorbed and dispersed. Any sudden flow of blood from a violent effort might be fatal; therefore, I repeat it, absolute quiet is the first essential in the recovery of our patient, and nature will a.s.sist his youthful strength to repair the injury he has received. Nothing can be done beyond a slight compress to the wound, a little cooling medicine, and the maintenance of the strength by light nourishment. But now, ladies, I must exercise my medical authority upon you," he continued. "It is a long time since you have been in the open air, and to-day it is deliciously cool. You must go out!"

Madame von Wendenstein hesitated.

"It is needful for our patient's sake," said the surgeon, "that you should keep up your strength. What would become of him if you were to be ill? You must take a real walk. Fritz can take care of the patient, who wants nothing but sleep."

"Oh, I will stay here," cried Helena; but suddenly recollecting herself, she was silent, and looked down with a blush.

"I beg, my dear lady," said the candidate, "that you will follow our friend's prescription without any anxiety. I will remain with Herr von Wendenstein. I have learned what to do beside a sick bed. Go, for you all need this refreshment."

"Quick, then," said the doctor. "I will take you to a beautiful shady walk, and you will see what wonderful good you feel from that medicine which nature prescribes for all--fresh air."

Madame von Wendenstein put on her bonnet and mantle, and the young ladies followed her example. Helena looked anxiously at the wounded officer, and then hesitatingly followed the other ladies, who with the surgeon had already left the room.

The candidate, with downcast eyes and a gentle smile, accompanied her to the door. He then turned back, entered the sick-room, and seated himself in the armchair near the bed.

From his pale face the gentle smile and the expression of spiritual peace and priestly dignity vanished. His half-closed, downcast eyes opened widely, and were fixed upon the sleeper with a look of hatred, and his thin lips were pressed firmly together.

There was a wonderful contrast between the wounded officer--who lay stretched on his couch in light slumber, his eyes closed, the reflection of sweet and pure dreams shining in his face, whilst on his brow appeared a glimpse of heaven, a spark of the Divine breath--and the man who sat near him in the garments of a priest, a horrible expression of low, earthly pa.s.sion and demoniacal hatred upon his countenance.

The wounded man tossed his head a little to and fro, as if he felt disturbed by the look the candidate fixed upon him, then with a deep sigh he opened his eyes and turned them joyfully towards the place where he hoped to see the beloved form that had filled his dreams. With large, surprised, almost frightened eyes, he saw the clergyman beside him. The candidate compelled his countenance suddenly to resume its usual calm expression, lowering his eyes to conceal their hatred, for he knew that even his strong powers of will could not at once banish this expression.

"Do you want anything, Herr von Wendenstein?" asked the candidate, in a low, gentle voice. "The ladies have gone out, and they have left me here to take care of you."

Lieutenant von Wendenstein raised his finger a little and pointed to a small table near the bed, on which stood a carafe of fresh water and a small vial filled with a red fluid.

The candidate poured a few drops of the medicine into a gla.s.s of water, and held it to the lieutenant's lips, who raised his head with some little difficulty and drank it.

The eyes of the wounded man said as plainly as possible, "I thank you."

The candidate put down the gla.s.s, folded his hands together, and said, as he cast down his eyes,--

"Did you think, Herr von Wendenstein, when your body craved earthly refreshment that your soul needed a spiritual medicine to strengthen and refresh it in the valley of the shadow of death, that if Providence sees fit to call it hence, it may be prepared to stand before the Judge, and to give an account of the deeds done in the flesh?"

The wounded man's eyes, which after the cooling drink, were closing again in slumbrous weariness, opened widely, and gazed upon the candidate with astonishment and fear. He was accustomed to be spoken to by looks, by signs, by single words whispered low, and his wearied nerves shuddered at this unusual mode of speech. Then, too, the loving care that had watched him in sickness and encouraged with fostering hand the seed of convalescence, had surrounded him with pictures of hope, with a.s.surances of a new life blooming in the future, so that the sharp and sudden mention of death, with his threatening hand still stretched over him, affected him as if on a sunny, flower-scented day he had suddenly felt the ice-cold breath of a newly-opened vault. A slight shudder ran through his frame, and he feebly shook his head, as if to free himself from the gloomy picture so suddenly called up.

"Have you thought," continued the candidate, suddenly raising his voice and speaking sharply and impressively, "how you will pa.s.s through those black, dreadful hours, those hours now perhaps very near you, when your soul, with convulsive shudders, will tear itself free from the cold body--when your heart must leave every earthly joy, every earthly hope, and lay them in the dark depths of the grave, where the body, born of dust, must return to the dust of which it is formed?"

The eyes of the wounded man grew larger, a feverish glow burned on his cheeks, and there was an imploring expression in the look he turned upon the candidate.

He fixed his eyes upon the young officer with the electric fascinating gaze with which the rattlesnake turns its prey to stone.

"Have you thought," continued the candidate, and his sharp voice seemed to cut deep down into the sick man's soul, as his looks glared into his horror-stricken eyes, "have you thought, that then, at the trumpet blast of eternity, you must stand before the throne of a righteous and severe Judge and give an account of your life? Your last act was murder; the shedding of a brother's blood in a struggle justified by earthly laws; but must it not appear a deadly sin in the eyes of Eternal Justice?"

The features of the wounded man quivered, the feverish flush increased, and his eyelids sank and rose with a quick involuntary movement.

"Heaven has shown you great mercy," said the candidate, "you have been granted time for preparation here on a bed of sickness, for eternity, whilst many were called away in the midst of mortal sin. Have you worthily used the time so graciously granted you? Have you turned your thoughts and desires away from all worldly things, and fixed them on things eternal? Have you banished from your heart every earthly wish, every earthly hope? Does it not still cling to earth? Judge yourself, and let not the short time of grace be in vain!"

The candidate bent down lower and lower, and fixed his glaring eyes on those of the lieutenant, whose violent nervous agitation greatly increased. His pale hands trembled even to the tips of the fingers, he raised them with a repelling movement, and pointed to the table, whilst with difficulty in a feeble voice, he gasped "Water!"

The candidate brought the green fire of his sparkling eyes still closer to the sick man's face, he stretched his right hand over his head whilst with the fingers of the left he pointed to his heart, and he said in a low voice:

"Think of the Water of Life, try to become worthy of the Well-spring of Grace that alone can cool the torturing flames of eternal d.a.m.nation.

They are ready for you, if you do not use this short time of grace, and rend every earthly thought from your heart! The time that remains to you is brief, and if your soul still clings to the past, it will fall into the abyss already yawning before you!"

A slight red foam appeared on the wounded man's lips, his eyes opened widely, and stared unconsciously around. His out-stretched fingers were stiff, and his whole frame terribly convulsed.

The clergyman bent down closer over him, and in a harsh rough whisper muttered in his ear:

"The pit opens, the sulphurous flames ascend, you hear the lamentations of endless torment, the supplications of the d.a.m.ned that can no longer reach the Ear of Mercy; the light of heaven goes out, and the outcast soul sinks into the dreadful horror, which no living spirit can conceive, no living heart can imagine,--sinks, deeper, deeper,--ever deeper."

A sudden shudder pa.s.sed through the wounded man's frame, a rattling breath forced itself from his labouring breast, his lips opened and a stream of thick black blood flowed from his mouth. His face grew deadly pale.

The candidate was silent, he rose slowly, his eyes firmly fixed on the face trembling in its death struggle; he drew back his hands and stood with a cruel smile, calm and motionless.

The door of the next room was softly opened and a careful footstep was heard.

The candidate started. With a great effort he compelled his features to resume their usual expression of pious dignity; he folded his hands on his breast, and turned his head towards the door.

Fritz Deyke appeared and cautiously popped in his head.

"Ah! you are here, sir?" he said in a whisper, "I was busy in the stable, but I heard the ladies had gone out, so I thought I would come and look at my lieutenant. Lord G.o.d in heaven!" he cried, suddenly rushing to the bed, "what is this? my lieutenant is dying!"

He seized the stiff hand of the sick man, and bent over the apparently lifeless body.

"I fear the worst," said the candidate calmly, in a mild voice, full of melancholy sympathy. "A violent cramp seized the poor young man, and the breaking of a blood-vessel seems to have ended our hopes. It was quick and sudden, whilst I was endeavouring to cheer him by friendly converse, and spiritual consolation!"

"My G.o.d! my G.o.d!" cried Fritz, "this is too horrible--what will become of his poor mother, of Miss Helena?"

And hastening to the door he called loudly, in an accent of grief and despair,--

"Margaret! Margaret!"

The young girl rushed upstairs; the sound of Fritz's voice as he called her had alarmed her, and she looked anxiously in at the door of the sick-room.

"My lieutenant is dying! for G.o.d's sake fetch the doctor quickly!"

cried Fritz Deyke as he went to meet her.