Naught’s had, all’s spent
When our desires are gained without content—Shakespeare.
The grand satisfaction was received; but it did not prove so highly satisfactory after all. Grand satisfactions seldom do.
Prince Ernest raised his fallen foe in his arms, supported him upon his bosom and gazed on his upturned, pallid face in pity and distress.
“Quick! you come hither, monsieur! Quick! you come hither, Doctor Dietz!” he called hastily to his own surgeon, who with the two seconds and the valet were hurrying to the spot.
“Good Heaven! he is killed!” cried Francis Tredegar, throwing himself down in a kneeling posture beside his friend and relieving Prince Ernest of the weight of the body.
Doctor Dietz dropped on his knee on the other side and began hastily to unloosen the clothes and examine the condition of the wounded man.
Major Zollenhoffar bent sadly over the group.
Simms, the valet, stood gaping and staring in speechless consternation.
The impulsive Austrian skipped around the circle, acting in his distress more like an excitable dancing master than an accomplished Prince.