s of several persons came
near, and then two acolytes, carrying lighted tapers, appeared, followed
by a venerable man robed in white, and bearing in his hands a silver
chalice. Two other priests followed him, chanting the last service, and
behind all there came a female figure dressed in deep mourning; she was
tall and graceful-looking, and her step had the firm tread of youth,
but her head was bowed down with sorrow, and she held her veil pressed
closely over her face. They gathered round the bed of the wounded man,
and the priest took hold of his hand and lifted it slowly from the bed;
and letting it go, it fell heavily down again, with a dull sound. The
old man bent over the bed, touched the pale features, and gazed into the
eyes, and then with clasped hands he sank down on his knees and prayed
aloud; the others knelt beside him--all save one; she threw herself
with frantic grief upon the dead body (for he was dead) and wept
passionately. In vain they strove to calm her sorrow, or even withdraw
her from the spot. She clung madly to it, and would not be induced to
leave it.

'I think I see her still before me--her long hair, black as night,
streaming back from her pale forehead,'and hanging down her shoulders;
her eyes fixed on the dead man's face, and her hands pressed hard upon
her heart, as if to lull its agony. In all the wild transport of her
grief she was beautiful; for although pale to sickness, and worn with
watching, her large and lustrous eyes, her nose straight and finely
chiselled like the features of an antique cameo, and her mouth, where
mingled pride and sorrow trembled, gave her an expression of loveliness
I cannot convey. Such was she, as she watched beside her brother's
death-bed day and night, silent and motionless; for as the first burst
of grief was over she seemed to nerve her courage to the task; and
even when the hour came, and they bore the body away to its last
resting-place, not a sigh or sob escaped her.

'The vacant spot--though it had been tenanted by suffering and
misery--brought gloom to my heart. I had been accustomed each day to
look for him at sunrise, and each evening to see him as the light of
day declined; and I sorrowed like one deserted and alone. Not all alone!
for, as if by force of habit, when evening came, _she_ was at her place
near the altar.

'The fever, and my own anxious thoughts, preyed on my mind that night;
and as I lay awake I felt parched and hot, and wished to