"Now, my dearest brother," exclaimed Richard, after a brief pause, "in the name of Thomas Armstrong, you are forgiven the injury which you did to him!"
"Thank you, dear brother, for that assurance: it relieves my mind of a heavy load! And, Richard," continued Eugene, in a voice tremulous with emotions and faint with the ebb of life's spirit, "the prediction is verified—you are a great man! The world is filled with the glory of your name—and you are as good as you are great! The appointment has been kept:—but how? We meet beneath the foliage of the two trees—you as the heir apparent to a throne—I as a ruined profligate!"
"No—no!" exclaimed the Prince; "you shall live to be rich and prosperous——"
Eugene smiled faintly.
"Merciful heavens! he is dying!" ejaculated Ellen.
And it was so!
Terrible was the anguish of those by whom he was surrounded.
Mr. Wentworth, the surgeon, appeared at this crisis; but his attentions were ministered in vain.
Eugene's eyes grew dim—still he continued sensible; and he knew that his last moments were approaching.
Richard—Ellen—Katherine—Eliza Sydney—the two children—Mario Bazzano—Isabella—Mr. Monroe—and the faithful Whittingham—all wept bitterly, as the surgeon shook his head in despair!