Dr. Watson and Sir Henry Holland were now associated with the other two physicians, and for a few days the invalid seemed to improve, though his mind wandered at times in a most distressing manner. On the eleventh a bulletin was issued, informing the public that the prince was seriously ill, though his case was not yet considered dangerous. He could not bear to have the queen absent from his bedside for an instant, and constantly spoke kind and tender words to her. In the evening the symptoms were not so favorable, and great anxiety was felt. Lord Palmerston was laid up with an attack of gout; but he was kept informed of the prince's condition, as were the rest of the ministers, inquiries being made regularly by them all. Between frequent changes from better to worse and worse to better, two more days passed, and on the fourteenth, Dr. Brown, who had been in attendance on the royal family for more than twenty years, informed her majesty that the crisis was over, and there was ground for hope. This was good news indeed! "I went over at seven, as I usually did," writes her majesty. "It was a bright morning, the sun just rising, and shining brightly. The room had the sad look of nightwatching, and the candles burnt down to their sockets, the doctors looking anxious. I went in, and never can I forget how beautiful my darling looked, lying there with his face lit up by the rising sun, his eyes unusually bright, gazing, as it were, on unseen objects, and not taking notice of me." {471}It was true that the prince consort had rallied; but he was not really better, and the Prince of Wales, who, in answer to a telegram, had arrived during the night, had been informed by Sir Henry Holland of his father's state. During the day there was little change; the prince spoke from time to time to the queen, called her "_Gutes Frauchen_" and recognized each of the children as they came in and kissed his hand. The next evening the queen was summoned from the adjoining room, where she had gone only a few moments before to give vent to her grief. She knew only too well what it meant. She entered, took the prince's hand, and knelt down. On the other side of the bed was the Princess Alice, and at the foot knelt the Prince of Wales and Princess Helena. Physicians and others stood near in different parts of the room. Not a sound was to be heard within that mournful chamber; the gentle spirit was passing calmly, peacefully away. The castle clock chimed the third quarter after ten. Two or three long but gentle breaths were drawn, the beloved features settled into a sweet repose, and all was over.