"Ah, my forebodings!" he exclaimed; and, without adding a word, he ran to the cloisters. I followed him.
From the apartment of the superior, the Princess Amelie had been conveyed to her cell, after her last interview with monseigneur. One of the sisters watched over her, and at the end of an hour she perceived that the Princess Amelie's voice, who spoke to her at intervals, was weaker, and more and more oppressed. The sister hastened to inform the superior, who sent for Doctor David, who administered a cordial; but it was useless, the pulse was scarcely perceptible. He saw with despair that the reiterated emotions having probably exhausted the little strength of the Princess Amelie, there was not a hope of saving her left. Monseigneur arrived at this moment. The Princess Amelie had just received the last sacrament; a slight degree of consciousness remained. In one hand, crossed over her chest, she held the remains of her little rose-tree.
Monseigneur fell on his knees at the foot of the bed, and sobbed, "My child! My beloved child!" in a voice of piercing agony. The Princess Amelie heard him, turned her head a little towards him, opened her eyes, tried to smile, and said, in a faint voice, "My dearest father, pardon!—Henry, too!—and my beloved mother!—pardon!"
These were her last words. After a slight struggle of one hour, she rendered her soul to God.
When his daughter had breathed her last sigh, monseigneur did not say a word; his calmness and silence were frightful. He closed the eyelids of the princess, kissed her forehead several times, took piously from her hands the relics of the little rose-tree, and left the cell. I followed him, and he returned to the house outside the cloister, when, showing me the letter he had commenced writing to your royal highness, and to which he in vain endeavoured to add a few words, for his hand trembled too convulsively, he said to me, "I cannot write! I am crushed! My senses are gone! Write to the grand duchess that I have no longer a daughter!"
I have executed the orders of monseigneur. May I be allowed, as his old servant, to entreat your royal highness to hasten your return as soon as the health of M. d'Orbigny will permit? Nothing but the presence of your royal highness can calm monseigneur's despair. He will watch his daughter's remains every night until the day when she is to be buried in the grand-ducal chapel.
I have accomplished my sad task, madame. Deign, to excuse the incoherence of this letter, and to receive the expression of respectful devotion with which I have the honour to be
Your royal highness's most obedient servant,
Walter Murphy.
On the evening before the funeral of the Princess Amelie, Clémence arrived at Gerolstein with her father. Rodolph was not alone on the day of Fleur-de-Marie's interment.
THE END.