Here the little knight sighed, and added,—
“In health, and as soon as possible.”
With that the door squeaked, and a small, pitiful, torn creature, covered with snow, began to pipe plaintively at the threshold:—
“Michael, Michael!”
The little knight sprang up, but he was so astonished at the first moment that he stopped where he stood, as if turned to stone; he opened his arms, began to blink, and stood still.
“Michael!—Azya betrayed—he wanted to carry me away; but I fled, and—save—rescue!”
When she had said this, she tottered and fell as if dead, on the floor; Pan Michael sprang forward, raised her in his arms as if she had been a feather, and cried shrilly,—
“Merciful Christ!”
But her poor head hung without life on his shoulder. Thinking that he held only a corpse in his arms, he began to cry with a ghastly voice,—
“Basia is dead!—dead! Rescue!”