“I also felt conscious of another presence, but could not see any one. Then all was dark again. I saw neither mist nor cot, but something spoke to me. A voice whispered in my ear, 'Tell Milan I forgive him.' That is the name of my mother's father.”
“How strange,” said the listeners, who had followed him closely to the end.
“Does your grandfather still live?” inquired one.
“He was alive this morning, and is now, for aught I know.”
The party were about to separate, when a messenger entered in great haste, and called for Berthold, stating that his (Berthold's) grandfather was very ill, and greatly desired his presence.
He was not long in answering the summons, leaving those who had listened to his story wondering over it, which wonder was not a little increased by this sudden call.
It was thought that the old gentleman was dying, but when Berthold went and sat by his side he brightened up, and motioned for the others to leave the room.
“I have been very ill,” he said, grasping the hand of his grandson, “and have had a terrible dream. For fear I may some day depart suddenly, I wish to tell you of a portion of my early life, that you may avoid the sin, and escape the suffering which I have endured.”
He then related the wrong of his early years, in deluding a young and pure girl, while loving another.
“Have you a picture of the one you allude to,” asked Berthold.