"But what am I to do down stairs?"
"You see, Oswald," said Bruno, "I should like to see Helen more than anything in this life. And I cannot do it. I have no strength in my limbs. But, if you see her, I shall feel as if I also had seen her. Please, please go down stairs! You need not speak to anybody; only, if you can manage it, tell Helen I send her my best, my very best love--and perhaps she will say something in reply, perhaps she will say: Give my love to Bruno! Then you must come straight back to me, so as not to forget the tone of her voice when she said it. And listen, Oswald, before I forget it. It might be, you know, that I die suddenly, no--don't laugh, I am quite serious then, do not let them undress me; I want to be put in the coffin just as I am. Look here!--You know I always wear a medallion on my heart; it is my mother's; but that is not the only reason why it is so sacred to me; there is a lock of Helen's hair inside, which I cut off a long time ago in jest. If they should take the medallion from me, I think I could not be quiet in my grave. And now, please go! or it will be too late."
Oswald did not know what to do. If he did not do what the boy wished, he might bring back his feverish excitement, which seemed to have abated considerably. On the other hand, he did not like at all to leave him, even for a moment. And yet he would have been delighted to see Helen--only for an instant--so much must have taken place during these last hours.
Bruno soon made an end to his doubts.
"You promised me," he said, sadly, "and now you will not do it. You do not love me."
What could he do now? Oswald went into the adjoining room, his bed-chamber, and changed his dress. He had probably never in his life dressed for a party in a similar state of mind. The whole thing looked to him like hideous irony. He started back when he saw his own distorted face in the looking-glass. The last few hours seemed to have aged him as many years.
He came back to Bruno's bed.
"Let me look at you," said the boy, half rising. "How well you look! So stately and handsome!--kiss me, Oswald."
Oswald took the boy in his arms and kissed him on his fine, proud lips--so pale and parched, alas! Then he let him sink softly back on his pillow.
"I feel quite well, quite well," said Bruno. "Do not hurry yourself. I shall sleep delightfully till you come back."