The eyes really moved, they closed slowly, then they opened again; for one moment a ray of light seemed to light them up, then they grew staring and glassy as before.
Fritz Deyke sank upon his knees.
"Great God in heaven!" he said in a trembling voice; "if Thou wilt never in my whole life hear a prayer from me again, yet help me now to save my poor master!"
He seized his flask, opened the mouth of the wounded man, and poured into it a little brandy.
Then he anxiously awaited the result.
An almost imperceptible shiver passed through the young officer's limbs; his eyes lived for a moment, and looked inquiringly at the young peasant; his lips were slightly parted; a red foam appeared upon them, and a deep sigh heaved his breast.
Then the eyelids closed, and the face lost the horrible starkness of death. But no further sign of life appeared.
"Now to get him to the town!" cried Fritz, raising the young officer in his strong arms and bearing him to his horse.
He climbed with difficulty into the saddle, still holding the motionless form; then he supported it before him with his right hand, whilst he held the bridle with the other.
He rode quickly across the fields to the town.