"Did you speak?" he suddenly asked his neighbour. But the man, bending over his work, did not hear the question. At that moment Gosławski fancied that he was at home: his wife and children are asleep; the lamp, turned low, is burning on the chest of drawers; his bed is ready for him.... Yes, here is the table, there is the chair! Worn out with fatigue, he wants to sit down on the chair; he leans his heavy arm on the edge of the table.... The lathe made a strange noise. Something cracked in it and began to go to pieces, and a dreadful human shriek resounded through the workroom.... Gosławski's right hand had been caught between the cogwheels; in the twinkling of an eye he was hung up as though welded to the machinery, which had got hold first of the fingers, then of the hand, then of the bone up to the elbow: the blood gushed out. The wretched man saw what had happened and tore himself away; the crushed and broken bones and torn muscles were not able to bear the load, they broke, and Gosławski fell heavily to the floor. All this happened within a few seconds. "Stop the engine!" shouted Gosławski's neighbour. The engine was stopped, and all the men left their work and came running up to the wounded man. Someone poured a can of water over him; one young man had a fit when he saw the blood; others ran out of the workshop without knowing why. "Fetch the doctor!" Gosławski cried in a changed voice. "A horse ... hurry up! ... run to the town!" shouted the workmen, as if they were out of their senses. "Oh, the blood, the blood!" groaned the wounded man. The bystanders did not know what he meant. "For God's sake, stop the blood! Tie up my arm!" Nobody moved; they did not know how to stop the blood, and were paralyzed with fright. "What a place this is!" cried the man who had been working next to Gosławski--"no doctor, no bone-setter!... Where is Schmidt? Run for Schmidt!" Some ran for Schmidt. Meanwhile one of the old blacksmiths showed more presence of mind than the others, knelt down, and compressed the arm above the elbow with his hands. The blood began to flow more slowly. It was a terrible injury; part of the arm and two fingers were left, the rest had been torn away. At last, after a quarter of an hour, Schmidt, who took the doctor's place in the factory, appeared. He was just as terrified as the rest, and bandaged the wounded arm with rags, which instantly became soaked with blood. He ordered the men to carry Gosławski home. They laid him on some boards; two men carried him, two supported his head, the rest crowded round, and they all moved away in a body. There was no one in the offices, and no light showed in Adler's house. The dogs, scenting blood, began to howl; the night watchman took off his cap and looked with pale face after the procession moving along the highroad, which was flooded by the moonlight. A factory hand appeared at an open window in his shirt-sleeves, and called out: "Hallo! What's the matter?"