Next, quite close at hand but without the gates, there arose the ear-curdling cry of a woman in agony, which on the instant seemed to be echoed from every quarter, till the air was full of wailing.
"Oh, Seti! Seti!" exclaimed Merapi, in a voice that was rather a hiss than a whisper, "look at your son!" We sprang to where the babe lay, and looked.

He had awakened and was staring upward with wide-opened eyes and frozen face.

The fear, if such it were, passed from his features, though still he stared.

He rose to his little feet, always looking upwards.

Then a smile came upon his face, a most beautiful smile; he stretched out his arms, as though to clasp one who bent down towards him, and fell backwards--quite dead.
Seti stood still as a statue; we all stood still, even Merapi.