The baron looked at his pistols.
"Ha!" he cried, "the caps have been taken off! You may have done me good service, boy. Wait here: it is not enough to escape the rascals; we must capture them!"
He turned his horse, and galloped back at full speed towards the town. Sasha watched him, thinking only that he was saved at last. It was growing dark when the boy's quick ear caught the sound of footsteps in the opposite direction. He turned and saw the three men approaching rapidly. With a deadly sense of terror he started and ran towards the town.
"Kill the little spy!" shouted behind him a voice which he well knew.
Sasha cried aloud for help as he ran, but no help came. He was already weak and exhausted from the exertion he had made, and he heard the robbers coming nearer and nearer. All at once it seemed to him that his cries were answered; but at the same moment a heavy blow came down upon his head and shoulder. He fell to the ground, and knew no more.
CHAPTER IV.
When Sasha came to his senses it seemed to him that he must have been dead for a long time. First of all, he had to think who he was; and this was not so easy as you may suppose, for he found himself lying in bed in a room he had never seen before. It was broad daylight, and the sun shone upon one of his hands, which was so white and thin that it did not seem to belong to him. Then he lifted it, and was amazed to find how little strength there was in his arm. But he brought it to his head at last—and there was another surprise. All his long silken hair was gone! He was so weak and bewildered that he groaned aloud, and the tears ran down his cheeks.
There was a noise in the room, and presently old Gregor, his grandfather, bent over him as he lay in bed.
"Grandfather," said the boy—and how feeble his voice sounded—"am I your Sasha still?"
The old man, crying for joy, dropped on his knees and uttered a short prayer. "Now you will get well!" he cried; "but you mustn't talk; the doctor said you were not to talk."