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.
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