look of his eyes slowly changed into a more conscious, life-like expression. He fixed them on Jenny, and began to breathe regularly.
“Where do you feel hurt?” asked Jenny , in the sweetest tone of sympathy.
The baron did not answer, but moved his right hand, as if groping for something. Jenny took that hand in hers and pressed it. The painful expression of his face changed for a moment into a happy smile, but came back again and remained fixed there.
“Where are you hurt?” asked Jenny the second time.
The baron saw that his sister was near, and kept silent. Only when she moved a few steps away, he said in a voice that was hardly audible, “In my heart!”
Jenny made no answer, but did not turn her eyes away from his. They met, and in that look their souls went out to each other; their hearts were interchanged!
“Did he speak?” asked the baroness.
“Yes, he did. But his mind is wandering; he is not in his senses.”
The baroness went once more to the sluice.
As soon as she was out of hearing he said, “I am not out of my senses; I did not speak in delirium. What I said, is true—only too true!”
Jenny did not answer immediately, but when the baroness came back she said—
“One of us must go to the village for the doctor, and or a carriage”—the baron pressed her hand—“shall I go so, or would you rather go yourself, baroness?”
The baroness shivered all over. To be alone for half an hour with a man who seemed almost dead, even though he was her own brother, appeared dreadful to her. Her sisterly love and sympathy were weaker than the
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