The reply came from Aubertin. "My poor friends," said he, solemnly,
"this is one of those fearful things that you have not seen in your
short lives, but it has been more than once my lot to witness it. The
ships that carry letters from distant countries vary greatly in speed,
and are subject to detaining accidents. Yes, this is the third time I
have seen a letter come written by a hand known to be cold. The baroness
is a little excited to-day, I don't know from what cause. With your
approbation, Madame Raynal, I will read this letter before I let her see
it."
"Read it, if you please."
"Shall I read it out?"
"Certainly. There may be some wish expressed in it; oh, I hope there
is!"
Camille, from delicacy, retired to some little distance, and the doctor
read the letter in a low and solemn voice.
"MY DEAR MOTHER,--I hope all are well at Beaurepaire, as I am, or I hope
soon to be. I received a wound in our last skirmish; not a very severe
one; but it put an end to my writing for some time."
"Poor fellow! it was his death wound. Why, when was this written?--why,"
and the doctor paused, and seemed stupefied: "why, my dears, has my
memory gone, or"--and again he looked eagerly at the letter--"what was
the date of the battle in which he was killed? for this letter is dated
the 15th of May.
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