Close at the head of the bed stood
an old man, with his face buried in his hands; the latter
reposing against the wainscoting of the room. He, too,
wept, but his weeping was more audible, more painful,
and accompanied by suffocating sobs. It was the humble,
yet almost paternally attached servant of the defunct--
the veteran Morrison.
Around the bed were grouped nearly all the officers,
standing in attitudes indicative of anxiety and interest,
and gazing mournfully on the placid features of their
ill-fated friend. All, on entering, moved noiselessly
over the rude floor, as though fearful of disturbing the
repose of one who merely slumbered; and the same precaution
was extended to the brief but heartfelt expressions of
sorrow that passed, from one to the other, as they gazed
on all that remained of the gentle De Haldimar. At length
the preparations of the women having been completed, they
retired from the room, leaving one of their number only,
rather out of respect than necessity, to remain by the
corpse. When they were departed, this woman, the wife of
one of Blessington's sergeants, and the same who had been
present at the scene between Ellen Halloway and the
deceased, cut off a large lock of his beautiful hair,
and separating it into small tresses, handed one to each
of the officers.
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