He could not cross the courtyard without assistance. Tanaroff and the
scared, trembling orderly almost had to carry him. If there were other
onlookers, Sarudine did not see them. They made up a bed for him on the
sofa and stood there, helpless and irresolute. This irritated him
intensely. At last, recovering himself, the servant fetched some hot
water and a towel, and carefully washed the blood from Sarudine's face
and hands. His master avoided his glance, but in the soldier's eyes
there was nothing malicious or scornful; only such fear and pity as
some kind-hearted old nurse might feel.
"Oh! however did this happen, your Excellency? Oh, dear! Oh, dear! What
have they been doing to him?" he murmured.
"It's no business of yours!" hissed Tanaroff angrily; glancing round
immediately afterwards, in confusion. He went to the window and
mechanically took out a cigarette, but uncertain if, while Sarudine lay
there, he ought to smoke, he hurriedly thrust his cigarette-case into
his pocket.
"Shall I fetch the doctor?" asked the orderly, standing at attention,
and unabashed by the rude answer that he had received.
Tanaroff stretched out his fingers irresolutely.
"I don't know," he said in an altered voice, as he again looked round.
Sarudine had heard these words, and was horrified to think that the
doctor would see his battered face. "I don't want anybody," he
murmured feebly, trying to persuade himself and the others that he was
going to die.
Cleansed now from blood and dirt, his face was no longer horrible to
behold, but called rather for compassion.
From mere animal curiosity Tanaroff hastily glanced at him, and then,
in a moment, looked elsewhere. Almost imperceptible as this movement
had been, Sarudine noticed it with unutterable anguish and despair. He
shut his eyes tighter, and exclaimed, in a broken, tearful voice: "Leave me! Leave me! Oh! Oh!"
Tanaroff glanced again at him. Suddenly a feeling of irritation and
contempt possessed him.
"He's actually going to cry now!" he thought, with a certain malicious
satisfaction.
Sarudine's eyes were closed, and he lay quite still. Tanaroff drummed
lightly on the window-sill with his fingers, twirled his moustache,
looked round first, and then, out of the window, feeling selfishly
eager to get away.
"I can't very well, just yet," he thought. "What a damned bore! Better
wait until he goes to sleep."
Another quarter of an hour passed, and Sarudine appeared to be
restless. To Tanaroff such suspense was intolerable. At last the
sufferer lay motionless.
"Aha! he's asleep," thought Tanaroff, inwardly pleased. "Yes, I'm sure
that he is."