She was like marble--so cold, and pale, and breathless. I called no one
to my assistance--I was the madman--the desperate, heart-broken
madman--and I saw before me the ruin I had wrought.
How long this lasted I cannot tell; I only know my feelings were worked
to frenzy. I called upon her by name; I conjured her to look at me, to
speak to me once--but once more.
I longed for tears to cool the burning heat of my brain. In my agony, I
laughed and shrieked aloud; I could not control myself.
She opened her eyes, those large, bright, lustrous eyes, and looked, I
thought, kindly on me. How those glances entered my soul!
"Speak to me, Julia, forgive me," I said. She smiled, and extended her
hand. Her eyes were in a moment fixed and glassy. She tried to speak,
when, O God! as her lips separated, the life-blood gushed from her
heart, and the purple stream flowed over her neck and bosom.