"My Adzia! But do not suppose that we will leave thee thus, desert thee as thou art; and do not say that thou hast no one. Thou hast me, and besides me, my wife, and Svirski, Vaskovski, and the Bigiels. For us thou art not a stranger. I will take thee to Warsaw, I will put thee in the hospital, and we will care for thee, and no attendant will strike thee on the face,--first, because I should break the bones of such a person; secondly, we have Sisters of Charity, and among them is Pani Emilia." Bukatski was silent, and grew pale a little; he was more moved than he wished to show. A shadow passed over his eyes. "Thou art a good fellow," said he, after a prolonged silence. "Thou knowest not what a miracle thou hast worked, for thou hast brought it about that I wish something yet. Yes; I should like wonderfully to go to Warsaw, to be among you all. I should be immensely pleased there." "Here thou must go at once to some hospital, and be under constant care. Svirski must know where the best one is. Yield thyself to me, wilt thou? Let me arrange for thee." "Do what may please thee," answered Bukatski, whom consolation began to enter now, in view of the new plans and the energy of his friend. Pan Stanislav wrote to Svirski and to Vaskovski, and sent out messengers immediately. Half an hour later both appeared, Svirski with a famous local physician. Before mid-day Bukatski found himself in a hospital, in a well-lighted and cheerful chamber. "What a pleasant and warm tone!" said he, looking at the golden color, and the walls and ceiling. "This is nice." Then, turning to Pan Stanislav, he said, "Come to me in the evening, but go now to thy wife." Pan Stanislav took farewell of him, and went out. When he reached home he told Marynia the whole story cautiously, for he did not wish to frighten her with sudden news, giving the idea that he was in a dangerous condition. Marynia begged him to take her to Bukatski, if not in the evening, in the morning early, which he promised to do. They went immediately after lunch, for that day there was no sitting in the studio. But before they arrived, Vaskovski was there, and he did not leave Bukatski for a moment. When the patient had settled himself well in the new bed, the old man told him how once he had thought himself dying, but after confession and receiving the sacraments, he grew better, as if by a miracle. "A well-known method, dear professor," said Bukatski, with a smile; "I divine what thy object is." The professor was as confused as if caught in some evil deed, and crossed his hands. "I will lay a wager that it would help thee," said he. Bukatski answered with a gleam of his former humor, "Very well. In a couple of days I shall convince myself, on the other side of the river, how much it will help me."