My only duty left was to stay and see this unhappy man die.
I was exhausted with fatigue and anxiety; whatever art could do I had
tried.
I told Sperver to sit up, and close his master's eyes in death. The poor
faithful fellow was in the utmost distress; he reproached himself with
his involuntary cry--"Count of Nideck--what are you doing?" and tore his
hair in bitter repentance.
I went away alone to Hugh Lupus's tower, having had scarcely any time to
take food, but I did not feel the want of it.
There was a bright fire on the hearth; I threw myself dressed upon the
bed, and sleep soon came to relieve my weight of apprehension--that heavy
sleep broken by the consciousness that you may any minute be awoke by
tears and lamentations.
I was sleeping thus, with my face turned towards the fire, and as it
often happens, the flame fitfully rising, and falling threw a fluttering,
flickering light like those of ruddy flapping wings against the walls,
and wearied still more my dropping eyelids.
Lost in a dreamy slumber, I was half opening my eyes to see the cause of
these alternate lights and shadows, but the strangest sight surprised me.
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