But it was no longer the same
as when Sobieski last stood by its side. A simple white marble tomb
now occupied the place of its former long grass and yarrow.
Surprised, he bent forward, and read with brimming eyes the following
inscription:--
1795-6.
Stop, Traveller! Thou treadest on a Hero.
Here rest the mortal remains
of
LIEUTENANT-GENERAL BUTZOU,
Late of the Kingdom of Poland.
A faithful soldier to his Lord and to his country!
He sleeps in Faith and Hope!
Thaddeus for a moment felt as he did when he beheld those "mortal
remains" laid there. But his own faith in that hope which consecrated
this mortality to an immortal resurrection had then silently spread
the balm of its full assurance overall those remembered pangs; and
now, without speaking, he led his also pensive and tremulous
companion to her carriage, where it awaited them, and seating her
within it, clasped her to his breast. His tears, no longer
restrained, poured those sweet pledges of a soul-felt approbation
into her bosom that made it even ache with excess of happiness. But
while the grateful voice of her husband was beginning to breathe its
uttered thanks, he found the carriage stop again, in a street not far
distant from the one they had just quitted. It drew up at the door of
a handsome house, of an apparently contemporary structure with the
church.
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