e--the old servant. Sigmund happened at the moment
not to be in the sitting-room; Eugen and I were. There was a knock, and
in answer to our _Herein!_ there entered an elderly man of soldierly
appearance, with a grizzled mustache, and stiff, military bearing; he
was dressed in a very plain, but very handsome livery, and on entering
the room and seeing Eugen, he paused just within the door, and saluted
with a look of deep respect; nor did he attempt to advance further.
Eugen had turned very pale.

It struck me that he might have something to say to this messenger of
fate, and with some words to that effect I rose to leave them together.
Eugen laid his hand upon my arm.

"Sit still, Friedhelm." And turning to the man, he added: "How were all
when you left, Heinrich?"

"Well, Herr Gr--"

"Courvoisier."

"All were well, _mein Herr_."

"Wait a short time," said he.

A silent inclination on the part of the man. Eugen went into the inner
room where Sigmund was, and closed the door. There was silence. How long
did it endure? What was passing there? What throes of parting? What
grief not to be spoken or described?

Meanwhile the elderly man-servant remained in his sentinel attitude, and
with fixed expressionless countenance, within the door-way. Was the time
long to him, or short?

At last the door opened, and Sigmund came out alone. God help us all! It
is terrible to see such an expression upon a child's soft face. White
and set and worn as if with years of suffering was the beautiful little
face. The elderly man started, surprised from his impassiveness, as the
child came into the room. An irrepressible flash of emotion crossed his
face; he made a step forward. Sigmund seemed as if he did not see us. He
was making a mechanical way to the door, when I interrupted him.

"Sigmund, do not forget thy old Friedhelm!" I cried, clasping him in my
arms, and kissing his little pale face, thinking of the day, three years
ago, when his father had brought him wrapped up in the plaid on that wet
afternoon, and my heart had gone out to him.

"_Lieber_ Friedhelm!" he said, returning my embrace, "Love my father
when I--am gone. And--_auf--auf--wiedersehen_!"

He loosed his arms from round my neck and went up to the man, saying:

"I am ready."

The large horny hand clasped round the small delicate one. The
servant-man turned, and with a stiff, respectful bow to me, led Sigmund
from the room. The door closed after him--he was go