Part 30 (2/2)

”Oh--what we have lost!” he murmured, locking her in a long embrace.

”Ian--Ian--my darling!” she sobbed.

This was all; and in broken words, choked with sobs.

The faithful old priest gently separated them at last, for he saw von Senborn was going to do it. He took her to the long window which led into the Countess' favorite room. She was crying bitterly, but without sobs, forcing them down lest she make it yet harder for Ian.

They bandaged his eyes. He refused at first; but the sight of that landscape, familiar in its desolation, dear to him yet, was more than he could bear. Oh, to leave life thus, when others were dying like men!

And how dear was life, despite ruin and war and uncertainty! How many things he had meant to do; how much more happiness he might have had before this cataclysm fell upon them! Then thought turned to his mother.

”I must speak to my chaplain,” he said in the firm voice of a man accustomed to obedience.

”You dare not murder him without shrift,” he heard the priest say. He had left Vanda in the house and was returning hurriedly. A moment later his thin, shaking hand was on Ian's arm.

”Three minutes,” said von Senborn's voice, impatient now. ”Make the most of your time.”

Hastily, the priest gave his quondam pupil what comfort he could. Then Ian whispered:

”Take the women away at once. You may yet reach Warsaw. Then with Mother to Rome. The Cardinal is all she'll have left but Vanda. Don't forget the jewels.”

”Yes, yes. Courage, my boy. Don't worry for us.”

”I have that, thank G.o.d. Good-bye, Father. Get away at once. All of you.”

Von Senborn came up, saying:

”You must leave him now, Father.”

Catching a shade of regret in his voice, Father Constantine pleaded for his dear patron's life, using all the eloquence and arguments he had.

Not unkindly, the Prussian pushed him aside.

”Can't you see you're making it harder for him?” he cried. Then he called up his men, who ranged in front of their victim. Father Constantine said prayers for the pa.s.sing of that beloved soul across the gulf that leads into eternity. Ian listened for his death-order, his back to the wall, determined to show these Prussians he could meet a dog's death like a man.

”Ready!” von Senborn's voice rang out.

”Oh, Mother!” shouted Ian. And this is not strange, because when life is going, a man's thoughts and heart turn to her who gave it him.

The men pointed their muskets. Von Senborn's mouth was open to give the word of command that was to send Ian to the unseen world when his name was called loudly, a few yards away.

”Von Senborn! Quick! Quick!”

With a gesture of annoyance he turned round. The men still pointed their arms; but they did not shoot. Ian, expecting that every leaden-footed second would bring the fatal word, whose nerves were strained almost beyond endurance, thanked G.o.d for Prussian discipline.

He heard footsteps, and hope arose in his heart. Perhaps the Russians were back again. Father Constantine, through his tears, saw another Prussian officer hurrying towards them.

”I've captured a _sotnia_ of Cossacks ... and a ton of copper,” he cried, his voice full of life and triumph. Then he saw Ian.

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