He smiled, took her hand, and laid it on his breast; and in the same moment closing his eyes, a calm refreshing sleep stole over him. The Assessor sate silently beside them, and observed them both: it was not long, however, before he was obliged to leave them, being summoned suddenly to some one who was dangerously ill. He left them with the promise to return in the course of the night. Munter was called in the city the night-physician, because there was no one like him who appeared earnestly willing to give his help by night as by day.
The mother breathed deeply when she saw herself alone with her son. She folded her hands, and raised her eyes to heaven with an expression which through the whole of the foregoing days had been foreign to them. It was no longer restless, almost murmuring anxiety; it was a mournful, yet at the same time, deep, perfect, nay, almost loving resignation. She bent over her son, and spoke in a low voice out of the depths of her affectionate heart.
"Go, my sweet boy, go! I will no longer hold thee back, since it is painful to thee! May the deliverer come! Thy mother will no longer contend with him to retain thee! May he come as a friendly angel and make an end of thy sufferings! I—will then be satisfied! Go then, my first-born, my summer-child; go, and if there may never more come a summer to the heart of thy mother—still go! that thou mayst have rest! Did I make thy cradle sweet, my child! so would I not embitter by my lamentations thy death-bed! Blessed be thou! Blessed be He also who gave thee to me, and who now takes thee from me to a better home! Some time, my son, I shall come home to thee; go thou beforehand, my child! Thou art weary, so weary! Thy last wandering was heavy to thee; now thou wilt rest. Come thou good deliverer, come thou beloved death, and give rest to his heart; but easily, easily. Let him not suffer more—let him not endure more. Never did he give care to his parents——"
At this moment Henrik opened his eyes, and fixed them calmly and full of expression on his mother.
"Thank God!" said he, "I feel no more pain."
"Thanks and praise be given to God, my child!" said she.
Mother and son looked on each other with deep and cheerful love! they understood each other perfectly.
"When I am no more," said he, with a faint and broken voice, "then—tell it to Gabriele, prudently; she has such tender feelings—and she is not strong. Do not tell it to her on a day—when it is cold and dull—but—on a day—when the sun shines warm—when all things look bright and kindly—then, then tell her—that I am gone away—and greet her—and tell her from me—that it is not difficult—to die!—that there is a sun on the other side——"
He ceased, but with a loving smile on his lips, and his eyes closed their lids as if from very weariness.
Presently afterwards he spoke again, but in a very low voice. "Sing me something, mother," said he, "I shall then sleep more calmly, 'They knock! I come!'"