He suddenly shuddered.

"Ah! here it comes... Take... each other's hands... before me...
quickly... take..."

Solomin seized Mariana's hand. Her head lay on the couch, face
downwards, close to the wound. Solomin, dark as night, held himself
severely erect.

"That's right... that's..."

Nejdanov broke out into sobs again--strange unusual sobs... His breast
rose, his sides heaved.

He tried to lay his hand on their united ones, but it fell back dead.

"He is passing away," Tatiana whispered as she stood at the door, and
began crossing herself.

His sobs grew briefer, fewer... He still searched around for Mariana
with his eyes, but a menacing white film was spreading over them.

"That's right," were his last words.

He had breathed his last... and the clasped hands of Mariana and Solomin
still lay upon his breast.

The following are the contents of the two letters he had left. One
consisting only of a few lines, was addressed to Silin:

"Goodbye, my dear friend, goodbye! When this reaches you, I shall be no
more. Don't ask why or wherefore, and don't grieve; be sure that I
am better off now. Take up our immortal Pushkin and read over the
description of the death of Lensky in 'Yevgenia Onegin.' Do you
remember? The windows are white-washed. The mistress has gone--that's
all. There is nothing more for me to say. Were I to say all I wanted to,
it would take up too much time. But I could not leave this world without
telling you, or you might have gone on thinking of me as living and I
should have put a stain upon our friendship. Goodbye; live well.--Your
friend, A. N."

The other letter, somewhat longer, was addressed to Solomin and Mariana.
It began thus:

"MY DEAR CHILDREN" (immediately after these words there was a break, as
if something had been scratched or smeared out, as if tears had fallen
upon it),--"It may seem strange to you that I should address you in this
way--I am almost a child myself and you, Solomin, are older than I am.
But I am about to die--and standing as I do at the end of my life, I
look upon myself as an old man. I have wronged you both, especially you,
Mariana, by causing you so much grief and pain (I know you will grieve,
Mariana) and giving you so much anxiety. But what could I do? I could
think of no other way out. I could not simplify myself, so the only
thing left for me to do was to blot myself out altogether.

"Mariana, I would have been a burden to you and to myself. You are