"It is too late; besides, those I have cured did not suffer from that complaint." And he left, taking with him the empress's last ray of hope. However, the emperor reopened his eyes towards half-past ten that morning, and all waited anxiously for him to speak. But he did not utter a word; he only took the empress's hand, kissed it and laid it on his heart. The empress remained bent over him in the position her husband's hand caused her to take, and at ten minutes to eleven the emperor died. The empress's face was so close to his that she felt him draw his last breath. She uttered a terrible cry and fell on her knees in prayer; not even the doctor dared to approach the body, for she had made a sign to all around not to disturb her. Then, some minutes later, she rose in a calmer state of mind, closed the emperor's eyes, which had remained open, tied a handkerchief round his head to prevent his jaws from dropping, kissed his hands already as cold as ice, and, again falling on her knees, she remained in prayer by the bedside until the doctors were obliged to ask her to withdraw into another room, while they made a post-mortem examination. Whilst this sad operation proceeded, the widowed empress wrote to the dowager-empress:-- "Our angel is in heaven, while I still linger on earth.... Alas! who would ever have thought that I, weak and ill as I am, should have survived him?... Mother, I entreat you not to desert me, for I am absolutely alone in this world of sorrow! "The face of our beloved dead has resumed its expression of gentle kindliness; the smile upon it assures me that he is happy, and that his eyes see better things than here below.... My only comfort in this irreparable loss is that I shall not long survive him!..." And, indeed, the empress died six months later.