If, therefore, they could regret the loss of such a
companion as Murphy, how deep and heartfelt must have
been the sorrow they experienced when they beheld the
brave, generous, manly, amiable, and highly-talented
Frederick de Haldimar--the pride of the garrison, and
the idol of his family--lying extended, a cold, senseless
corpse, slain by the hand of the bosom friend of his own
brother!--Notwithstanding the stern severity and distance
of the governor, whom few circumstances, however critical
or exciting, could surprise into relaxation of his habitual
stateliness, it would have been difficult to name two
young men more universally liked and esteemed by their
brother officers than were the De Haldimars--the first
for the qualities already named--the second, for those
retiring, mild, winning manners, and gentle affections,
added to extreme and almost feminine beauty of countenance
for which he was remarkable. Alas, what a gloomy picture
was now exhibited to the minds of all!--Frederick de
Haldimar a corpse, and slain by the hand of Sir Everard
Valletort! What but disunion could follow this melancholy
catastrophe? and how could Charles de Haldimar, even if
his bland nature should survive the shock, ever bear to
look again upon the man who had, however innocently or
unintentionally, deprived him of a brother whom he adored?
These were the impressions that passed through the minds
of the compassionating officers, as they directed their
glance alternately from the common to the pale and
marble-like features of the younger De Haldimar, who,
with parted lips and stupid gaze, continued to fix his
eyes upon the inanimate form of his ill-fated brother,
as if the very faculty of life itself had been for a
period suspended.
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