He was changed beyond recognition. The skin on his face had become wonderfully white, it had grown transparent. From his face came a certain coldness, as from a corpse; a yellowish shade shone from his forehead, which seemed to be of wax. His lips were white; his hair, beard, and mustache looked almost black as compared with that pallor. He was like a man who had passed through a long illness, and on his face had settled certainty concerning himself and a kind of despairing resignation. Yosef, a little astonished, a little confused, did not know perhaps how to begin. Gustav brought him out of the trouble. "I have come to thee with a prayer," said he. "Once thou didst promise not to visit the widow; withdraw that promise." Yosef made a wry face with a kind of constraint. But he only answered,-- "It is not a custom with me to break my word." "True," answered Gustav, calmly; "but this is something entirely different. If I were to die, for example, the promise would not bind thee, and I, as thou seest, am sick, very grievously sick. Meanwhile she needs protection. I cannot protect her now, I cannot watch over her. I must lie down to rest, for I am wearied somewhat. For that matter, I will tell the whole truth to thee. She loves thee, and beyond doubt thou lovest her also. I have stood in thy way and hers, but now I withdraw. I do so perforce, and I shall not represent this as a sacrifice. I loved her much, and I had a little hope that she would love me some day; but I was mistaken." Here his voice fell an octave lower. "No one has ever loved me. It has been very gloomy for me in life--But what is to be done? Of late I have passed through much, but now that is over. To-day my concern is that she be not left alone. Had I been able to decide on a sacrifice, thou wouldst be her protector to-day. Canst thou do this for me, Yosef? Thou hast energy, thou art rich, and she, I say, loves thee, so thou wilt not end as I have. Oh, it has been hard in this world for me--But never mind. I should not like to do her an injury--I love her yet. I should not wish her to be alone because of me. At times, seest thou, it is not proper to refuse people anything. Go, go to her! Thou and I lived together once, we fought the same trouble, hence thou shouldst do me this favor; for, I repeat, I am sick and I know not whether I shall see her or thee again." A tear gathered in Vasilkevich's eye; he rose and said, turning to Yosef,-- "Thou shouldst do all that Gustav asks of thee." "I will go to her, I will protect her," answered Yosef, decidedly. "I give my word of honor to both of you." "I thank thee," said Gustav. "Go there now." A little later he was alone with Vasilkevich. The Lithuanian was silent for some time, he struggled with his own heart; finally he spoke in a voice of heartfelt sympathy,-- "Gustav, poor Gustav, how thou must suffer at this moment!"