its pole was shining out clear in the dark blue sky, and he was still waiting.
"Is n't it getting late?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.
All was calm in the forest; not a bird moved.
"Let us wait a little longer," replied Levin.
"Just as you please."
At this moment they were not fifteen paces apart.
"Stiva," cried Levin, suddenly, "you have not told me whether your sister-in-law is married yet, or whether she is to be married soon."
He felt so calm, his mind was so thoroughly made up, that nothing, he thought, could move him. But what Stepan Arkadyevitch answered was wholly unexpected.
"She is not married, and she is not thinking of marriage. She is very ill, and the doctors have sent her abroad. They even fear for her life."
"What did you say?" cried Levin. "Very ill? What is the matter? How did she...."
While they were talking thus, Laska, with ears erect, was gazing at the sky above her head, and looking at them reproachfully.
"This is not the time to talk," thought Laska. "Ah! Here comes one — there he goes; they will miss him."
At the same instant a sharp whistle pierced the ears of the two huntsmen, and both, leveling their guns, shot at once; the two reports, the two flashes, were simultaneous. The snipe, flying high, folded his wings, drew up his delicate legs, and fell into the thicket.
"Excellent! both together!" cried Levin, running with Laska in search of the game. "Oh, yes! What was it that hurt me so just now? Ah, yes! Kitty is ill," he remembered. "What is to be done about it? It is too bad. — Ah! she has found it! Good dog," said he, taking the bird, still warm, from Laska's mouth, and putting it into his overflowing game-bag.
"Come on, Stiva!" he cried.
