Margaret had hastened out; she knew the way that the surgeon had taken with the ladies, and flew after him. She soon saw him near the first houses of the little town. He had led the ladies to a shady alley, and was taking leave of them, as he wished to return to his other patients.
The young maiden was quite breathless when she reached him. The surgeon looked at her with amazement, Helena's eyes were fixed upon her in anxious fear.
"For God's sake, sir!" cried Margaret, struggling for breath enough to bring out her words, "I think--I fear--the poor lieutenant--"
"What has happened?" cried the surgeon, in alarm.
"I fear he is dead," gasped Margaret. "Come, quick! quick!"
Madame von Wendenstein seized the surgeon's arm, as if seeking a support, but she hastened along in silence, really hurrying the doctor with her; he was endeavouring to gain from Margaret some particulars of this unexpected seizure.
Helena rushed on first, and her flying feet scarcely touched the ground. She uttered one cry when Margaret gave her terrible message, then she fled with vacant eyes through the streets, until she came to old Lohmeier's house, and flying up the stairs, reached the lieutenant's room.
She paused for a moment at the threshold, sighed deeply, and pressed both her hands against her breast. Then she opened the door, and stood gazing on the young man's deathlike face. Nothing had changed, and Fritz Deyke stood before him, carefully removing the blood that streamed from his lips with a white handkerchief.
Fritz raised his head and turned round. When he saw Helena standing there an image of silent despair, he comprehended that her sorrow was greater than his own. He rose slowly, and said, in a low, trembling voice,--
"I think the good God has called him; come, Miss Helena, if anyone can awake him, you can!"