'We were betrothed together for life and death, Carl.'
'Were—are, you mean, Ernestine.'
'Yes, beloved Carl; but time presses—alas! I fear that I must leave you now.'
'But to meet again——'
'Very soon.'
'I have brought these for you from Lorraine. This is the bullet that struck me down, and this cross is a trophy of the war.'
'How pretty—nay, it is beautiful and interesting, too,' she exclaimed, with something of her old gleeful way, as he clasped round her slender throat a gold necklet he had procured in Aix, and now the white enamelled cross hung thereat.
She shuddered when she looked at the chassepot ball and took it in her hand.
'And this actually pierced you, my Carl?'
'Nearly through and through, love. For five days it was in unpleasant proximity to my lungs.'