Good Blood Part 5

"We were made to step down into the court of the infirmary; we were to see once more our dead comrade.

"Our steps shuffled with a dull and heavy sound as we were marched over there; no one spoke a word; one heard only a heavy breathing.

"And there lay little L, poor little L!

"In his white little s.h.i.+rt he lay there, his hands folded on his breast, his golden locks curled about his forehead, which was white like wax; the cheeks so sunken that the beautiful, delicate little nose projected quite far--and in his face--the expression--"

The old colonel was silent, the breath came choking from his bosom.

"I have grown to be an old man," he went on falteringly--"I have seen men lying on the field of battle--men on whose faces stood written distress and despair--such heart sorrow as I saw in the face of this child I have never seen before or since--never--never--"

A deep stillness took possession of the wine-room where we were sitting.

As the old colonel became silent and spoke no word more, the waiter rose softly from his corner and lit the gas-jet that hung over our heads; it had grown quite dark.

I took up the wine bottle once more, but it was now almost empty--just one tear still crept slowly out--one last drop of the good blood.