She made a step, but her trembling feet refused to support her. She grew dizzy, and sank down upon her knees.
Christina uttered a cry, and would have flown for help but Isabella held her back. "My end approaches," said she. "My senses fail me. Hear my last words. When I am dead, you will find a letter for you. Swear that you will comply with its demands."
"I swear!" said Christina, solemnly.
"I am content. Now call the physician."
Day after day of anguish went by—of such anguish as the human heart can bear, but which human language is inadequate to paint.
Isabella was borne to her chamber, and the imperial physician was called in. The empress followed him to the bedside, where pale and motionless sat Joseph, his eyes riveted upon the beloved wife who, for the first time, refused to smile upon him, for the first time was deaf to his words of love and sorrow.
The physician bent over the princess and took her hand. He felt her head, then her heart, while the empress, with folded hands, stood praying beside him: and Joseph, whose eyes were now turned upon him, looked into his face, as if his whole soul lay in one long gaze of entreaty.
Van Swieten spoke not a word, but continued his examination. He bade the weeping attendants uncover the feet of the princess, and bent over them in close and anxious scrutiny. As he raised his eyes, the archduke saw that Van Swieten was very pale.
"Oh, doctor," cried he, in tones of agony, "do not say that she will die! You have saved so many lives! Save my wife, my treasured wife, and take all that I possess in the world beside!"
The physician replied not, but went again to the head of the bed, and looked intently at the face of the princess. It had now turned scarlet, and here and there was flecked with spots of purple. Van Swieten snatched from Joseph one of the burning hands which he held clasped within his own.