However, as Monsieur l'Abbe is here, he had
better help us. We shall be none too many."
Pierre listened, also quite aghast. And when Victorine wished to take the
lamp her trembling hand, with which she had no doubt felt the prostrate
body, was seen to be quite bloody. The sight filled Benedetta with so
much horror that she again began to moan wildly.
"Be quiet, be quiet!" repeated Victorine. "We ought not to make any noise
in going down. I shall take the lamp, because we must at all events be
able to see. 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.
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