"We're safe, dear—they've gone——" he cried.
She turned one look up at him and then, slowly closing her eyes, sank back helpless in his arms.
"Marishka! It has been too much——"
The blood flowed from a slight cut upon her cheek where she had been struck by a piece of flying stone, but he saw that it was not deep. He laid her gently upon the flagging, and ran to the Hall for water. There he found Ena, crouched in a corner, more dead than alive. But he commanded her to come and bring water and brandy, and she obeyed.
Marishka had only fainted and the brandy soon restored her.
"They've gone?" she asked of him.
"Yes, dear. We're quite safe. Listen. The Russians are driving them down the valley."
He washed the wound in her cheek tenderly.
"It will not scar you, Marishka," he smiled. "But if it does—an honorable scar such as no woman of Austria wears."
She touched it with her fingers and smiled.