could. In vain
Pechorin kissed her cold lips--it was impossible to bring her to.

"Pechorin mounted; I lifted Bela from the ground and somehow managed to
place her before him on his saddle; he put his arm round her and we rode
back.

"'Look here, Maksim Maksimych,' said Grigori Aleksandrovich, after a few
moments of silence. 'We will never bring her in alive like this.'

"'True!' I said, and we put our horses to a full gallop."

CHAPTER XI

"A CROWD was awaiting us at the fortress gate. Carefully we carried the
wounded girl to Pechorin's quarters, and then we sent for the doctor.
The latter was drunk, but he came, examined the wound, and announced
that she could not live more than a day. He was mistaken, though."

"She recovered?" I asked the staff-captain, seizing him by the arm, and
involuntarily rejoicing.

"No," he replied, "but the doctor was so far mistaken that she lived two
days longer."

"Explain, though, how Kazbich made off with her!"

"It was like this: in spite of Pechorin's prohibition, she went out of
the fortress and down to the river. It was a very hot day, you know, and
she sat on a rock and dipped her feet in the water. Up crept Kazbich,
pounced upon her, silenced her, and dragged her into the bushes. Then
he sprang on his horse and made off. In the meantime she succeeded in
crying out, the sentries took the alarm, fired, but wide of the mark;
and thereupon we arrived on the scene."

"But what did Kazbich want to carry her off for?"

"Good gracious! Why, everyone knows these Circassians are a race of
thieves; they can't keep their hands off anything that is left lying
about! They may not want a thing, but they will steal it, for all that.
Still, you mustn't be too hard on them. And, besides, he had been in
love with her for a long time."

"And Bela died?"

"Yes, she died, but she suffered for a long time, and we were fairly
knocked up with her, I can tell you. About ten o'clock in the evening
she came to herself. We were sitting by her bed. As soon as ever she
opened her eyes she began to call Pechorin.

"'I am here beside you, my janechka' (that is, 'my darling'), he
answered, taking her by the hand.

"'I shall die,' she said.

"We began to comfort her, telling her that the doctor had promised
infallibly to cure her. She shook her little head and turned to the
wall--she did not want to die!...

"At night she became delirious, her head burned, at times a feverish
paroxysm co