At length, however, while his companions
watched in silence the mining workings of that grief
which they feared to interrupt by ill-timed observations,
even of condolence, the death-like hue, which had hitherto
suffused the usually blooming cheek of the young officer,
was succeeded by a flush of the deepest dye, while his
eyes, swollen by the tide of blood now rushing violently
to his face, appeared to be bursting from their sockets.
The shock was more than his delicate frame, exhausted as
it was by watching and fatigue, could bear. He tottered,
reeled, pressed his hand upon his head, and before any
one could render him assistance, fell senseless on the
ramparts.
During the interval between Sir Everard Valletort's
exclamation, and the fall of Charles de Haldimar, the
men employed at the grave had performed their duty, and
were gazing with mingled astonishment and concern, both
on the body of their murdered officer, and on the dumb
scene acting around them. Two of these were now despatched
for a litter, with which they speedily re-appeared. On
this Charles de Haldimar, already delirious with the
fever of intense excitement, was carefully placed, and,
followed by Captain Blessington and Lieutenant Johnstone,
borne to his apartment in the small range of buildings
constituting the officers' barracks.
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