"What is this!" cried Augustinovich.
Helena seized him convulsively by the hands; she felt that his whole body trembled.
"Do not torture me!" whispered the sick man, with a hoarse, broken voice. "Thou hast killed Gustav, and now thou wouldst kill me. Away! I do not love thee! Be off!"
Again he fell on the bed.
"Lula, my Lula, save me!" whispered Yosef.
Augustinovich almost by force conducted Helena from the chamber. In the corridor was heard for a while quick conversation, and the name of the countess was repeated. At last Augustinovich returned alone.
He was pale, great drops of sweat were flowing down his forehead.
"Everything is ended now," said he, in a whisper.
Helena ran driven by despair. Yosef's words and the brief conversation with Augustinovich had cleared as with a bloody lightning-flash many circumstances which had been dark to her. She ran with the single object of going straight forward. Her thoughts were burning her like fire, or rather they were thoughts no longer, they were a circle of fire sparks driven around madly by a whirlwind.
