Doctors could do no more, and at four in the afternoon of the fatal day it was evident that the end was near. Maud, who had nursed him with a devotion unsurpassed, was deputed to break the news. He came to the bedside and suggested that Steevens should dictate a wire to his people at home. The patient looked up suddenly, and in a moment was conscious of the sinister purport of the request. The conversation which ensued was something of the following:—
"Is it the end?"
Maud nodded assent.
"Will it be soon?"
Again Maud nodded assent.
Steevens turned wearily, and remarked, "Well, it is a strange sideway out!" Then there passed over his face an expression which plainly read, "I will not die!"
He turned to Maud and said, almost gaily, "Let's have a drink."
Maud opened a new bottle of champagne and poured out half a glass. Steevens sipped it, and noticing that Maud had no glass, remarked, "You are not drinking!"
He seemed better after the wine, and when the last message was dictated he was still struggling for life; but the disease had the upper hand, and he sank into unconsciousness which was never broken until he passed away in the evening.
We buried him at midnight. As we took him down to the cypress grove, it seemed that the enemy paid tribute to our sorrow, for their searchlight played full upon the mournful cavalcade as it wound into the open.