impatiently a favourable moment. I had not to wait long.
On the morrow, just as I was busy composing an elegy, and I was biting
my pen as I searched for a rhyme, Chvabrine tapped at my window. I laid
down the pen, and I took up my sword and left the house.

"Why delay any longer?" said Chvabrine. "They are not watching us any
more. Let us go to the river-bank; there nobody will interrupt us."

We started in silence, and after having gone down a rugged path we
halted at the water's edge and crossed swords.

Chvabrine was a better swordsman than I was, but I was stronger and
bolder, and M. Beaupre, who had, among other things, been a soldier, had
given me some lessons in fencing, by which I had profited.

Chvabrine did not in the least expect to find in me such a dangerous
foeman. For a long while we could neither of us do the other any harm,
but at last, noticing that Chvabrine was getting tired, I vigorously
attacked him, and almost forced him backwards into the river.

Suddenly I heard my own name called in a loud voice. I quickly turned my
head, and saw Saveliitch running towards me down the path. At this
moment I felt a sharp prick in the chest, under the right shoulder, and
I fell senseless.

CHAPTER V.

LOVE.

When I came to myself I remained some time without understanding what
had befallen me, nor where I chanced to be. I was in bed in an
unfamiliar room, and I felt very weak indeed. Saveliitch was standing by
me, a light in his hand. Someone was unrolling with care the bandages
round my shoulder and chest. Little by little my ideas grew clearer. I
recollected my duel and guessed without any difficulty that I had been
wounded. At this moment the door creaked slightly on its hinges.

"Well, how is he getting on?" whispered a voice which thrilled through
me.

"Always the same still," replied Saveliitch, sighing; "always
unconscious, as he has now been these four days."

I wished to turn, but I had not strength to do so.

"Where am I? Who is there?" I said, with difficulty. Marya Ivanofna came
near to my bed and leaned gently over me.

"How do you feel?" she said to me.

"All right, thank God!" I replied in a weak voice. "It is you, Marya
Ivanofna; tell me--"

I could not finish. Saveliitch exclaimed, joy painted on his face--

"He is coming to himself!--he is coming to himself! Oh! thanks be to
heaven! My father Petr' Andrejitch, have you frightened me enough? Four
days! That seems litt