He dressed, and when he had ordered his carriage, since it was too early for izvoshchiks, he flew up to her room again, not on tiptoes, but on wings, as it seemed to him. Two maids were busily engaged in moving something in the room. Kitty was walking up and down, knitting swiftly, slipping the knots, and giving directions.
"I'm going for the doctor immediately. Lizavyeta Petrovna has been sent for, but I will call there. There's nothing more, is there? Oh, yes,—Dolly."
She looked at him, evidently without hearing what he said. "Yes, yes, go," said she, and motioned to him with her hand. He was just passing through the drawing-room, when he heard a groan, pitiful, but instantly suppressed. He stood still, and could not make up his mind.
"It is she," he said to himself; and, putting his hands to his head, he rushed out.
"Lord have mercy on us! pardon us! save us!" he exclaimed; and these words, which suddenly and unexpectedly came to his lips, were not spoken merely by his lips, unbeliever though he was.
Now at this instant, he knew perfectly well that all his doubts and the impossibility which his reason found in belief, had not the slightest influence to prevent him from addressing himself to God. Everything of this sort now vanished like dust from his soul. To whom could he address himself if not to Him in whose hands he felt were held himself, and his soul, and his love?
The horse was not yet ready, but, feeling the special strain of physical powers unemployed, and of the work before him calling for his attention, he started on foot so as not to lose a single instant, and ordered Kuzma to follow him. At the corner of the street he met a night izvoshchik hurrying along. In the little sledge sat Lizavyeta Petrovna, in a velvet cloak, with her head wrapped up in a kerchief. "Thank God!"[1] he murmured, as he saw with joy her pale little face, which had a peculiarly serious, and even stern, expression. Not
- ↑ Slava Bohu.
