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The stick dropped from his hands. He stooped, knelt, down, and in both hands lifted Azorka¡¯s head. The poor dog was dead. Unnoticed it had died at its master¡¯s feet from old age, and perhaps from hunger too. The old man looked at it for a minute as though struck, as though he did not understand that Azorka was dead; then bent down gently to his old servant and friend and pressed his pale cheek to the dead face of the dog. A minute of silence passed. We were all touched. At last the poor fellow got up. He was very pale and trembled as though he were in a fever.
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