When he entered, wearing his white surplice, the officers fell on their knees. It seemed to all that the solemn moment had come, after which death must follow undoubtedly. The sick woman had not regained consciousness; therefore the priest could not hear her confession. He only gave her extreme unction; then he began to console the little knight, and to persuade him to yield to the will of God. But there was no effect in that consolation, for no words could reach his pain.
For a whole day death hovered over Basia. Like a spider, which secreted in some gloomy corner of the ceiling crawls out at times to the light, and lets itself down on an unseen web, death seemed at times to come down right there over Basia’s head; and more than once it seemed to those present that his shadow was falling on her forehead, that that bright soul was just opening its wings to fly away out of Hreptyoff, somewhere into endless space, to the other side of life. Then again death, like a spider, hid away under the ceiling, and hope filled their hearts.
But that was merely a partial and temporary hope, for no one dared to think that Basia would survive the attack. Pan Michael himself had no hope of her recovery; and this pain of his became so great that Zagloba, though suffering severely himself, began to be afraid, and to commend him to the care of the officers.
“For God’s sake, look after him!” said the old man; “he may plunge a knife into his body.”
This did not come, indeed, to Pan Michael’s head; but in that rending sorrow and pain he asked himself continually,—
“How am I to stay behind when she goes? How can I let that dearest love go alone? What will she say when she looks around and does not find me near her?”
Thinking thus, he wished with all the powers of his soul to die with her; for as he could not imagine life for himself on earth without her, in like manner he did not understand that she could be happy in that life without him, and not yearn for him. In the afternoon the ill-omened spider hid again in the ceiling. The flush in Basia’s cheeks was quenched, and the fever decreased to a degree that some consciousness came back to her.
She lay for a time with closed eyes, then, opening them, looked into the face of the little knight, and asked,—
“Michael, am I in Hreptyoff?”
“Yes, my love,” answered Volodyovski, closing his teeth.