“At last he went out, only an hour before she breathed her last, and she expired in our arms, on the fourth day of the Christmas holidays, at four o’clock in the morning, with these words upon her lips:
“‘My God! bestow a mother upon my son!’”
“We testify that she died like a saint, without having had a single moment of anger, of delirium, or even of religious doubt.
“After closing her eyes, we stopped the clock, and blew out the Christmas candle which was burning in the chandelier, with the prayer to God that we might see this clock set in motion, and the candle lighted, by the hand of our future young master.
“After which, we have drawn up this writing which we are going to hide and seal up, together with that of our well-beloved mistress, in the wall of her chamber, in the place which she herself indicated, all things being prepared to that end.
“And, with many tears, we both of us sign our names, swearing that we have certified only to the exact truth.
“Adam Stenson,
“Karine Bœtsoi.”
The pastor read these simple pages with so much feeling and pathos, that the women wept, and the men, touched and convinced, gave three cheers for Christian de Waldemora, and crowded around him, eager to shake hands with him and to offer him their congratulations. The heirs, however (from this malignant set the old Count de Nora and his son must always be excepted), declared that they should require the appearance of Karine Bœtsoi; having gathered, probably, from the reports in circulation about her, that this woman was still alive, and was mad. They hoped that they could object to her as a witness; and the major also dreaded exceedingly the effect of her appearance, and hastened to say that she was ill, and lived at a considerable distance. He was interrupted by a rough, although kindly voice: that of Danneman Joë Bœtsoi.
“Why do you say what is not so, Monsieur Major?” cried the honest man. “Karine Bœtsoi is neither so ill nor so far away as you suppose. She has had her sleep here, and now that she has rested, her mind is as clear as your own. Do not be afraid to call Karine Bœtsoi. It is true that the poor soul has suffered, above all since the day when she had to be separated from the child, and that she says things that cannot be understood; but, for all that, her head is good and her will firm. What proves it is, that nobody has been able to find out her secret, not even myself, who knew the child, and who have just learned his name and history for the first time in my life. Now, a woman who can keep a secret is not like an ordinary woman, and what she says ought to be believed.”
Rising, he went to the door of the guard-room, and threw it open.