Now, quick, quick!" Across the porch, just at the entrance of the vestibule, Dario lay prone upon the slabs, as if, after being stabbed in the street, he had only had sufficient strength to take a few steps before falling.

And he had just fainted, and lay there with his face very pale, his lips compressed, and his eyes closed.

Benedetta, recovering the energy of her race amidst her excessive grief, no longer lamented or cried out, but gazed at him with wild, tearless, dilated eyes, as though unable to understand.

The horror of it all was the suddenness and mysteriousness of the catastrophe, the why and wherefore of this murderous attempt amidst the silence of the old deserted palace, black with the shades of night.

The wound had as yet bled but little, for only the Prince's clothes were stained.
"Quick, quick!" repeated Victorine in an undertone after lowering the lamp and moving it around.