“Ah, no! Father, I mistake not, even now I hear his footstep in the hall. He approaches. Oh, my heart! cease not to beat, till I have seen him once again,” she exclaimed, nor had her sense of hearing deceived her; rendered still more acute, as her other faculties were fast failing.
In a few moments, a gentle knock was heard, and the dwarf entered. “I know that he is come,” said the lady, “oh! let me see him without delay; and holy Father, I would be alone with him.” The priest rose to obey her wishes, and withdrew with the attendants, as Ivan entered.
As she saw him, her faded eye brightened; and she stretched out her arms to receive him, as throwing himself on his knees by the side of the couch, he shaded his face with his hands, and a convulsive sob escaped his bosom.
“Do I find you thus?” he exclaimed after a moment’s pause, “my friend—my kind protectress? why was I not before apprised of your illness? why was I not here to solace and comfort you?”
“I knew not that death was making such rapid strides towards me,” answered the lady; “but think not that I am unhappy. Now that I have you with me, loved one! I am content to bear my lot; but I must not waste these precious moments, for I have much to say and my time on earth will quickly end. Listen to me,” and she spoke in that language which she had taught Ivan in his youth, and in which they loved to commune together.
“Can you remember the early days of your youth, and those scenes of which I once forbade you to speak?” she said.
“Yes—yes—vividly can I now recall several to my mind,” answered Ivan. “I remember a strange land, and scenes far different to this country; and also your kindness, your love from my earliest days.”
“Think you that the affection and fond solicitude with which I tended your youth, could ever have been felt by any but a mother! None but a mother could feel the undying love which I bear for you. My boy! my child! come to my arms, and let me hold thee there, before I die. You are—you are my son, and though in life, I dared not, for your sake, acknowledge it, I rejoice to die, that now I may declare the truth before all the world.”
“My heart always told me so,” exclaimed the young man, fondly embracing her, as she held out her arms to receive him. “O my loved mother! would that I might thus have called you before! but say who is my father? Is it not the Baron?”
“Thank great Heaven! no, my loved son—no! Your father was noble, generous, and brave; methinks, I now see his noble countenance reflected in my boy; but my strength fails me, my voice grows weak. Listen, ere it be too late, to my story.