In another moment I was on my knees at the bedside, my face pressed upon her pillow, sobbing, ”Mother! oh my mother!” She did not speak, but laid her thin tremulous hand on my head and let it rest there. I was convulsed with grief to think of losing her after I had been away from her so long, and that she was dying under such distressing circumstances, without a home, under a strange roof, and with a consciousness of helpless dependence.
As in moments of great danger a retrospect of our whole lives rises before us, so in this deep distress all my acts of disobedience and unkindness toward mother; every time that I had wounded her feelings; every harsh word I had uttered, all came with cruel distinctness into memory to torture me, and I longed, in my agony, to ask her forgiveness for every one, and to assure her again and again of my love. But Carlotta’s warning, and the strange look on her face, made me afraid to speak, and I knelt with my face on the pillow, silently weeping, till she herself broke the silence of the chamber.
”Carlotta,” she said, in a voice so changed that I raised up to look at her, ”this is John, is it not? When did he come? Does he know that his father is dead?”
Carlotta made a sign to me not to speak, and drawing a chair up to the bedside, she took mother’s hand in her’s and said:
”Yes, mother, this is John. He knows all about father’s death, and about the burning of the house; and he has come through the Federal lines, at great risk, to see you. Can you not arouse yourself to talk to him! He wishes to know if you feel better to-night?”
Mother now gazed at me with the old look of fondness as she said:
”Is this my dear boy? and have you come to see your mother? God bless you for it! I will make the effort to speak with you; but oh! I cannot remain conscious. Now all that has transpired is perfectly clear and distinct before me, and I recognize my dear child’s face, and know why he has come; but presently a dull gray cloud, or something from afar off, will float up and envelope my mind, and all I know or remember becomes confused. Carlotta, darling, help me keep the cloud away.”
”I will, mother,” said Carlotta, dampening a cloth and laying it on her forehead; but even as the cool moisture touched her skin the vacant look came again to her face, and she asked, looking at me with earnest inquiry: ”John, have you brought your father home; is the grave ready? Go have it made wider. I am coming to lie by his side.”
Utterly helpless, we both sat watching and listening to her incoherent mutterings about father’s lonely grave, and her desire to go to it, till, dozing off into her stupor again, she was silent. In a few minutes she opened her eyes, and was for another interval herself again.
”John, my precious child,” she said, trying to put her arm around my neck and draw me down to her, ”God alone knows how I desire to talk with you, for this will be the last converse we will ever hold on earth. I do not wish to grieve you unnecessarily, but I feel that I am dying.”