Staggering a few uneven steps towards us, he stumbled. The glass fell from his nerveless fingers, and was shattered. We sat speechless in surprise and alarm. His face became blanched in a moment, and he passed his hand across his agonised brow. “Ah!—Heaven!” he gasped with great effort. “You fellows—my wine!—can’t you see?—I—I’m poisoned!” With one accord we sprang to our feet and rushed towards him, but before we could stretch forth our hands he had staggered forward with a loud cry and fallen heavily upon the gravel. Our endeavours to raise him were useless. “Let me alone!” he shouted hoarsely. “The poison—was put into my glass—through the trellis! You cannot save me. Ah! I—I’m dying! The cowards have killed me!” I knelt and raised his head upon my arm. “Don’t touch me!” he cried. “Can’t you let me die?” Writhing in paroxysms of intense pain, his face livid, his body horribly distorted, he ground his teeth and foamed at the mouth. The sight was awful; yet we were utterly powerless. A violent trembling suddenly shook his whole frame, and his palsied limbs stretched themselves out rigidly in the final struggle for existence. Then he gasped. The breath left his body, and he lay pale and motionless under the starlight. Ivan Liustig was dead! So quickly had all this happened, that scarcely any one had been attracted. As we lifted the body and carried it tenderly into the restaurant the strains of the “_Boje Zara chrani_,” floating over the lake, formed a jarring, incongruous dirge to our silent, sorrowful _cortège_. A doctor was quickly procured, but as soon as he touched him he removed his hat respectfully, and pronounced him beyond human aid. I handed him the pieces of broken glass which I had picked from the gravelled walk. He smelt them, and finding a drop of wine remaining, dipped the tip of his little finger into it, and placed it upon his tongue. “Strychnine,” he remarked. “Without a doubt.” Reverently they covered the body with a tablecloth, and it was subsequently conveyed away. It is unnecessary to refer in detail to the events that immediately followed. That Ivan had been murdered in the most cowardly and secret manner possible was plain, but the identity of the person who had placed the poison in the glass from the opposite side of the trellis was a mystery. The police quickly apprehended the _dvornik’s_ son and daughter, both of whom were submitted to a searching cross-examination. There was such an utter absence of motive, however, and so plain and straightforward were their answers, that the officials were quickly convinced of their innocence. But I had my own suspicions. Later that night I took a _drosky_ to the Vosseressenski quarter and sought the dead man’s idol, intending to break the news to her, and closely observe the manner in which she received it.