Strona 770 z 896

"'How has this been done, monsieur?' said I.

"'A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw

upon him, and has fallen by my brother's sword--like a

gentleman.'

"There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity, in this

answer. The speaker seemed to acknowledge that it was

inconvenient to have that different order of creature dying

there, and that it would have been better if he had died in the

usual obscure routine of his vermin kind. He was quite incapable

of any compassionate feeling about the boy, or about his fate.

"The boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and

they now slowly moved to me.

"'Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs

are proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us,

kill us; but we have a little pride left, sometimes. She--have

you seen her, Doctor?'

"The shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by

the distance. He referred to them, as if she were lying in our

presence.