But the odour was, he thought, unmistakable, and so powerful
that already he felt as if the liquor were racing through his own
veins. He touched it to his lips; it was like a full draught of some
marvelous elixir. Sudden confidence sat upon St. George, and
thanking his guiding stars for the fortunate chance, he
unhesitatingly set the flask to the old man's lips.
There was a long-drawn, shuddering breath, a fluttering of the
eyelids, a movement of the limbs, and after that old Malakh lay
quite still upon the stones. Once more St. George thrust his hand
within the bosom of the loose robe, and the heart was beating
rapidly and regularly and with amazing force. In a moment deep
breaths succeeded one another, filling the breast of the unconscious
man; but the eyelids did not unclose, and St. George took up the
taper and bent to scan the quiet face.
St. George looked, and sank to his knees and looked again, holding
the light now here, now there, and peering in growing bewilderment.
What he saw he was wholly unable to define.
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