of things, but it was not easy for even such a self-conscious head as Yosef's to reach final results. Besides, he did not know himself whether possible future triumphs were equal in value to Helena. To have near him for all future time a woman so charming and loving was the same as to seize in its flight a winged dream of happiness shooting by, but if besides he knew how many of those coming triumphs would be of tangible value, how many would deceive him, how many faces there were before him, he would not hesitate in the choice. But he had not met deceit yet face to face. Such meditations wearied Yosef. The lamp in the room grew dim, he began to doze. Some sudden knocking above roused him again. "They are not sleeping up there, either," thought he. He remembered the countess and her gladsome smile. "How lightly and calmly such a girl must sleep! But there is some truth in this, that girls are like birds. A man toils and labors and meditates, and they--But that one upstairs is quite a pretty bird. I should like to see her asleep. But it is late now, half-past one, and I--What is that?" He sprang quickly to his feet. A violent pulling at the bell brought him to his senses perfectly. He opened the door, and raising the lamp saw the countess before him. She was as pale as a corpse; she held a candle in one hand, with the other she protected the flame of it. She wore a cap, and a dressing-gown through which her neck and bosom were evident. "Pan Doctor!" cried she, "my father is dying!" Yosef, without saying a word, seized his medicine case, and enjoining on Augustinovich to hurry upstairs with all speed, he ran himself after her. In the first chamber was the small bed of the countess, with the blanket thrown aside, and left just a moment before; in the next room lay the count. He was breathing or rather rattling loudly, for he was unconscious; there was bloody foam on his lips, and his face was livid. In a moment Augustinovich ran in, uncombed and hardly dressed. Both occupied themselves with the sick man without regard to the young girl, who had knelt at the foot of the bed, and was nearly unconscious. All at once Yosef and Augustinovich looked each other in the eyes; both had seen that there was not the least hope. "O my God! my God! Call in some one else, perhaps," burst out the countess, in tears. "Run for Skotnitski," cried Yosef. Augustinovich ran, although he felt certain that on returning with the doctor he would not find the count among the living. Meanwhile Yosef, with all energy and presence of mind, worked at the patient. He bled him; then, looking at the clock, declared that the attack was over. "Thank God! There is hope then?" cried the countess. "The attack is over!" repeated Yosef. Meanwhile Augustinovich came with the doctor.