She went up to him and bent slowly over him, his expressionless eyes startled her, the blue corpse-like colour was spread over his pale thin face, a large gaping wound was seen on his bare breast. The wounded man had died during the journey, he must have expired quite an hour before. Involuntarily she laid her hand upon his brow, it was cold as ice. She was gazing horrified upon this dreadful sight, when animated voices met her ear. She looked up, and saw at a little distance a group of several ladies standing near the litter of a soldier in the Uhlan uniform; the bandage round his head had slipped and with a feeble hand he was endeavouring to replace it. Amongst these ladies stood the lovely and graceful young countess Frankenstein. The deepest compassion shone in her eyes, but it did not banish the brilliant happiness that she felt. With a smile she said: "This uniform must always be first with me, I almost belong to it myself!" and with a light elastic step she went up to the litter, and drawing off her gloves, and throwing back her lace sleeves, she began with her beautiful white hands to arrange the bandage for the wounded man. Over her arms hung a long strip of fine white linen, which she used to retain the bandage in its place until the surgeon should arrive. Antonia Balzer started when she heard this voice; from her dark corner she watched the charming and beautiful young girl as she stood in the strong light with her smiling lips and brilliant eyes. A deadly paleness spread over her face, her complexion grew as ghastly as that of the poor man who lay before her; a burning flash of which no human eyes seemed capable darted from her, wild hatred distorted her lovely features. She gazed for one moment on the charming figure near her, then her face assumed a gloomy, dreadful expression; an indescribable smile appeared on her lips. "Here is death, there is life!" she whispered hoarsely, and bent down over the corpse until her face was hidden, and could be recognized by no one. She took a small pair of scissors with golden handles from her basket, and stooping over the dead man she plunged the points of the scissors deep into the wound upon his breast, then she pressed her fine cambric handkerchief upon it, and saturated it with the bloody fluid that exuded. She sprang up hastily; her face expressed anxious excitement. She hastened to the knot of ladies surrounding Clara Frankenstein, who was still occupied in holding the strip of linen which she had placed around the forehead of the wounded man. "For heaven's sake!" cried Madame Balzer, "give me a strip of linen, a drop of eau de cologne! I have exhausted everything; a poor wounded man is dying!" And hastily approaching Clara she seized her outstretched arm with both hands, as if imploring her for a piece of the linen which hung over it. Clara uttered a cry and hastily drew back her hand. A drop of blood appeared just above her wrist and trickled slowly down her white arm.