I went back to them and asked if anything more could be done. The answer was nothing; but I could not prevail further than to get all save one sent into an adjoining room; he who remained seated himself at a table some way off. Rudolf’s eyes had closed again; old Sapt, who had not once spoken since the shot was fired, raised a haggard face to mine. “We’d better fetch her to him,” he said hoarsely. I nodded my head. Sapt went while I stayed by him. Bernenstein came to him, bent down, and kissed his hand. The young fellow, who had borne himself with such reckless courage and dash throughout the affair, was quite unmanned now, and the tears were rolling down his face. I could have been much in the same plight, but I would not before Mr. Rassendyll. He smiled at Bernenstein. Then he said to me: “Is she coming, Fritz?” “Yes, she’s coming, sire,” I answered. He noticed the style of my address; a faint amused gleam shot into his languid eyes. “Well, for an hour, then,” he murmured, and lay back on his pillows. She came, dry-eyed, calm, and queenly. We all drew back, and she knelt down by his bed, holding his hand in her two hands. Presently the hand stirred; she let it go; then, knowing well what he wanted, she raised it herself and placed it on her head, while she bowed her face to the bed. His hand wandered for the last time over the gleaming hair that he had loved so well. She rose, passed her arm about his shoulders, and kissed his lips. Her face rested close to his, and he seemed to speak to her, but we could not have heard the words even if we would. So they remained for a long while. The doctor came and felt his pulse, retreating afterwards with close-shut lips. We drew a little nearer, for we knew that he would not be long with us now. Suddenly strength seemed to come upon him. He raised himself in his bed, and spoke in distinct tones. “God has decided,” he said. “I’ve tried to do the right thing through it all. Sapt, and Bernenstein, and you, old Fritz, shake my hand. No, don’t kiss it. We’ve done with pretence now.” We shook his hand as he bade us. Then he took the queen’s hand. Again she knew his mind, and moved it to his lips. “In life and in death, my sweet queen,” he murmured. And thus he fell asleep. CHAPTER XXI. THE COMING OF THE DREAM