ter from my spring."

Richard hurried to bring it.

What must his thoughts have been while on his way there and back!

He soon returned, bringing the water with him, but she seemed to have
forgotten that she had asked for it. When Richard lifted her up in bed,
and placed the glass to her lips, she motioned him away.

I heard a voice from without the house. A cold shudder came over me; my
hair stood on end.

It is the voice of our son Ernst!

If Ernst were to come at this time! Could he have been drawn here by a
presentiment of what is happening? And if he were here, what power
could dare take him away from us, at this moment--and how will he enter
his mother's presence?

I hurried out. It was Julius--his voice is just like Ernst's. He
brought a letter that Edward Levi had handed to him. It was from Ernst,
and was dated at Algiers.

I could not stop to read the letter. I could not remain away from the
bedside--every moment was yet a drop of blood to me, and everything
glimmered before my eyes. I hurried back to the sick-room; my wife
looked at me with strangely bright eyes.

"There is a letter here from Ernst!" I called out.

I do not know whether she understood me, but she reached for the sheet
that was in my hand, and held it with a convulsive grasp.

I lifted her head, and moved it towards the cooler side of the pillow;
she opened her eyes, and tried to raise her arms; I bent towards her
and she kissed me.

It was just striking the hour of noon, when she breathed her last.

I tottered to her room at last; it seemed to me as if I must still find
her alive; and when I was in her chair, I could not realize that I was
seated there, and that she lay so near me, while I could do nothing for
her.

I do not know how it was, but I felt awed by the very silence of the
place.

Martella said, "I have stopped the clock; it, too, shall stand still."

They had withdrawn the letter from her convulsively closed hand, and I
read it. It has since disappeared--whither, I know not. I remember only
this--that it contained news from Algiers, and that Ernst said in it
that if Martella and Richard were fond of one another, he was quite
ready to release her from any promise to him.

With the exception of Ernst and Ludwig, all of my children were
present. Many friends, too, were there. I recollect that I grasped the
hands of many of them; but what avails that? They all have their own
life left them--I have none.

All aro