She follows him across the hall, up the mud-covered stairs, to Mascha's room.
"Leave me alone with her," she begs.
And he leaves her alone; meanwhile walks up and down the corridor. Sometimes he stops and listens. At first he hears nothing but a soft, coaxing, persuasive voice; then a sharp, involuntary cry--another----
"She will not speak, why torture her so?" he says to himself. He turns the knob of the door. Then he hears violent weeping, opens the door, sees Nita sitting on the low bed and holding the head of the sobbing child in her lap. She motions to him to withdraw; he does it. He stands before the door and listens as one listens for the heart-beats of a person to convince one's self whether he still lives. He can hear nothing plainly, but still he listens. At first he hears nothing but the same pitiful sobs, hears a calm, caressing voice, soft, sad, compassionate. Now she is silent; he hears hoarse, unrecognizable sounds. Is that Mascha's voice? How long she speaks--at first in short, broken sentences, then fluently; if he could only understand a word of what she says! He still listens--nothing more. Now it is Nita again who speaks, then follows a long pause, a hearty kiss, and Nita comes out in the corridor to him, very tearful, very pale.
"Well, did she confess to you?" asks Lensky, anxiously.
"Yes, but I must swear to her not to betray anything to you. Do not ask, do not torment the child. To-day is Wednesday; next Monday you shall hear from me. Until then she has promised me to make no new attempt to take her life. She will keep her word."
Herewith Nita turns to go. Suddenly she hesitates, turns once more to him: "I will only tell you it was a misfortune, it was very little her fault. I am astonished at the magnanimity which is betrayed in every word of her confession."
"It is very noble of you to think of telling me that," murmured he. "I know it was not her fault, it is only I who am to blame. That does not make the affair better."
"I hope for a good result," murmured Nita embarrassedly.
"I do not," said he, harshly; then detaining her, he adds: "But it was good in you to come. The others have run away, all, as if the pest had broken out in the house; and you, you have come--you! I thank you!"