Outside there was incessant running to and fro; shouting, ordering, rolling of cartwheels, and stamping of horses, echoed through the night. A company of infantry had been summoned from the neighbouring town, because they had to deal with the most dangerous traders of the East Prussian forests, who thoroughly understood the little frontier struggles, and amongst whom were several reckless axe-bearers and dreaded shots. It was late when one more conveyance arrived, from out of which a groaning man was lifted; he had been found upon the bank in the swamps, where he had sought to conceal himself in the wild profusion of overgrowth. "He will not live much longer," said the host, returning, after having gleaned the information outside, "but, besides the room which I have given up to you, there is not an empty spot in the house." "I will gladly resign it," replied Blanden. "I shall not be able to sleep any more; put the unhappy man in my room." Accompanied by two Cossacks, the wounded man was carried into the parlour where the landlord told him he could be accommodated in the upper room, which this gentleman had relinquished to him. Out of a cloak which concealed the rest of his face two great glowing eyes fixed themselves upon Blanden. A sudden quiver passed through the wounded man. He was carried out and up the stairs. "Who is the man?" asked Blanden. "So far as I can hear," said the host, "he is a dealer, who, in transporting his goods--whether from greediness and anxiety, whether from delight in such adventures--does not leave the matter to competent professional smugglers, but assumes the management himself. Certainly, this time it is a great expedition, which might have entirely provided a princely ball at Warsaw with jewels and silk. He has fared ill to-day! He defended himself and fired a revolver, but was mortally wounded." The servant of the house then entered and begged Blanden to go to the wounded man, who urgently requested it. "The poor man will not part from life without thanking me," said Blanden. He went up the stairs and entered a room meagrely lighted with a feeble oil lamp. Against the wall stood a wretched bedstead, upon which lay a straw mattress. At the head of the bed sat a Cossack, his lance in his hand. "Make room, good fellow," said the wounded man's voice, "let the gentleman come to me! You can stand on guard as well as sit. I am no longer dangerous." He had spoken Russian. The Cossack drew back while Blanden went up to the bed, but his sensation of pity suddenly gave place to one of astonishment, when, in the man doomed to die, he recognised the amber merchant. "Signor Baluzzi!" cried he shocked, for he suddenly recollected that this man stood in some mysterious relation to Giulia.