thirsty and dry-lipped that though Mina was bending over him, just fresh
from Mariazell, he had not the heart to kiss her or lift an arm to her!--
His horse was off with him-whither?--He was going down with a company of
infantry in the Gulf of Venice: cards were in his hands, visible, though
he could not feel them, and as the vessel settled for the black plunge,
the cards flushed all honours, and his mother shook her head at him: he
sank, and heard Mina sighing all the length of the water to the bottom,
which grated and gave him two horrid shocks of pain: and he cried for a
doctor, and admitted that his horse had managed to throw him; but wine
was the cure, brandy was the cure, or water, water! Water was sprinkled
on his forehead and put to his lips.

He thanked Vittoria by name, and imagined himself that General, serving
under old Wurmser, of whom the tale is told that being shot and lying
grievously wounded on the harsh Rivoli ground, he obtained the help of a
French officer in as bad case as himself, to moisten his black tongue and
write a short testamentary document with his blood, and for a way of
returning thanks to the Frenchman, he put down among others, the name of
his friendly enemy's widow; whereupon both resigned their hearts to
death; but the Austrian survived to find the sad widow and espouse her.

His mutterings were full of gratitude, showing a vividly transient
impression to what was about him, that vanished in a narrow-headed flight
through clouds into lands of memory. It pained him, he said, that he
could not offer her marriage; but he requested that when his chin was
shaved his moustache should be brushed up out of the way of the clippers,
for he and all his family were conspicuous for the immense amount of life
which they had in them, and his father had lain six-and-thirty hours
bleeding on the field of Wagram, and had yet survived to beget a race as
hearty as himself:--'Old Austria! thou grand old Austria!'