Nobody wept now. The approach of death
had been more grievous, more appalling than its actual advent; and it
seemed strange that so harrowing a scene should have ended so simply
and swiftly. For a few moments they stood beside the bed and looked at
the dead, peaked features, as if they expected something else to
happen. Wishful to rouse within themselves a sense of horror and pity,
they watched Novikoff intently as he closed the dead man's eyes and
crossed his hands on his breast. Then they went out quietly and
cautiously. In the passages lamps were now lighted, and all seemed so
familiar and simple that every one breathed more freely. The priest
went first, tripping along with short steps. Desiring to say a few
words of consolation to the young people, he sighed, and then began
softly:
"Dear, dear! It is very sad. Such a young man, too. Alas! it is plain
that he died unrepentant. But God is merciful, you know--"
"Yes, yes, of course," replied Schafroff, who walked next to him and
wished to be polite.
"Does his family know?" asked the priest.
"I really can't tell you," said Schafroff.
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