‘Salve Regina,’ seemingly coming from afar, perhaps from some of the adjoining rooms.
No one spoke a word as long as the singing lasted. Even after the singing ceased, and a dead stillness filled the hall again, no one moved or stirred. Doubtless, for the moment there was no one in the hall, except myself, who was conscious that all this was nothing more than an original opening of an escamoteur’s performance.
The archbishop rose first of all; evidently he was the most impatient. But at the same moment the lid of the coffin flew up with a din, and remained hanging inthe air between the floor and the ceiling, just as they say the lid is hovering above Mohammed’s coffin.
In the uncovered coffin I saw a dead body in the uniform of a military officer. Standing too far off, however, I could not distinctly see the features of the face.
The hall was still buried in silence.
First, after several minutes, one of the guests arose at the table where the physicians and men of science were seated. I at once recognized the expressive face of Dr. Sperlich, of Smíchov.
“Let us examine the corpse!” he said, and walked briskly to the catafalque. His colleagues followed. Then the engineers and the architects arose, then others,—the philosophers and the divines were the last. In a few moments the catafalque was surrounded by nearly all the guests. Only a few of the physicians stood close to the coffin; all the others looked on from a safe distance, hence it was not difficult for me to get near. Standing at the head of the corpse, I fastened my eyes upon the pale, set face. It was the same face which I had seen at Nechanice after the battle of Königgrätz. Its likeness to the face of my friend was so striking that after looking awhile at the cold features, I could not help believing that I saw the dead body of my friend.
(To be continued.)
