amuse themselves in various ways. Only D'Effernay
remained at home; he was never very fond of large societies, and we
voted that he was discontented and out of humor because his betrothed
bride was not with him. His room was next to the sick man's, to whom he
gave all possible care and attention, for poor Hallberg, besides being
ill, was in despair at giving so much trouble in a strange house.
D'Effernay tried to calm him on this point; he nursed him, amused him
with conversation, mixed his medicines, and, in fact, showed more
kindness and tenderness, than any of us would have given him credit
for. Before I went to bed I visited Hallberg, and found him much better,
and more cheerful; the doctor had promised that he should leave his bed
next day. So I left him and retired with the rest of the world, rather
late, and very tired, to rest. The next morning I was awoke by the fatal
tidings. I did not wait to dress, I ran to his room, it was full of
people."

"And how, how was the death first discovered?" inquired Edward, in
breathless eagerness.

"The servant, who came in to attend on him, thought he was asleep, for
he lay in his usual position, his head upon his hand. He went away and
waited for some time; but hours passed, and he thought he ought to wake
his master to give him his medicine. Then the awful discovery was made.
He must have died peacefully, for his countenance was so calm, his limbs
undisturbed. A fit of apoplexy had terminated his life, but in the most
tranquil manner."

"Incomprehensible," said Edward, with a deep sigh. "Did they take no
measures to restore animation?"

"Certainly; all that could be done was done, bleeding, fomentation,
friction; the physician superintended, but there was no hope, it was all
too late. He must have been dead some hours, for he was already cold and
stiff. If there had been a spark of life in him he would have been
saved. It was all over; I had lost my good lieutenant, and the regiment
one of its finest officers."

He was silent, and appeared lost in thought. Edward, for his part, felt
overwhelmed by terrible suspicions and sad memories. After a long pause
he recovered himself: "and where was D'Effernay?" he inquired.

"D'Effernay," answered the captain, rather surprised at the question;
"oh! he was not in the castle when we made the dreadful discovery: he
had gone out for an early walk, and when he came back late, not before
noon, he learned the truth, and was like on