"
Thaddeus pressed his friend's hand to his streaming eyes, and
promised to be resigned. Butzou smiled his satisfaction; then closing
his eyelids, he composed himself to a rest that was neither sleep nor
stupor, but a balmy serenity, which seemed to be tempering his lately
recovered soul for its immediate entrance on a world of eternal
peace.
At nine o'clock his breath became broken with quick sighs. The
count's heart trembled, and he drew closer to the pillow. Butzou felt
him; and opening his eyes languidly, articulated, "Raise my head."
Thaddeus put his arm under his neck, and lifting him up, reclined him
against his bosom. Butzou grasped his hands, and looking gratefully
in his face, said, "The arms of a soldier should be a soldier's
death-bed. I am content."
He lay for a moment on the breast of the almost fainting Thaddeus;
then suddenly quitting his hold, he cried, "I lose you, Sobieski! But
there is----" and he gazed fixedly forward.
"I am here," exclaimed the count, catching his motionless hand. The
dying general murmured a few words more, and turning his face inward,
breathed his last sigh on the bosom of his last friend.
For a minute Sobieski continued incapable of thought or action. When
he recovered recollection, he withdrew from his melancholy station.
Laying the venerable remains back on the bed, he did not trust his
rallied faculties with a second trial, but hastening down stairs, was
met by Mrs.
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