“Can I have missed it?” shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch, who could not see for the smoke.

“Here it is!” said Levin, pointing to Laska, who with one ear raised, wagging the end of her shaggy tail, came slowly back as though she would prolong the pleasure, and as it were smiling, brought the dead bird to her master.  “Well, I’m glad you were successful,” said Levin, who, at the same time, had a sense of envy that he had not succeeded in shooting the snipe.

“It was a bad shot from the right barrel,” responded Stepan Arkadyevitch, loading his gun.  “Sh...it’s flying!”

The shrill whistles rapidly following one another were heard again.  Two snipe, playing and chasing one another, and only whistling, not crying, flew straight at the very heads of the sportsmen.  There was the report of four shots, and like swallows the snipe turned swift somersaults in the air and vanished from sight.

The stand-shooting was capital.  Stepan Arkadyevitch shot two more birds and Levin two, of which one was not found.  It began to get dark.  Venus, bright and silvery, shone with her soft light low down in the west behind the birch trees, and high up in the east twinkled the red lights of Arcturus.  Over his head Levin made out the stars of the Great Bear and lost them again.  The snipe had ceased flying; but Levin resolved to stay a little longer, till Venus, which he saw below a branch of birch, should be above it, and the stars of the Great Bear should be perfectly plain.  Venus had risen above the branch, and the ear of the Great Bear with its shaft was now all plainly visible against the dark blue sky, yet still he waited.

“Isn’t it time to go home?” said Stepan Arkadyevitch.

It was quite still now in the copse, and not a bird was stirring.

“Let’s stay a little while,” answered Levin.

“As you like.”

They were standing now about fifteen paces from one another.

“Stiva!” said Levin unexpectedly; “how is it you don’t tell me whether your sister-in-law’s married yet, or when she’s going to be?”

Levin felt so resolute and serene that no answer, he fancied, could affect him.  But he had never dreamed of what Stepan Arkadyevitch replied.

“She’s never thought of being married, and isn’t thinking of it; but she’s very ill, and the doctors have sent her abroad.  They’re positively afraid she may not live.”

“What!” cried Levin.  “Very ill?  What is wrong with her?  How has she...?”

While they were saying this, Laska, with ears pricked up, was looking upwards at the sky, and reproachfully at them.

“They have chosen a time to talk,” she was thinking.  “It’s on the wing....  Here it is, yes, it is.  They’ll miss it,” thought Laska.

But at that very instant both suddenly heard a shrill whistle which, as it were, smote on their ears, and both suddenly seized their guns and two flashes gleamed, and two gangs sounded at the very same instant.  The snipe flying high above instantly folded its wings and fell into a thicket, bending down the delicate shoots.