fisherman had scared it, it seemed, for it flew noiselessly with
uncertain course, as though seeking a spot where it could alight.
'Come, if it flies here,' thought Elena, 'it will be a good omen.'
. . . The sea-gull flew round in a circle, folded its wings, and, as
though it had been shot, dropped with a plaintive cry in the distance
behind a dark ship. Elena shuddered; then she was ashamed of having
shuddered, and, without undressing, she lay down on the bed beside
Insarov, who was breathing quickly and heavily.





XXXIV


Insarov waked late with a dull pain in his head, and a feeling, as he
expressed it, of disgusting weakness all over. He got up however.

'Renditch has not come?' was his first question.

'Not yet,' answered Elena, and she handed him the latest number of the
_Osservatore Triestino_, in which there was much upon the war, the Slav
Provinces, and the Principalities. Insarov began reading it; she
busied herself in getting some coffee ready for him. Some one knocked
at the door.

'Renditch,' both thought at once, but a voice said in Russian, 'May I
come in?' Elena and Insarov looked at each other in astonishment; and
without waiting for an answer, an elegantly dressed young man entered