Karl looked across the bent figures of his soldiers to the great fort on the summit of the rocks. M. Siquier who was close behind him called out to him not to expose himself, for his head and shoulders showed above the earthworks which were directly opposite to one of the cannon on the advanced fortification of Fredrikssten; the Norwegians could be observed moving round this battery. Karl looked over his shoulder and smiled; without speaking he returned to his observation; his silence conveyed extraordinary arrogance, vitality, and power.
Suddenly he put his hand to his sword and gave a great sigh.
“Sire!” cried M. Siquier.
Karl remained motionless, standing like a sentinel with his sword half drawn from the scabbard, facing the dark heights.
As the aide-de-camp mounted beside him he fell forward on the frozen earth, his haughty head suddenly bowed face downwards on the parapet. A stray musket-ball had entered his left temple; when M. Siquier touched him he was already dead.
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