SHORTLY after I entered the army, I became intimately acquainted with a young officer, a lieutenant in the― regiment of the― volunteers, who, during our stay at―, fell a victim to a disease peculiar to the climate. It was about half-past ten o’clock at night, when I was summoned to witness the death of my companion. Without, the sky was clear; the moon and stars shone brightly; all was still, save as the rustling of the leaves, stirred by the evening air, the occasional hailing of the sentinel, or his heavy tread, fell upon the ear. The apartment in which he lay was one of many.
The wall was covered with paintings of ancient castles and palaces, surrounded by gardens, with distant views of mountain and forest scenery. A cot, on which the sufferer lay, with a small table and one chair, composed the furniture. I approached the couch, and kindly questioned him as to the state of his feelings. He started at the sound of my voice, gazed upon me for a moment, then, with a half vacant stare, and as if talking to himself, he replied, “I must die! ―die! yes, die! No more shall I be permitted to see my home, to converse with those who, far away, so often think of me.” With more energy of voice he continued, “But the past! ―the future! The past has been a scene of hardship and toil―as ambitious striving to be great. Many years have passed since I began to exist, and now I am nothing―a mere vacuum, void of everything save conscience. The future―ah! the terrible future―awaits me! Hope! ― hope is extinct! I am irrevocably lost! a curse to existence, a miserable and degraded wretch! No God! That fatal elusion has ruined me!” His voice failing, he slowly said, “O that I could hide me in the grave! But no. His all-seeing eye penetrates the tomb; justice cries, Prepare to meet your God!” He said no more until the dock of the cemetery, which was across the way and directly in front, struck the hour of eleven.
“What,” said he, “has the clock tolled another hour, and I still exist! Oh, that I never had a being!” Delirium setting in for a moment, “Mother, save me! save your son!” the wretched youth exclaimed, with arms extended wide, as if to grasp her. All was still as death for a moment, while he gazed intently in the direction in which he had pointed. “Come back! come back! But no; she has left me!” Nature being exhausted, he fell back on his couch, from which he had partially arisen, lay for a moment, then slowly articulated, “But God is just.” And when the clock of the old cemetery struck the tour of midnight, he was a corpse.
Soon the muffled drum, and low, plaintive totes of the fife, told that he was carried to his grave.