She sank upon her knees, and taking the lieutenant's hand pressed it to her lips, breathing on it with her warm breath; her sad, tearless eyes were fixed upon his face, and her lips sometimes moved, repeating the same whispered words, "Oh! my God! let me follow him!" Thus they continued motionless for some time--Helena crouched beside the bed, Fritz Deyke standing near her, and regarding her with great emotion, as he brushed away the tears with the back of his hand. The candidate sat in the adjoining room, with an expression of deep sympathy upon his features, his hands folded, and his lips moving as if in silent prayer. Then came the surgeon and the two ladies. Madame von Wendenstein was about to hasten to her son's bedside, but the surgeon held her back gravely, almost roughly. "No one can be of any use here but myself," he said energetically; "the sick belong to me. Ladies must leave the room; if they are wanted, I will call them." Fritz gently pushed Madame von Wendenstein and her daughter into the adjoining room; Helena rose quietly, and seated herself at some distance. The surgeon approached the bed; he carefully examined the sick man's face, looked at the wound, and held his hand for a long time upon his heart, gazing at his watch at the same time. The candidate went up to Madame von Wendenstein, who had sunk upon a chair, her face covered with her hands. "Compose yourself, much honoured lady," he said in his gentlest voice; "all hope is not yet over, and if it is the will of Providence to put a period to your son's life, you must think how many, many parents have to bear the same, and often even greater sorrow." Madame von Wendenstein only replied by her sobs. The old surgeon now returned to the ladies. Scarcely had he left the bed, when Helena returned to her place, and again taking the hand strove to warm it with her breath. "It is a frightful crisis," said the doctor; "I cannot understand its cause, but alas! it leaves us little hope. We must be prepared for the worst; but the heart still beats, and as long as there is a spark of life a physician does not despair. There is really nothing to be done; if nature does not help herself, our knowledge is powerless. But how," he continued, turning to the candidate, "did this alarming crisis come on? My patient was perfectly quiet when I last saw him." "He continued so," said the candidate, "for some time after I had taken my place beside his bed; he awoke from a deep sleep, I gave him some drink, and he appeared quite well; whilst I was endeavouring to refresh his soul with spiritual consolation, a convulsive movement came on, followed by this gush of blood. It was quick and sudden."