“Shall I call him back, or shall I not?”

His heart beat more irregularly. He rang; and the courier entered with quick, nervous footsteps.

“Has Iván Matvéitch gone?”

“No, your Excellency; he is in the office.”

The General’s heart now stopped, now beat quickly. He remembered the warnings of the doctor who had examined him a few days before.

“Above all,” the doctor had said, “if you begin to feel that you have a heart, stop working⁠—divert your mind. There is nothing so bad as agitation. On no account allow yourself to be agitated.”

“Shall I call him, your Excellency?”