Just then a stretcher, borne by four soldiers, came past us. We recognized the body of the professor, terribly mangled.
The Grand Duke bent over it and took a long look. Then, throwing back the cloth over the horrid vision, he murmured:
"This was bound to happen sooner or later, with an old fool like that."
Such was the funeral oration of Herr Professor Cyrus Beck, of Kiel University.
* * * * * *
The Grand Duchess, Melusine and I went back to the left wing of the palace. It was about six o'clock. The day already promised to be very hot, for the summer sun rose red over the awful scene of desolation.
Melusine had joined us when the fire first began. She had spent the time helping the Grand Duchess to attend to the injured firemen and soldiers, who had been taken to the banqueting-hall.
Aurora hadn't a word to say as she walked, and, busied with the burden of our own reflections, we respected her silence.
Suddenly she raised her head and smilingly showed me something in the blue sky, already turning white with heat.
A bird, coming from the east, was flying above our heads. It had a curious, jerky flight, now rising, now falling, the flight of birds with short wings, like the quail and partridge.