Swedenborg approached her, and as his glance fell upon her fixed eyes, he exclaimed with emotion: 'she is dead!'
And the clock struck the third hour of the morning.
CHAPTER LIV.
The black funereal flag was waving from the towers of Gyllensten as Arwed slowly approached it with the remains of poor Christine. The tolling of bells was heard from the castle chapel and from Umea, and the domestics of the family surrounded the carriage with weeping eyes.
'How is my uncle?' asked Arwed, with fearful apprehension.
'I bring you his last greeting,' said the gray old steward, with a trembling voice. 'He went to his God early on the day before yesterday, about the third hour. His last word was, 'Christine!''
CHAPTER LV.
Long years had passed, and Gustavus the third sat firmly upon Sweden's throne, as at Lubec a noble dame, upon whose pure beauty time had left no traces, sat upon a sofa in her cabinet. She had leaned her thoughtful head upon her full white arm, while the strong heaving of her bosom and the mild fire of her large brown eyes betrayed the sad and absorbing nature of the reminiscences which occupied her mind. The door was softly opened, and a blooming maiden cautiously protruded her head into the room and was about to withdraw it again.
'Come in, Georgina!' cried the dame. 'I am not yet asleep. Have you any thing to say to me!'
'A young officer wishes to speak with you, mamma,' answered the beautiful maiden, entering.