Then what were left of the besiegers came panting round the barricade, and stumbled on the two bodies, and kicked them and cursed them. Pavlof sat up. Palma lay still. By Lieutenant Tschak's orders one of his men kicked some planks out of the side of the teléga, and started a fire for the purpose of ascertaining casualties. He swore roundly as the bodies were dragged up one by one and laid in a line. Six of his men lay there dead or wounded. Blok was dead. Rimof was dead. By the crackling flames Pavlof endeavoured to find out if Palma was dead. There was a hole in his breast from which the blood was welling, but he groaned as Pavlof attempted to staunch it with his handkerchief. "Dead?" growled Lieutenant Tschak, looking down at them. "Wounded here," said Pavlof, pointing to the hole, "but he lives still," and went on with his bandaging. "The worse for him," said Lieutenant Tschak. Then Hope stole silently into the circle of light, her white face pinched and drawn with her fears. She saw Pavlof, she saw whose body he was bending over, and she ran to them with a cry. "Is he dead?" she asked breathlessly. "Not dead, Hope, but sorely wounded, I fear." She had held herself with a tight hand till now, but at sight of those stark bodies, and of this one, she broke down and sobbed convulsively. Serge opened his eyes and looked up at her in a dazed way. Then his glance wandered to Pavlof and rested meditatively on him for a moment. Then it passed on to the coppery glow of the firelight on the rocky walls, and his brow puckered as though he were trying hard to recollect all that had passed. Pavlof saw his lips move and bent over him. "Failed," he murmured faintly. "No man could have done more, Serge. We are very grateful." "More harm than good. Sorry!" "Does it pain you?" "Yes----I'm done----What will you do?" "We are in God's hands," said Hope gently, and sank down beside him and drew his head on to her lap. The shadow of a smile trembled on his lips, and there was a flickering spark in his eyes as he looked up at her. "God keep you, dear," he said, very softly, and turned his eyes on Pavlof again, and said, "And you." A great pity for him filled Hope's heart. She bent down and kissed his forehead and he lay still. And presently, as they watched him, he sighed gently, and stretched himself out like a weary man. Hope bent over him weeping. She thought he was dead. Pavlof stood up. "He will die if you move him," he said to Lieutenant Tschak. "So! He will have to be moved all the same," said Tschak. "Where are your horses?" "Up the road," and having done all he could for Palma, he turned to the others and examined their wounds, and showed their comrades how to bind them up till better could be done for them. And presently, the stolid-faced drivers came slowly down with the horses, and led them stolidly past the row of dead bodies, and harnessed them to their respective vehicles.