die. I love life—I love this grass, this earth, this air. …” He thought this, and at the same time remembered that people were looking at him.
“It’s shameful, sir!” he said to the adjutant. “What …”
He did not finish speaking. At one and the same moment came the sound of an explosion, a whistle of splinters as from a breaking window frame, a suffocating smell of powder, and Prince Andréy started to one side, raising his arm, and fell on his chest.
Several officers ran up to him. From the right side of his abdomen, blood was welling out making a large stain on the grass.
The militiamen with stretchers who were called up stood behind the officers. Prince Andréy lay on his chest with his face in the grass, breathing heavily and noisily.
“What are you waiting for? Come along!”