“Silence!” said the surgeon, who accompanied the sad little procession.  “Control yourself, the prince is badly wounded.”

“I see that,” said the old man, huskily.  “But his wound is not mortal?  Tell me it’s not mortal!”

He glanced up at the physician with a look of such despair, that the latter had not the heart to tell him the truth.  He turned to the two officers who had followed Stadinger, and answered their questions instead.

“A bullet in the breast,” he said in a whisper.  “The prince desired to be brought to his own quarters, and we have been as careful as we could, but the end is nearer than I thought.”

“No hope then?” asked Walldorf.

“Not the slightest.”

The men were already lifting their burden to carry him into the house, when the physician motioned them to put him down.

“Wait!  The prince wants to speak to his old servant, I think.  A few minutes here or there doesn’t matter now.”

Stadinger saw and heard nothing of what was going on around him, he saw only his master.  Egon appeared to be unconscious; the blonde hair was thrown back, the eyes were closed, and under the mantle with which the man had covered him was the blood-soaked uniform.

“Your highness!” said the old man in low, heart-rending tones.  “Look at me, speak to me!  It is your old Stadinger.”

The well-known voice found its way to the dying man’s ear; he opened his eyes slowly, and a faint smile crossed his face as he recognized his faithful servant.

“My old ghost of the woods,” he said softly; “and you are with me at the last.”

“But you’ll not die, your highness,” murmured Stadinger.  His whole body was in a tremble, but he never took his eyes from his adored master.  “No, you will not die, you will not die .’”

“Do you think it is so hard?” said Egon quietly.  “Yesterday you were quite right, a burden was on my heart, now it is light.  Take a greeting to dear Rodeck, and the forest, and to the lady of Ostwalden.”

“To whom?  To Frau von Wallmoden?” asked Stadinger, thinking he had not heard aright.

“Yes, tell her I send her my last greeting; she must think of me sometimes.”

The words came slowly, brokenly, from the lips which would so soon refuse to do further service, but there was no mistaking their full significance.  Eugen was startled when he heard his sister’s name, and bent over the dying man, who looked into the countenance which so resembled Adelheid’s, and again a smile lighted his face.  Then he raised his head and laid it heavily on the breast of his old ghost of the woods, and the sunny blue eyes closed forever.

It was a short, painless battle with death, a peaceful falling to sleep.  Stadinger hardly breathed while life remained in the body of him he had nursed as a babe and cherished as a man, but was to lose forever now.  When all was over the old man lost control of himself, and threw himself in despair on the body of his beloved master, and sobbed like a child.