CELEBRATED CRIMES, COMPLETE

BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS, PERE

IN EIGHT VOLUMES

VANINKA

About the end of the reign of the Emperor Paul I--that is to say, towards the middle of the first year of the nineteenth century--just asfour o'clock in the afternoon was sounding from the church of St. Peterand St. Paul, whose gilded vane overlooks the ramparts of the fortress, a crowd, composed of all sorts and conditions of people, began togather in front of a house which belonged to General Count Tchermayloff, formerly military governor of a fair-sized town in the government ofPultava. The first spectators had been attracted by the preparationswhich they saw had been made in the middle of the courtyard foradministering torture with the knout. One of the general's serfs, he whoacted as barber, was to be the victim. 

Although this kind of punishment was a common enough sight in St. Petersburg, it nevertheless attracted all passers-by when it waspublicly administered. This was the occurrence which had caused a crowd, as just mentioned, before General Tchermayloff's house. 

The spectators, even had they been in a hurry, would have had no causeto complain of being kept waiting, for at half-past four a young man ofabout five-and-twenty, in the handsome uniform of an aide-de-camp, hisbreast covered with decorations, appeared on the steps at the fartherend of the court-yard in front of the house. These steps faced the largegateway, and led to the general's apartments. 

Arrived on the steps, the young aide-de-camp stopped a moment and fixedhis eyes on a window, the closely drawn curtains of which did not allowhim the least chance of satisfying his curiosity, whatever may have beenits cause. Seeing that it was useless and that he was only wasting timein gazing in that direction, he made a sign to a bearded man who wasstanding near a door which led to the servants' quarters. The door wasimmediately opened, and the culprit was seen advancing in the middle ofa body of serfs and followed by the executioner. The serfs were forcedto attend the spectacle, that it might serve as an example to them. Theculprit was the general's barber, as we have said, and the executionerwas merely the coachman, who, being used to the handling of a whip, wasraised or degraded, which you will, to the office of executioner everytime punishment with the knout was ordered. This duty did not deprivehim of either the esteem or even the friendship of his comrades, forthey well knew that it was his arm alone that punished them and that hisheart was not in his work. As Ivan's arm as well as the rest of his bodywas the property of the general, and the latter could do as he pleasedwith it, no one was astonished that it should be used for this purpose. More than that, correction administered by Ivan was nearly alwaysgentler than that meted out by another; for it often happened that Ivan, who was a good-natured fellow, juggled away one or two strokes ofthe knout in a dozen, or if he were forced by those assisting at thepunishment to keep a strict calculation, he manoeuvred so that the tipof the lash struck the deal plank on which the culprit was lying, thustaking much of the sting out of the stroke. Accordingly, when it wasIvan's turn to be stretched upon the fatal plank and to receive thecorrection he was in the habit of administering, on his own account, those who momentarily played his part as executioner adopted the sameexpedients, remembering only the strokes spared and not the strokesreceived. This exchange of mutual benefits, therefore, was productiveof an excellent understanding between Ivan and his comrades, which wasnever so firmly knit as at the moment when a fresh execution was aboutto take place. It is true that the first hour after the punishment wasgenerally so full of suffering that the knouted was sometimes unjust tothe knouter, but this feeling seldom out-lasted the evening, and it wasrare when it held out after the first glass of spirits that the operatordrank to the health of his patient. 

The serf upon whom Ivan was about to exercise his dexterity was a manof five or six-and-thirty, red of hair and beard, a little above averageheight. His Greek origin might be traced in his countenance, which evenin its expression of terror had preserved its habitual characteristicsof craft and cunning. 

When he arrived at the spot where the punishment was to take place, theculprit stopped and looked up at the window which had already claimedthe young aide-de-camp's attention; it still remained shut. With aglance round the throng which obstructed the entrance leading to thestreet, he ended by gazing, with a horror-stricken shudder upon theplank on which he was to be stretched. The shudder did not escape hisfriend Ivan, who, approaching to remove the striped shirt that coveredhis shoulders, took the opportunity to whisper under his breath--

"Come, Gregory, take courage!"

"You remember your promise?" replied the culprit, with an indefinableexpression of entreaty. 

"Not for the first lashes, Gregory; do not count on that, for duringthe first strokes the aide-de-camp will be watching; but among the laterones be assured I will find means of cheating him of some of them. "

"Beyond everything you will take care of the tip of the lash?"

"I will do my best, Gregory, I will do my best. Do you not know that Iwill?"

"Alas! yes, " replied Gregory. 

"Now, then!" said the aide-de-camp. 

"We are ready, noble sir, " replied Ivan. 

"Wait, wait one moment, your high origin, " cried poor Gregory, addressing the young captain as though he had been a colonel, "VacheVousso Korodie, " in order to flatter him. "I believe that the ladyVaninka's window is about to open!"

The young captain glanced eagerly towards the spot which had alreadyseveral times claimed his attention, but not a fold of the silkencurtains, which could be seen through the panes of the window, hadmoved. 

"You are mistaken, you rascal, " said the aide-de-camp, unwillinglyremoving his eyes from the window, as though he also had hoped to see itopen, "you are mistaken; and besides, what has your noble mistress to dowith all this?"

"Pardon, your excellency, " continued Gregory, gratifying theaide-de-camp with yet higher rank, --"pardon, but it is through herorders I am about to suffer. Perhaps she might have pity upon a wretchedservant!"

"Enough, enough; let us proceed, " said the captain in an odd voice, asthough he regretted as well as the culprit that Vaninka had not shownmercy. 

"Immediately, immediately, noble sir, " said Ivan; then turning toGregory, he continued, "Come, comrade; the time has come. "

Gregory sighed heavily, threw a last look up at the window, and seeingthat everything remained the same there, he mustered up resolutionenough to lie down on the fatal plank. At the same time two other serfs, chosen by Ivan for assistants, took him by the arms and attached hiswrists to two stakes, one at either side of him, so that it appeared asthough he were stretched on a cross. Then they clamped his neck intoan iron collar, and seeing that all was in readiness and that no signfavourable to the culprit had been made from the still closely shutwindow, the young aide-de-camp beckoned with his hand, saying, "Now, then, begin!"

"Patience, my lord, patience, " said Ivan, still delaying the whipping, in the hope that some sign might yet be made from the inexorable window. "I have a knot in my knout, and if I leave it Gregory will have goodright to complain. "

The instrument with which the executioner was busying himself, and whichis perhaps unknown to our readers, was a species of whip, with a handleabout two feet long. A plaited leather thong, about four feet long andtwo inches broad, was attached to this handle, this thong terminatingin an iron or copper ring, and to this another band of leather wasfastened, two feet long, and at the beginning about one and a halfinches thick: this gradually became thinner, till it ended in a point. The thong was steeped in milk and then dried in the sun, and on accountof this method of preparation its edge became as keen and cutting as aknife; further, the thong was generally changed at every sixth stroke, because contact with blood softened it. 

However unwillingly and clumsily Ivan set about untying the knot, ithad to come undone at last. Besides, the bystanders were beginning togrumble, and their muttering disturbed the reverie into which the youngaide-de-camp had fallen. He raised his head, which had been sunk on hisbreast, and cast a last look towards the window; then with a peremptorysign; and in a voice which admitted of no delay, he ordered theexecution to proceed. 

Nothing could put it off any longer: Ivan was obliged to obey, and hedid not attempt to find any new pretext for delay. He drew back twopaces, and with a spring he returned to his place, and standing ontiptoe, he whirled the knout above his head, and then letting itsuddenly fall, he struck Gregory with such dexterity that the lashwrapped itself thrice round his victim's body, encircling him like aserpent, but the tip of the thong struck the plank upon which Gregorywas lying. Nevertheless, in spite of this precaution, Gregory uttered aloud shriek, and Ivan counted "One. "

At the shriek, the young aide-de-camp again turned towards the window;but it was still shut, and mechanically his eyes went back to theculprit, and he repeated the word "One. "

The knout had traced three blue furrows on Gregory's shoulders. Ivan took another spring, and with the same skill as before he againenveloped the culprit's body with the hissing thong, ever taking carethat the tip of it should not touch him. Gregory uttered another shriek, and Ivan counted "Two. " The blood now began to colour the skin. 

At the third stroke several drops of blood appeared; at the fourth theblood spurted out; at the fifth some drops spattered the young officer'sface; he drew back, and wiped them away with his handkerchief. Ivanprofited by his distraction, and counted seven instead of six: thecaptain took no notice. At the ninth stroke Ivan stopped to change thelash, and in the hope that a second fraud might pass off as luckily asthe first, he counted eleven instead of ten. 

At that moment a window opposite to Vaninka's opened, and a man aboutforty-five or fifty in general's uniform appeared. He called out in acareless tone, "Enough, that will do, " and closed the window again. 

Immediately on this apparition the young aide-de-camp had turned towardshis general, saluting, and during the few seconds that the general waspresent he remained motionless. When the window had been shut again, he repeated the general's words, so that the raised whip fell withouttouching the culprit. 

"Thank his excellency, Gregory, " said Ivan, rolling the knout's lashround his hand, "for having spared you two strokes;" and he added, bending down to liberate Gregory's hand, "these two with the two I wasable to miss out make a total of eight strokes instead of twelve. Come, now, you others, untie his other hand. "

But poor Gregory was in no state to thank anybody; nearly swooning withpain, he could scarcely stand. 

Two moujiks took him by the arms and led him towards the serfs'quarters, followed by Ivan. Having reached the door, however, Gregorystopped, turned his head, and seeing the aide-de-camp gazing pitifullyat him, "Oh sir, " he cried, "please thank his excellency the general forme. As for the lady Vaninka, " he added in a low tone, "I will certainlythank her myself. "

"What are you muttering between your teeth?" cried the young officer, with an angry movement; for he thought he had detected a threateningtone in Gregory's voice. 

"Nothing, sir, nothing, " said Ivan. "The poor fellow is merely thankingyou, Mr. Foedor, for the trouble you have taken in being present at hispunishment, and he says that he has been much honoured, that is all. "

"That is right, " said the young man, suspecting that Ivan had somewhataltered the original remarks, but evidently not wishing to be betterinformed. "If Gregory wishes to spare me this trouble another time, lethim drink less vodka; or else, if he must get drunk, let him at leastremember to be more respectful. "

Ivan bowed low and followed his comrades, Foedor entered the houseagain, and the crowd dispersed, much dissatisfied that Ivan's trickeryand the general's generosity had deprived them of four strokes of theknout--exactly a third of the punishment. 

Now that we have introduced our readers to some of the characters inthis history, we must make them better acquainted with those who havemade their appearance, and must introduce those who are still behind thecurtain. 

General Count Tchermayloff, as we have said, after having been governorof one of the most important towns in the environs of Pultava, had beenrecalled to St. Petersburg by the Emperor Paul, who honoured him withhis particular friendship. The general was a widower, with one daughter, who had inherited her mother's fortune, beauty, and pride. Vaninka'smother claimed descent from one of the chieftains of the Tartar race, who had invaded Russia, under the leadership of D'Gengis, in thethirteenth century. Vaninka's naturally haughty disposition had beenfostered by the education she had received. His wife being dead, andnot having time to look after his daughter's education himself, GeneralTchermayloff had procured an English governess for her. This lady, instead of suppressing her pupil's scornful propensities, had encouragedthem, by filling her head with those aristocratic ideas which have madethe English aristocracy the proudest in the world. Amongst the differentstudies to which Vaninka devoted herself, there was one in which shewas specially interested, and that one was, if one may so call it, the science of her own rank. She knew exactly the relative degree ofnobility and power of all the Russian noble families--those that werea grade above her own, and those of whom she took precedence. She couldgive each person the title which belonged to their respective rank, noeasy thing to do in Russia, and she had the greatest contempt for allthose who were below the rank of excellency. As for serfs and slaves, for her they did not exist: they were mere bearded animals, far belowher horse or her dog in the sentiments which they inspired in her; andshe would not for one instant have weighed the life of a serf againsteither of those interesting animals. 

Like all the women of distinction in her nation, Vaninka was a goodmusician, and spoke French, Italian, German, and English equally well. 

Her features had developed in harmony with her character. Vaninka wasbeautiful, but her beauty was perhaps a little too decided. Her largeblack eyes, straight nose, and lips curling scornfully at the corners, impressed those who saw her for the first time somewhat unpleasantly. This impression soon wore off with her superiors and equals, to whom shebecame merely an ordinary charming woman, whilst to subalterns and suchlike she remained haughty and inaccessible as a goddess. At seventeenVaninka's education was finished, and her governess who had sufferedin health through the severe climate of St. Petersburg, requestedpermission to leave. This desire was granted with the ostentatiousrecognition of which the Russian nobility are the last representativesin Europe. Thus Vaninka was left alone, with nothing but her father'sblind adoration to direct her. She was his only daughter, as we havementioned, and he thought her absolutely perfect. 

Things were in this state in the-general's house when he received aletter, written on the deathbed of one of the friends of his youth. Count Romayloff had been exiled to his estates, as a result of somequarrel with Potemkin, and his career had been spoilt. Not being able torecover his forfeited position, he had settled down about four hundredleagues from St. Petersburg; broken-hearted, distressed probably lesson account of his own exile and misfortune than of the prospects of hisonly son, Foedor. The count feeling that he was leaving this son aloneand friendless in the world, commended the young man, in the name oftheir early friendship, to the general, hoping that, owing to his beinga favourite with Paul I, he would be able to procure a lieutenancy in aregiment for him. The general immediately replied to the count that hisson should find a second father in himself; but when this comfortingmessage arrived, Romayloff was no more, and Foedor himself received theletter and carried it back with him to the general, when he went to tellhim of his loss and to claim the promised protection. So great was thegeneral's despatch, that Paul I, at his request, granted the young mana sub-lieutenancy in the Semonowskoi regiment, so that Foedor entered onhis duties the very next day after his arrival in St. Petersburg. 

Although the young man had only passed through the general's house onhis way to the barracks, which were situated in the Litenoi quarter, hehad remained there long enough for him to have seen Vaninka, and she hadproduced a great impression upon him. Foedor had arrived with his heartfull of primitive and noble feelings; his gratitude to his protector, who had opened a career for him, was profound, and extended to all hisfamily. These feelings caused him perhaps to have an exaggerated idea ofthe beauty of the young girl who was presented to him as a sister, andwho, in spite of this title, received him with the frigidity and hauteurof a queen. Nevertheless, her appearance, in spite of her cool andfreezing manner, had left a lasting impression upon the young man'sheart, and his arrival in St. Petersburg had been marked by feelingstill then never experienced before in his life. 

As for Vaninka, she had hardly noticed Foedor; for what was a youngsub-lieutenant, without fortune or prospects, to her? What she dreamedof was some princely alliance, that would make her one of the mostpowerful ladies in Russia, and unless he could realise some dream of theArabian Nights, Foedor could not offer her such a future. 

Some time after this first interview, Foedor came to take leave ofthe general. His regiment was to form part of a contingent thatField-Marshal Souvarow was taking to Italy, and Foedor was about todie, or show himself worthy of the noble patron who had helped him to acareer. 

This time, whether on account of the elegant uniform that heightenedFoedor's natural good looks, or because his imminent departure, glowingwith hope and enthusiasm, lent a romantic interest to the young man, Vaninka was astonished at the marvellous change in him, and deigned, ather father's request, to give him her hand when he left. This was morethan Foedor had dared to hope. He dropped upon his knee, as though inthe presence of a queen, and took Vaninka's between his own tremblinghands, scarcely daring to touch it with his lips. Light though thekiss had been, Vaninka started as though she had been burnt; she felt athrill run through her, and she blushed violently. She withdrew her handso quickly, that Foedor, fearing this adieu, respectful though it was, had offended her, remained on his knees, and clasping his hands, raised his eyes with such an expression of fear in them, that Vaninka, forgetting her hauteur, reassured him with a smile. Foedor rose, hisheart filled with inexplicable joy, and without being able to say whathad caused this feeling, he only knew that it had made him absolutelyhappy, so that, although he was just about to leave Vaninka, he hadnever felt greater happiness in his life. 

The young man left dreaming golden dreams; for his future, be it gloomyor bright, was to be envied. If it ended in a soldier's grave, hebelieved he had seen in Vaninka's eyes that she would mourn him; if hisfuture was glorious, glory would bring him back to St. Petersburg intriumph, and glory is a queen, who works miracles for her favourites. 

The army to which the young officer belonged crossed Germany, descendedinto Italy by the Tyrolese mountains, and entered Verona on the 14th ofApril 1799. Souvarow immediately joined forces with General Melas, andtook command of the two armies. General Chasteler next day suggestedthat they should reconnoitre. Souvarow, gazing at him with astonishment, replied, "I know of no other way of reconnoitring the enemy than bymarching upon him and giving him battle. "

As a matter of fact Souvarow was accustomed to this expeditious sortof strategy: through it he had defeated the Turks at Folkschany andIsmailoff; and he had defeated the Poles, after a few days' campaign, and had taken Prague in less than four hours. Catherine, out ofgratitude, had sent her victorious general a wreath of oak-leaves, intertwined with precious stones, and worth six hundred thousandroubles, a heavy gold field-marshal's baton encrusted with diamonds; andhad created him a field-marshal, with the right of choosing a regimentthat should bear his name from that time forward. Besides, when hereturned to Russia, she gave him leave of absence, that he might take aholiday at a beautiful estate she had given him, together with the eightthousand serfs who lived upon it. 

What a splendid example for Foedor! Souvarow, the son of a humbleRussian officer, had been educated at the ordinary cadets' trainingcollege, and had left it as a sub-lieutenant like himself. Why shouldthere not be two Souvarows in the same century?

Souvarow arrived in Italy preceded by an immense reputation; religious, strenuous, unwearied, impassible, loving with the simplicity of a Tartarand fighting with the fury of a Cossack, he was just the man requiredto continue General Melas's successes over the soldiers of the Republic, discouraged as they had been by the weak vacillations of Scherer. 

The Austro-Russian army of one hundred thousand men was opposed by onlytwenty-nine or thirty thousand French. Souvarow began as usual with athundering blow. On 20th April he appeared before Brescia, which madea vain attempt at resistance; after a cannonade of about half an hour'sduration, the Preschiera gate was forced, and the Korsakow division, of which Foedor's regiment formed the vanguard, charged into the town, pursuing the garrison, which only consisted of twelve hundred men, andobliged them to take refuge in the citadel. Pressed with an impetuositythe French were not accustomed to find in their enemies, and seeing thatthe scaling ladders were already in position against the ramparts, the captain Boucret wished to come to terms; but his position was tooprecarious for him to obtain any conditions from his savage conquerors, and he and his soldiers were made prisoners of war. 

Souvarow was experienced enough to know how best to profit by victory;hardly master of Brescia, the rapid occupation of which had discouragedour army anew, he ordered General Kray to vigorously press on the siegeof Preschiera. General Kray therefore established his headquarters atValeggio, a place situated at an equal distance between Preschiera andMantua, and he extended from the Po to the lake of Garda, on the banksof the Mencio, thus investing the two cities at the same time. 

Meanwhile the commander-in-chief had advanced, accompanied by thelarger part of his forces, and had crossed the Oglio in two columns: helaunched one column, under General Rosenberg, towards Bergamo, and theother, with General Melas in charge, towards the Serio, whilst a bodyof seven or eight thousand men, commanded by General Kaim and GeneralHohenzollern, were directed towards Placentia and Cremona, thusoccupying the whole of the left bank of the Po, in such a manner thatthe Austro-Russian army advanced deploying eighty thousand men along afront of forty-five miles. 

In view of the forces which were advancing, and which were three timesas large as his own, Scherer beat a retreat all along the line. Hedestroyed the bridges over the Adda, as he did not consider that hewas strong enough to hold them, and, having removed his headquarters toMilan, he awaited there the reply to a despatch which he had sent to theDirectory, in which, tacitly acknowledging his incapacity, he tenderedhis resignation. As the arrival of his successor was delayed, and asSouvarow continued to advance, Scherer, more and more terrified by theresponsibility which rested upon him, relinquished his command into thehands of his most able lieutenant. The general chosen by him was Moreau, who was again about to fight those Russians in whose ranks he wasdestined to die at last. 

Moreau's unexpected nomination was proclaimed amidst the acclamation ofthe soldiers. He had been called the French Fabius, on account of hismagnificent campaign on the Rhine. He passed his whole army in review, saluted by the successive acclamations of its different divisions, whichcried, "Long live Moreau! Long live the saviour of the army of Italy!"But however great this enthusiasm, it did not blind Moreau to theterrible position in which he found himself. At the risk of beingout-flanked, it was necessary for him to present a parallel line to thatof the Russian army, so that, in order to face his enemy, he was obligedto extend his line from Lake Lecco to Pizzighitone--that is to say, adistance of fifty miles. It is true that he might have retired towardsPiedmont and concentrated his troops at Alexandria, to await there thereinforcements the Directory had promised to send him. But if he haddone this, he would have compromised the safety of the army at Naples, and have abandoned it, isolated as it was, to the mercy of the enemy. He therefore resolved to defend the passage of the Adda as long aspossible, in order to give the division under Dessolles, which was to bedespatched to him by Massena, time to join forces with him and to defendhis left, whilst Gauthier, who had received orders to evacuate Tuscanyand to hasten with forced marches to his aid, should have time to arriveand protect his right. Moreau himself took the centre, and personallydefended the fortified bridge of Cassano; this bridge was protectedby the Ritorto Canal, and he also defended it with a great deal ofartillery and an entrenched vanguard. Besides, Moreau, always asprudent as brave, took every precaution to secure a retreat, in case ofdisaster, towards the Apennines and the coast of Genoa. Hardly werehis dispositions completed before the indefatigable Souvarow enteredTriveglio. At the same time as the Russian commander-in-chief arrived atthis last town, Moreau heard of the surrender of Bergamo and its castle, and on 23rd April he saw the heads of the columns of the allied army. 

The same day the Russian general divided his troops into three strongcolumns, corresponding to the three principal points in the French line, each column numerically more than double the strength of those towhom they were opposed. The right column, led by General Wukassowich, advanced towards Lake Lecco, where General Serrurier awaited it. Theleft column, under the command of Melas, took up its position in frontof the Cassano entrenchments; and the Austrian division, under GeneralsZopf and Ott, which formed the centre, concentrated at Canonia, readyat a given moment to seize Vaprio. The Russian and Austrian troopsbivouacked within cannon-shot of the French outposts. 

That evening, Foedor, who with his regiment formed part of Chasteler'sdivision, wrote to General Tchermayloff:

"We are at last opposite the French, and a great battle must takeplace to-morrow morning; tomorrow evening I shall be a lieutenant or acorpse. "

Next morning, 26th April, cannon resounded at break of day from theextremities of the lines; on our left Prince Bagration's grenadiersattacked us, on our right General Seckendorff, who had been detachedfrom the camp of Triveglio, was marching on Crema. 

These two attacks met with very different success. Bagration'sgrenadiers were repulsed with terrible loss, whilst Seckendorff, on thecontrary, drove the French out of Crema, and pushed forward towards thebridge of Lodi. Foedor's predictions were falsified: his portion ofthe army did nothing the whole day; his regiment remained motionless, waiting for orders that did not come. 

Souvarow's arrangements were not yet quite complete, the night wasneeded for him to finish them. During the night, Moreau, having heard ofSeckendorff's success on his extreme right, sent an order to Serruriercommanding him to leave at Lecco, which was an easy post to defend, the18th light brigade and a detachment of dragoons only, and to draw backwith the rest of his troops towards the centre. Serrurier received thisorder about two o'clock in the morning, and executed it immediately. 

On their side the Russians had lost no time, profiting by the darknessof the night. General Wukassowich had repaired the bridge at Brevio, which had been destroyed by the French, whilst General Chasteler hadbuilt another bridge two miles below the castle of Trezzo. These twobridges had been, the one repaired and the other built, without theFrench outposts having the slightest suspicion of what was taking place. 

Surprised at two o'clock in the morning by two Austrian divisions, which, concealed by the village of San Gervasio, had reached the rightbank of the Adda without their being discovered, the soldiers defendingthe castle of Trezzo abandoned it and beat a retreat. The Austrianspursued them as far as Pozzo, but there the French suddenly halted andfaced about, for General Serrurier was at Pozzo, with the troops hehad brought from Lecco. He heard the cannonade behind him, immediatelyhalted, and, obeying the first law of warfare, he marched towards thenoise and smoke. It was therefore through him that the garrison ofTrezzo rallied and resumed the offensive. Serrurier sent an aide-de-Campto Moreau to inform him of the manoeuvre he had thought proper toexecute. 

The battle between the French and Austrian troops raged with incrediblefury. Bonaparte's veterans, during their first Italian campaigns, hadadopted a custom which they could not renounce: it was to fight HisImperial Majesty's subjects wherever they found them. Nevertheless, sogreat was the numerical superiority of the allies, that our troops hadbegun to retreat, when loud shouts from the rearguard announced thatreinforcements had arrived. It was General Grenier, sent by Moreau, who arrived with his division at the moment when his presence was mostnecessary. 

One part of the new division reinforced the centre column, doubling itssize; another part was extended upon the left to envelop the enemy. Thedrums beat afresh down the whole line, and our grenadiers began againto reconquer this battle field already twice lost and won. But at thismoment the Austrians were reinforced by the Marquis de Chasteler and hisdivision, so that the numerical superiority was again with the enemy. Grenier drew back his wing to strengthen the centre, and Serrurier, preparing for retreat in case of disaster, fell back on Pozzo, wherehe awaited the enemy. It was here that the battle raged most fiercely:thrice the village of Pozzo was taken and re-taken, until at last, attacked for the fourth time by a force double their own in numbers, the French were obliged to evacuate it. In this last attack an Austriancolonel was mortally wounded, but, on the other hand, General Beker, whocommanded the French rearguard, refused to retreat with his soldiers, and maintained his ground with a few men, who were slain as they stood;he was at length obliged to give up his sword to a young Russian officerof the Semenofskoi regiment, who, handing over his prisoner to his ownsoldiers, returned immediately to the combat. 

The two French generals had fixed on the village of Vaprio as arallying-place, but at the moment when our troops were thrown intodisorder through the evacuation of Pozzo, the Austrian cavalry chargedheavily, and Serrurier, finding himself separated from his colleague, was obliged to retire with two thousand five hundred men to Verderio, whilst Grenier, having reached the appointed place, Vaprio, halted toface the enemy afresh. 

During this time a terrible fight was taking place in the centre. Melaswith eighteen to twenty thousand men had attacked the fortified postsat the head of the bridge of Cassano and the Ritorto Canal. About seveno'clock in the morning, when Moreau had weakened himself by despatchingGrenier and his division, Melas, leading three battalions of Austriangrenadiers, had attacked the fortifications, and for two hours there wasterrible carnage; thrice repulsed, and leaving more than fifteen hundredmen at the base of the fortifications, the Austrians had thrice returnedto the attack, each time being reinforced by fresh troops, always ledon and encouraged by Melas, who had to avenge his former defeats. Atlength, having been attacked for the fourth time, forced from theirentrenchments, and contesting the ground inch by inch, the French tookshelter behind their second fortifications, which defended the entranceto the bridge itself: here they were commanded by Moreau in person. There, for two more hours, a hand-to-hand struggle took place, whilstthe terrible artillery belched forth death almost muzzle to muzzle. Atlast the Austrians, rallying for a last time, advanced at the point ofthe bayonet, and; lacking either ladders or fascines, piled the bodiesof their dead comrades against the fortifications, and succeeded inscaling the breastworks. There was not a moment to be lost. Moreauordered a retreat, and whilst the French were recrossing the Adda, heprotected their passage in person with a single battalion of grenadiers, of whom at the end of half an hour not more than a hundred and twentymen remained; three of his aides-de-camp were killed at his side. Thisretreat was accomplished without disorder, and then Moreau himselfretired, still fighting the enemy, who set foot on the bridge as soon ashe reached the other bank. The Austrians immediately rushed forward tocapture him, when suddenly a terrible noise was heard rising above theroar of the artillery; the second arch of the bridge was blown into theair, carrying with it all those who were standing on the fatal spot. Thearmies recoiled, and into the empty space between them fell like rain adebris of stones and human beings. But at this moment, when Moreau hadsucceeded in putting a momentary obstacle between himself and Melas, General Grenier's division arrived in disorder, after having been forcedto evacuate Vaprio, pursued by the Austro-Russians under Zopf, Ott, andChasteler. Moreau ordered a change of front, and faced this new enemy, who fell upon him when he least expected them; he succeeded in rallyingGrenier's troops and in re-establishing the battle. But whilst his backwas turned Melas repaired the bridge and crossed the river; thus Moreaufound himself attacked frontally, in the rear, and on his two flanks, by forces three times larger than his own. It was then that allthe officers who surrounded him begged him to retreat, for on thepreservation of his person depended the preservation of Italy forFrance. Moreau refused for some time, for he knew the awful consequencesof the battle he had just lost, and he did not wish to survive it, although it had been impossible for him to win it. At last a chosen bandsurrounded him, and, forming a square, drew back, whilst the rest of thearmy sacrificed themselves to cover his retreat; for Moreau's genius waslooked upon as the sole hope that remained to them. 

The battle lasted nearly three hours longer, during which the rearguardof the army performed prodigies of valour. At length Melas, seeing thatthe enemy had escaped him, and believing that his troops, tired by thestubborn fight, needed rest, gave orders that the fighting shouldcease. He halted on the left bank of the Adda, encamping his army in thevillages of Imago, Gorgonzola, and Cassano, and remained master of thebattlefield, upon which we had left two thousand five hundred dead, onehundred pieces of cannon, and twenty howitzers. 

That night Souvarow invited General Becker to supper with him, and askedhim by whom he had been taken prisoner. Becker replied that it was ayoung officer belonging to the regiment which had first entered Pozzo. Souvarow immediately inquired what regiment this was, and discoveredthat it was the Semenofskoi; he then ordered that inquiries shouldbe made to ascertain the young officer's name. Shortly afterwardsSub-Lieutenant Foedor Romayloff was announced. He presented GeneralBecker's sword to Souvarow, who invited him to remain and to have supperwith his prisoner. 

Next day Foedor wrote to his protector: "I have kept my word. I am alieutenant, and Field-Marshal Souvarow has requested his Majesty Paul Ito bestow upon me the order of Saint Vladimir. "

On 28th of April, Souvarow entered Milan, which Moreau had justabandoned in order to retreat beyond Tesino. The following proclamationwas by his order posted on all the walls of the capital; it admirablypaints the spirit of the Muscovite:

"The victorious army of the Apostolical and Roman Emperor is here; ithas fought solely for the restoration of the Holy Faith, --the clergy, nobility, and ancient government of Italy. People, join us for God andthe Faith, for we have arrived with an army at Milan and Placentia toassist you!"

The dearly bought victories of Trebia and Novi succeeded that ofCassano, and left Souvarow so much weakened that he was unable to profitby them. Besides, just when the Russian general was about to resumehis march, a new plan of campaign arrived, sent by the Aulic Council atVienna. The Allied Powers had decided upon the invasion of France, andhad fixed the route each general must follow in order to accomplishthis new project. It way decided that Souvarow should invade France bySwitzerland, and that the arch-duke should yield him his positions anddescend on the Lower Rhine. 

The troops with which Souvarow was to operate against Massena from thistime were the thirty thousand Russians he had with him, thirty thousandothers detached from the reserve army commanded by Count Tolstoy inGalicia, who were to be led to join him in Switzerland by GeneralKorsakoff, about thirty thousand Austrians under General Hotze, andlastly, five or six thousand French emigrants under the Prince de Condein all, an army of ninety or ninety-five thousand men. The Austrianswere to oppose Moreau and Macdonald. 

Foedor had been wounded when entering Novi, but Souvarow had rewardedhim with a second cross, and the rank of captain hastened hisconvalescence, so that the young officer, more happy than proud of thenew rank he had received, was in a condition to follow the army, whenon 13th September it moved towards Salvedra and entered the valley ofTesino. 

So far all had gone well, and as long as they remained in the richand beautiful Italian plains, Suovarow had nothing but praise for thecourage and devotion of his soldiers. But when to the fertile fields ofLombardy, watered by its beautiful river, succeeded the rough ways ofthe Levantine, and when the lofty summits of the St. Gothard, coveredwith the eternal snows, rose before them, their enthusiasm was quenched, their energy disappeared, and melancholy forebodings filled the heartsof these savage children of the North. 

Unexpected grumblings ran through the ranks; then suddenly the vanguardstopped, and declared that it would go no farther. In vain Foedor, whocommanded a company, begged and entreated his own men to set an exampleby continuing the march: they threw down their arms, and lay downbeside them. Just as they had given this proof of insubordination, freshmurmurs, sounding like an approaching storm, rose from the rear of thearmy: they were caused by the sight of Souvarow, who was riding from therear to the vanguard, and who arrived at the front accompanied by thisterrible proof of mutiny and insubordination. When he reached the headof the column, the murmurings had developed into imprecations. 

Then Souvarow addressed his soldiers with that savage eloquence to whichhe owed the miracles he had effected with them, but cries of "Retreat!Retreat!" drowned his voice. Then he chose out the most mutinous, andhad them thrashed until they were overcome by this shameful punishment:But the thrashings had no more influence than the exhortation, and theshouts continued. Souvarow saw that all was lost if he did not employsome powerful and unexpected means of regaining the mutineers. Headvanced towards Foedor. "Captain, " said he, "leave these foolshere, take eight non-commissioned officers and dig a grave. " Foedor, astonished, gazed at his general as though demanding an explanation ofthis strange order. "Obey orders, " said Souvarow. 

Foedor obeyed, and the eight men set to work; and ten minutes later thegrave was dug, greatly to the astonishment of the whole army, which hadgathered in a semicircle on the rising slopes of the two hills whichbordered the road, standing as if on the steps of a huge amphitheatre. 

Souvarow dismounted from his horse, broke his sword in two and threw itinto the grave, detached his epaulets one by one and threw them afterhis sword, dragged off the decorations which covered his breast and castthese after the sword and epaulets, and then, stripping himself naked, he lay down in the grave himself, crying in a loud voice--

"Cover me with earth! Leave your general here. You are no longer mychildren, and I am no longer your father; nothing remains to me butdeath. "

At these strange words, which were uttered in so powerful a voicethat they were heard by the whole army, the Russian grenadiers threwthemselves weeping into the grave, and, raising their general, askedpardon of him, entreating him to lead them again against the enemy. 

"At last, " cried Souvarow, "I recognise my children again. To theenemy!"

Not cries but yells of joy greeted his words. Souvarav dressed himselfagain, and whilst he was dressing the leaders of the mutiny crept inthe dust to kiss his feet. Then, when his epaulets were replaced onhis shoulders, and when his decorations again shone on his breast, heremounted his horse, followed by the army, the soldiers swearing withone voice that they would all die rather than abandon their father. 

The same day Souvarow attacked Aerolo; but his luck had turned: theconqueror of Cassano, Trebia, and Novi had left his good-fortune behindin the plains of Italy. For twelve hours six hundred French opposedthree thousand Russian grenadiers beneath the walls of the town, and sosuccessfully that night fell without Souvarow being able to defeat them. Next day he marched the whole of his troops against this handful ofbrave men, but the sky clouded over and the wind blew a bitter rain intothe faces of the Russians; the French profited by this circumstance tobeat a retreat, evacuating the valley of Ursern, crossing the Reuss, andtaking up their position on the heights of the Furka and Grimsel. One portion of the Russian army's design had been achieved, they weremasters of the St. Gothard. It is true that as soon as they marchedfarther on, the French would retake it and cut off their retreat; butwhat did this matter to Souvarow? Did he not always march forward?

He marched on, then, without worrying about that which was behind him, reached Andermatt, cleared Trou d'Ury, and found Lecourbe guardingthe defile of the Devil's Bridge with fifteen hundred men. There thestruggle began again; for three days fifteen hundred Frenchmen keptthirty thousand Russians at bay. Souvarow raged like a lion trapped ina snare, for he could not understand this change of fortune. At last, on the fourth day, he heard that General Korsakoff, who had preceded himand who was to rejoin him later, had been beaten by Molitor, andthat Massena had recaptured Zurich and occupied the canton of Glaris. Souvarow now gave up the attempt to proceed up the valley of the Reuss, and wrote to Korsakoff and Jallachieh, "I hasten to retrieve yourlosses; stand firm as ramparts: you shall answer to me with your headsfor every step in retreat that you take. " The aide-de-camp was alsocharged to communicate to the Russian and Austrian generals a verbalplan of battle. Generals Linsken and Jallachieh were to attack theFrench troops separately and then to join the forces in the valley ofGlaris, into which Souvarow himself was to descend by the Klon-Thal, thus hemming Molitor in between two walls of iron. 

Souvarow was so sure that this plan would be successful, that when hearrived on the borders of the lake of Klon-Thal, he sent a bearer witha flag of truce, summoning Molitor to surrender, seeing that he wassurrounded on every side. 

Molitor replied, to the field-marshal that his proposed meeting withhis generals had failed, as he had beaten them one after the other, anddriven them back into the Grisons, and that moreover, in retaliation, as Massena was advancing by Muotta, it was he, Souvarow, who wasbetween two fires, and therefore he called upon him to lay down his armsinstead. 

On hearing this strange reply, Souvarow thought that he must bedreaming, but soon recovering himself and realising the danger ofhis position in the defiles, he threw himself on General Molitor, whoreceived him at the point of the bayonet, and then closing up the passwith twelve hundred men, the French succeeded in holding fifteen toeighteen thousand Russians in check for eight hours. At length nightcame, and Molitor evacuated the Klon Thal, and retired towards theLinth, to defend the bridges of Noefels and Mollis. 

The old field-marshal rushed like a torrent over Glaris and Miltodi;there he learnt that Molitor had told him the truth, and that Jallachiehand Linsken had been beaten and dispersed, that Massena was advancing onSchwitz, and that General Rosenberg, who had been given the defenceof the bridge of Muotta, had been forced to retreat, so that he foundhimself in the position in which he had hoped to place Molitor. 

No time was to be lost in retreating. Souvarow hurried through thepasses of Engi, Schwauden, and Elm. His flight was so hurried thathe was obliged to abandon his wounded and part of his artillery. Immediately the French rushed in pursuit among the precipices andclouds. One saw whole armies passing over places where chamois-hunterstook off their shoes and walked barefoot, holding on by their handsto prevent themselves from falling. Three nations had come from threedifferent parts to a meeting-place in the home of the eagles, as if toallow those nearest God to judge the justice of their cause. There weretimes when the frozen mountains changed into volcanoes, when cascadesnow filled with blood fell into the valleys, and avalanches of humanbeings rolled down the deepest precipices. Death reaped such a harvestthere where human life had never been before, that the vultures, becoming fastidious through the abundance, picked out only the eyes ofthe corpses to carry to their young--at least so says the tradition ofthe peasants of these mountains. 

Souvarow was able to rally his troops at length in the neighbourhood ofLindau. He recalled Korsakoff, who still occupied Bregenz; but all histroops together did not number more than thirty thousand men-allthat remained of the eighty thousand whom Paul had furnished as hiscontingent in the coalition. In fifteen days Massena had defeated threeseparate armies, each numerically stronger than his own. Souvarow, furious at having been defeated by these same Republicans whom he hadsworn to exterminate, blamed the Austrians for his defeat, and declaredthat he awaited orders from his emperor, to whom he had made known thetreachery of the allies, before attempting anything further with thecoalition. 

Paul's answer was that he should immediately return to Russia withhis soldiers, arriving at St. Petersburg as soon as possible, where atriumphal entry awaited them. 

The same ukase declared that Souvarow should be quartered in theimperial palace for the rest of his life, and lastly that a monumentshould be raised to him in one of the public places of St. Petersburg. 

Foedor was thus about to see Vaninka once more. Throughout the campaign, where there was a chance of danger, whether in the plains of Italy, inthe defiles of Tesino, or on the glaciers of Mount Pragal, he wasthe first to throw himself into it, and his name had frequently beenmentioned as worthy of distinction. Souvarow was too brave himself to beprodigal of honours where they were not merited. Foedor was returning, as he had promised, worthy of his noble protector's friendship, and whoknows, perhaps worthy of Vaninka's love. Field-Marshal Souvarow had madea friend of him, and none could know to what this friendship might notlead; for Paul honoured Souvarow like one of the ancient heroes. 

But no one could rely upon Paul, for his character was made up ofextreme impulses. Without having done anything to offend his master, and without knowing the cause of his disgrace, Souvarow, on arrivingat Riga, received a private letter which informed him, in the emperor'sname, that, having tolerated an infraction of the laws of disciplineamong his soldiers, the emperor deprived him of all the honours withwhich he had been invested, and also forbade him to appear before him. 

Such tidings fell like a thunderbolt upon the old warrior, alreadyembittered by his reverses: he was heart-broken that such storm-cloudsshould tarnish the end of his glorious day. 

In consequence of this order, he assembled all his officers in themarket-place of Riga, and took leave of them sorrowfully, like a fathertaking leave of his family. Having embraced the generals and colonels, and having shaken hands with the others, he said good-bye to them oncemore, and left them free to continue their march to their destination. 

Souvarow took a sledge, and, travelling night and day, arrived incognitoin the capital, which he was to have entered in triumph, and was drivento a distant suburb, to the house of one of his nieces, where he died ofa broken heart fifteen days afterwards. 

On his own account, Foedor travelled almost as rapidly as his general, and entered St. Petersburg without having sent any letter to announcehis arrival. As he had no parent in the capital, and as his entireexistence was concentrated in one person, he drove direct to thegeneral's house, which was situated in the Prospect of Niewski, at anangle of the Catherine Canal. 

Having arrived there, he sprang out of his carriage, entered thecourtyard, and bounded up the steps. He opened the ante-chamber door, and precipitated himself into the midst of the servants and subordinatehousehold officers. They cried out with surprise upon seeing him: heasked them where the general was; they replied by pointing to the doorof the dining-room; he was in there, breakfasting with his daughter. 

Then, through a strange reaction, Foedor felt his knees failing him, andhe was obliged to lean against a wall to prevent himself from falling. At this moment, when he was about to see Vaninka again, this soul of hissoul, for whom alone he had done so much, he dreaded lest he should notfind her the same as when he had left her. Suddenly the dining-room dooropened, and Vaninka appeared. Seeing the young man, she uttered a cry, and, turning to the general, said, "Father, it is Foedor;" and theexpression of her voice left no doubt of the sentiment which inspiredit. 

"Foedor!" cried the general, springing forward and holding out his arms. 

Foedor did not know whether to throw himself at the feet of Vaninka orinto the arms of her father. He felt that his first recognition oughtto be devoted to respect and gratitude, and threw himself into thegeneral's arms. Had he acted otherwise, it would have been an avowal ofhis love, and he had no right to avow this love till he knew that it wasreciprocated. 

Foedor then turned, and as at parting, sank on his knee before Vaninka;but a moment had sufficed for the haughty girl to banish the feeling shehad shown. The blush which had suffused her cheek had disappeared, and she had become again cold and haughty like an alabaster statue-amasterpiece of pride begun by nature and finished by education. Foedorkissed her hand; it was trembling but cold he felt his heart sink, andthought he was about to die. 

"Why, Vaninka, " said the general--"why are you so cool to a friend whohas caused us so much anxiety and yet so much pleasure? Come, Fordor, kiss my daughter. "

Foedor rose entreatingly, but waited motionless, that another permissionmight confirm that of the general. 

"Did you not hear my father?" said Vaninka, smiling, but neverthelesspossessing sufficient self-control to prevent the emotion she wasfeeling from appearing in her voice. 

Foedor stooped to kiss Vaninka, and as he held her hands it seemedto him that she lightly pressed his own with a nervous, involuntarymovement. A feeble cry of joy nearly escaped him, when, suddenly lookingat Vaninka, he was astonished at her pallor: her lips were as white asdeath. 

The general made Foedor sit down at the table: Vaninka took her placeagain, and as by chance she was seated with her back to the light, thegeneral noticed nothing. 

Breakfast passed in relating and listening to an account of this strangecampaign which began under the burning sun of Italy and ended in theglaciers of Switzerland. As there are no journals in St. Petersburgwhich publish anything other than that which is permitted by theemperor, Souvarow's successes were spread abroad, but his reverses wereignored. Foedor described the former with modesty and the latter withfrankness. 

One can imagine, the immense interest the general took in Foedor'sstory. His two captain's epaulets and the decorations on his breastproved that the young man had modestly suppressed his own part in thestory he had told. But the general, too courageous to fear that hemight share in Souvarow's disgrace, had already visited the dyingfield-marshal, and had heard from him an account of his young protege'sbravery. Therefore, when Foedor had finished his story, it was thegeneral's turn to enumerate all the fine things Foedor had done in acampaign of less than a year. Having finished this enumeration, he addedthat he intended next day to ask the emperor's permission to take theyoung captain for his aide-de-camp. Foedor hearing this wished to throwhimself at the general's feet, but he received him again in his arms, and to show Foedor how certain he was that he would be successful inhis request, he fixed the rooms that the young man was to occupy in thehouse at once. 

The next day the general returned from the palace of St. Michel with thepleasant news that his request had been granted. 

Foedor was overwhelmed with joy: from this time he was to form part ofthe general's family. Living under the same roof as Vaninka, seeing herconstantly, meeting her frequently in the rooms, seeing her pass like anapparition at the end of a corridor, finding himself twice a day at thesame table with her, all this was more than Foedor had ever dared hope, and he thought for a time that he had attained complete happiness. 

For her part, Vaninka, although she was so proud, at the bottom of herheart took a keen interest in Foedor. He had left her with the certaintythat he loved her, and during his absence her woman's pride had beengratified by the glory he had acquired, in the hope of bridging thedistance which separated them. So that, when she saw him return withthis distance between them lessened, she felt by the beating of herheart that gratified pride was changing into a more tender sentiment, and that for her part she loved Foedor as much as it was possible forher to love anyone. 

She had nevertheless concealed these feelings under an appearance ofhaughty indifference, for Vaninka was made so: she intended to letFoedor know some day that she loved him, but until the time came when itpleased her to reveal it, she did not wish the young man to discoverher love. Things went on in this way for several months, and thecircumstances which had at first appeared to Foedor as the height ofhappiness soon became awful torture. 

To love and to feel his heart ever on the point of avowing its love, tobe from morning till night in the company of the beloved one, to meether hand at the table, to touch her dress in a narrow corridor, to feelher leaning on his arm when they entered a salon or left a ballroom, always to have ceaselessly to control every word, look, or movementwhich might betray his feelings, no human power could endure such astruggle. 

Vaninka saw that Foedor could not keep his secret much longer, anddetermined to anticipate the avowal which she saw every moment on thepoint of escaping his heart. 

One day when they were alone, and she saw the hopeless efforts the youngman was making to hide his feelings from her, she went straight up tohim, and, looking at him fixedly, said:

"You love me!"

"Forgive me, forgive me, " cried the young man, clasping his hands. 

"Why should you ask me to forgive you, Foedor? Is not your lovegenuine?"

"Yes, yes, genuine but hopeless. "

"Why hopeless? Does not my father love you as a son?" said Vaninka. 

"Oh, what do you mean?" cried Foedor. "Do you mean that if your fatherwill bestow your hand upon me, that you will then consent--?"

"Are you not both noble in heart and by birth, Foedor? You are notwealthy, it is true, but then I am rich enough for both. "

"Then I am not indifferent to you?"

"I at least prefer you to anyone else I have met. "

"Vaninka!" The young girl drew herself away proudly. 

"Forgive me!" said Foedor. "What am I doing? You have but to order: Ihave no wish apart from you. I dread lest I shall offend you. Tell mewhat to do, and I will obey. "

"The first thing you must do, Foedor, is to ask my father's consent. "

"So you will allow me to take this step?"

"Yes, but on one condition. "

"What is it? Tell me. "

"My father, whatever his answer, must never know that I have consentedto your making this application to him; no one must know that youare following my instructions; the world must remain ignorant of theconfession I have just made to you; and, lastly, you must not askme, whatever happens, to help you in any other way than with my goodwishes. "

"Whatever you please. I will do everything you wish me to do. Do younot grant me a thousand times more than I dared hope, and if your fatherrefuses me, do I not know myself that you are sharing my grief?" criedFoedor. 

"Yes; but that will not happen, I hope, " said Vaninka, holding out herhand to the young officer, who kissed it passionately. 

"Now be hopeful and take courage;" and Vaninka retired, leaving theyoung man a hundred times more agitated and moved than she was herself, woman though she was. 

The same day Foedor asked for an interview with the general. Thegeneral received his aide-de-camp as usual with a genial and smilingcountenance, but with the first words Foedor uttered his face darkened. However, when he heard the young man's description of the love, so true, constant, and passionate, that he felt for Vaninka, and when he heardthat this passion had been the motive power of those glorious deeds hehad praised so often, he held out his hand to Foedor, almost as moved asthe young soldier. 

And then the general told him, that while he had been away, and ignorantof his love for Vaninka, in whom he had observed no trace of its beingreciprocated, he had, at the emperor's desire, promised her hand to theson of a privy councillor. The only stipulation that the general hadmade was, that he should not be separated from his daughter until shehad attained the age of eighteen. Vaninka had only five months more tospend under her father's roof. Nothing more could be said: in Russia theemperor's wish is an order, and from the moment that it is expressed, no subject would oppose it, even in thought. However, the refusalhad imprinted such despair on the young man's face, that the general, touched by his silent and resigned sorrow, held out his arms to him. Foedor flung himself into them with loud sobs. 

Then the general questioned him about his daughter, and Foedor answered, as he had promised, that Vaninka was ignorant of everything, and thatthe proposal came from him alone, without her knowledge. This assurancecalmed the general: he had feared that he was making two peoplewretched. 

At dinner-time Vaninka came downstairs and found her father alone. Foedor had not enough courage to be present at the meal and to meet heragain, just when he had lost all hope: he had taken a sleigh, and drivenout to the outskirts of the city. 

During the whole time dinner lasted Vaninka and the general hardlyexchanged a word, but although this silence was so expressive, Vaninkacontrolled her face with her usual power, and the general alone appearedsad and dejected. 

That evening, just when Vaninka was going downstairs, tea was broughtto her room, with the message that the general was fatigued andhad retired. Vaninka asked some questions about the nature of hisindisposition, and finding that it was not serious, she told the servantwho had brought her the message to ask her father to send for her ifhe wanted anything. The general sent to say that he thanked her, but heonly required quiet and rest. Vaninka announced that she would retirealso, and the servant withdrew. 

Hardly had he left the room when Vaninka ordered Annouschka, herfoster-sister, who acted as her maid, to be on the watch for Foedor'sreturn, and to let her know as soon as he came in. 

At eleven o'clock the gate of the mansion opened: Foedor got out of hissleigh, and immediately went up to his room. He threw himself upona sofa, overwhelmed by his thoughts. About midnight he heard someonetapping at the door: much astonished, he got up and opened it. It wasAnnouschka, who came with a message from her mistress, that Vaninkawished to see him immediately. Although he was astonished at thismessage, which he was far from expecting, Foedor obeyed. 

He found Vaninka seated, dressed in a white robe, and as she was palerthan usual he stopped at the door, for it seemed to him that he wasgazing at a marble statue. 

"Come in, " said Vaninka calmly. 

Foedor approached, drawn by her voice like steel to a magnet. Annouschkashut the door behind him. 

"Well, and what did my father say?" said Vaninka. 

Foedor told her all that had happened. The young girl listened to hisstory with an unmoved countenance, but her lips, the only part ofher face which seemed to have any colour, became as white as thedressing-gown she was wearing. Foedor, on the contrary, was consumed bya fever, and appeared nearly out of his senses. 

"Now, what do you intend to do?" said Vaninka in the same cold tone inwhich she had asked the other questions. 

"You ask me what I intend to do, Vaninka? What do you wish me to do?What can I do, but flee from St. Petersburg, and seek death in thefirst corner of Russia where war may break out, in order not to repay mypatron's kindness by some infamous baseness?"

"You are a fool, " said Vaninka, with a mixed smile of triumph andcontempt; for from that moment she felt her superiority over Foedor, andsaw that she would rule him like a queen for the rest of her life. 

"Then order me--am I not your slave?" cried the young soldier. 

"You must stay here, " said Vaninka. 

"Stay here?"

"Yes; only women and children will thus confess themselves beaten at thefirst blow: a man, if he be worthy of the name, fights. "

"Fight!--against whom?--against your father? Never!"

"Who suggested that you should contend against my father? It is againstevents that you must strive; for the generality of men do not governevents, but are carried away by them. Appear to my father as thoughyou were fighting against your love, and he will think that you havemastered yourself. As I am supposed to be ignorant of your proposal, I shall not be suspected. I will demand two years' more freedom, and Ishall obtain them. Who knows what may happen in the course of two years?The emperor may die, my betrothed may die, my father--may God protecthim!--my father himself may die--!"

"But if they force you to marry?"

"Force me!" interrupted Vaninka, and a deep flush rose to her cheek andimmediately disappeared again. "And who will force me to do anything?Father? He loves me too well. The emperor? He has enough worries in hisown family, without introducing them into another's. Besides, there isalways a last resource when every other expedient fails: the Neva onlyflows a few paces from here, and its waters are deep. "

Foedor uttered a cry, for in the young girl's knit brows and tightlycompressed lips there was so much resolution that he understood thatthey might break this child but that they would not bend her. ButFoedor's heart was too much in harmony with the plan Vaninka hadproposed; his objections once removed, he did not seek fresh ones. Besides, had he had the courage to do so; Vaninka's promise to make upin secret to him for the dissimulation she was obliged to practise inpublic would have conquered his last scruples. 

Vaninka, whose determined character had been accentuated by hereducation, had an unbounded influence over all who came in contact withher; even the general, without knowing why, obeyed her. Foedor submittedlike a child to everything she wished, and the young girl's love wasincreased by the wishes she opposed and by a feeling of gratified pride. 

It was some days after this nocturnal decision that the knouting hadtaken place at which our readers have assisted. It was for some slightfault, and Gregory had been the victim; Vaninka having complained toher father about him. Foedor, who as aide-de-camp had been obliged topreside over Gregory's punishment, had paid no more attention to thethreats the serf had uttered on retiring. 

Ivan, the coachman, who after having been executioner had becomesurgeon, had applied compresses of salt and water to heal up thescarred shoulders of his victim. Gregory had remained three days in theinfirmary, and during this time he had turned over in his mind everypossible means of vengeance. Then at the end of three days, beinghealed, he had returned to his duty, and soon everyone except he hadforgotten the punishment. If Gregory had been a real Russian, he wouldsoon have forgotten it all; for this punishment is too familiar to therough Muscovite for him to remember it long and with rancour. Gregory, as we have said, had Greek blood in his veins; he dissembled andremembered. Although Gregory was a serf, his duties had little by littlebrought him into greater familiarity with the general than any of theother servants. Besides, in every country in the world barbers havegreat licence with those they shave; this is perhaps due to the factthat a man is instinctively more gracious to another who for ten minutesevery day holds his life in his hands. Gregory rejoiced in the immunityof his profession, and it nearly always happened that the barber's dailyoperation on the general's chin passed in conversation, of which he borethe chief part. 

One day the general had to attend a review: he sent for Gregory beforedaybreak, and as the barber was passing the razor as gently as possibleover his master's cheek, the conversation fell, or more likely was led, on Foedor. The barber praised him highly, and this naturally caused hismaster to ask him, remembering the correction the young aide-decamphad superintended, if he could not find some fault in this model ofperfection that might counterbalance so many good qualities. Gregory replied that with the exception of pride he thought Foedorirreproachable. 

"Pride?" asked the astonished general. "That is a failing from which Ishould have thought him most free. "

"Perhaps I should have said ambition, " replied Gregory. 

"Ambition!" said the general. "It does not seem to me that he hasgiven much proof of ambition in entering my service; for after hisachievements in the last campaign he might easily have aspired to thehonour of a place in the emperor's household. "

"Oh yes, he is ambitious, " said Gregory, smiling. "One man's ambitionis for high position, another's an illustrious alliance: the former willowe everything to himself, the latter will make a stepping-stone of hiswife, then they raise their eyes higher than they should. "

"What do you mean to suggest?" said the general, beginning to see whatGregory was aiming at. 

"I mean, your excellency, " replied Gregory, "there are many men who, owing to the kindness shown them by others, forget their position andaspire to a more exalted one; having already been placed so high, theirheads are turned. "

"Gregory, " cried the general, "believe me, you are getting into ascrape; for you are making an accusation, and if I take any notice ofit, you will have to prove your words. "

"By St. Basilius, general, it is no scrape when you have truth on yourside; for I have said nothing I am not ready to prove. "

"Then, " said the general, "you persist in declaring that Foedor loves mydaughter?"

"Ah! I have not said that: it is your excellency. I have not named thelady Vaninka, " said Gregory, with the duplicity of his nation. 

"But you meant it, did you not? Come, contrary to your custom, replyfrankly. "

"It is true, your excellency; it is what I meant. "

"And, according to you, my daughter reciprocates the passion, no doubt?"

"I fear so, your excellency. "

"And what makes you think this, say?"

"First, Mr. Foedor never misses a chance of speaking to the ladyVaninka. "

"He is in the same house with her, would you have him avoid her?"

"When the lady Vaninka returns late, and when perchance Mr. Foedor hasnot accompanied you, whatever the hour Mr. Foedor is there, ready, tohelp her out of the carriage. "

"Foedor attends me, it is his duty, " said the general, beginning tobelieve that the serf's suspicions were founded on slight grounds. "Hewaits for me, " he, continued, "because when I return, at any hour of theday or night, I may have orders to give him. "

"Not a day passes without Mr. Foedor going into my lady Vaninka's room, although such a favour is not usually granted to a young man in a houselike that of your excellency. "

"Usually it is I who send him to her, " said the general. 

"Yes, in the daytime, " replied Gregory, "but at night?"

"At night!" cried the general, rising to his feet, and turning so palethat, after a moment, he was forced to lean for support on a table. 

"Yes, at night, your excellency, " answered Gregory quietly; "and since, as you say, I have begun to mix myself up in a bad business, I mustgo on with it; besides, even if there were to result from it anotherpunishment for me, even more terrible than that I have already endured, I should not allow so good, a master to be deceived any longer. "

"Be very careful about what you are going to say, slave; for I know themen of your nation. Take care, if the accusation you are making by wayof revenge is not supported by visible, palpable, and positive proofs, you shall be punished as an infamous slanderer. "

"To that I agree, " said Gregory. 

"Do you affirm that you have seen Foedor enter my daughter's chamber atnight?"

"I do not say that I have seen him enter it, your excellency. I say thatI have seen him come out. "

"When was that?"

"A quarter of an hour ago, when I was on my way to your excellency. "

"You lie!" said the general, raising his fist. 

"This is not our agreement, your excellency, " said the slave, drawingback. "I am only to be punished if I fail to give proofs. "

"But what are your proofs?"

"I have told you. "

"And do you expect me to believe your word alone?"

"No; but I expect you to believe your own eyes. "

"How?"

"The first time that Mr. Foedor is in my lady Vaninka's room aftermidnight, I shall come to find your excellency, and then you can judgefor yourself if I lie; but up to the present, your excellency, all theconditions of the service I wish to render you are to my disadvantage. "

"In what way?"

"Well, if I fail to give proofs, I am to be treated as an infamousslanderer; but if I give them, what advantage shall I gain?"

"A thousand roubles and your freedom. "

"That is a bargain, then, your excellency, " replied Gregory quietly, replacing the razors on the general's toilet-table, "and I hope thatbefore a week has passed you will be more just to me than you are now. "

With these words the slave left the room, leaving the general convincedby his confidence that some dreadful misfortune threatened him. 

From this time onward, as might be expected, the general weighed everyword and noticed every gesture which passed between Vaninka and Foedorin his presence; but he saw nothing to confirm his suspicions on thepart of the aide-de-camp or of his daughter; on the contrary, Vaninkaseemed colder and more reserved than ever. 

A week passed in this way. About two o'clock in the morning of the ninthday, someone knocked at the general's door. It was Gregory. 

"If your excellency will go into your daughter's room, " said Gregory, "you will find Mr. Foedor there. "

The general turned pale, dressed himself without uttering a word, andfollowed the slave to the door of Vaninka's room. Having arrived there, with a motion of his hand he dismissed the informer, who, instead ofretiring in obedience to this mute command, hid himself in the corner ofthe corridor. 

When the general believed himself to be alone, he knocked once; but allwas silent. This silence, however, proved nothing; for Vaninka mightbe asleep. He knocked a second time, and the young girl, in a perfectlycalm voice, asked, "Who is there?"

"It is I, " said the general, in a voice trembling with emotion. 

"Annouschka!" said the girl to her foster-sister, who slept in theadjoining room, "open the door to my father. Forgive me, father, "she continued; "but Annouschka is dressing, and will be with you in amoment. "

The general waited patiently, for he could discover no trace of emotionin his daughter's voice, and he hoped that Gregory had been mistaken. 

In a few moments the door opened, and the general went in, and cast along look around him; there was no one in this first apartment. 

Vaninka was in bed, paler perhaps than usual, but quite calm, with theloving smile on her lips with which she always welcomed her father. 

"To what fortunate circumstance, " asked the young girl in her softesttones, "do I owe the pleasure of seeing you at so late an hour?"

"I wished to speak to you about a very important matter, " said thegeneral, "and however late it was, I thought you would forgive me fordisturbing you. "

"My father will always be welcome in his daughter's room, at whateverhour of the day or night he presents himself there. "

The general cast another searching look round, and was convinced thatit was impossible for a man to be concealed in the first room--but thesecond still remained. 

"I am listening, " said Vaninka, after a moment of silence. 

"Yes, but we are not alone, " replied the general, "and it is importantthat no other ears should hear what I have to say to you. "

"Annauschka, as you know, is my foster-sister, " said Vaninka. 

"That makes no difference, " said the general, going candle in handinto the next room, which was somewhat smaller than his daughter's. "Annouschka, " said he, "watch in the corridor and see that no oneoverhears us. "

As he spoke these words, the general threw the same scrutinizing glanceall round the room, but with the exception of the young girl there wasno one there. 

Annouschka obeyed, and the general followed her out, and, lookingeagerly round for the last time, re-entered his daughter's room, andseated himself on the foot of her bed. Annouschka, at a sign from hermistress, left her alone with her father. The general held out his handto Vaninka, and she took it without hesitation. 

"My child, " said the general, "I have to speak to you about a veryimportant matter. "

"What is it, father?" said Vaninka. 

"You will soon be eighteen, " continued the general, "and that is theage at which the daughters of the Russian nobility usually marry. " Thegeneral paused for a moment to watch the effect of these words uponVaninka, but her hand rested motionless in his. "For the last year yourhand has been engaged by me, " continued the general. 

"May I know to whom?" asked Vaninka coldly. 

"To the son of the Councillor-in-Ordinary, " replied the general. "Whatis your opinion of him?"

"He is a worthy and noble young man, I am told, but I can have formed noopinion except from hearsay. Has he not been in garrison at Moscow forthe last three months?"

"Yes, " said the general, "but in three months' time he should return. "

Vaninka remained silent. 

"Have you nothing to say in reply?" asked the general. 

"Nothing, father; but I have a favour to ask of you. "

"What is it?"

"I do not wish to marry until I am twenty years old. "

"Why not?"

"I have taken a vow to that effect. "

"But if circumstances demanded the breaking of this vow, and made thecelebration of this marriage imperatively necessary?"

"What circumstances?" asked Vaninka. 

"Foedor loves you, " said the general, looking steadily at Vaninka. 

"I know that, " said Vaninka, with as little emotion as if the questiondid not concern her. 

"You know that!" cried the general. 

"Yes; he has told me so. "

"When?"

"Yesterday. "

"And you replied--?"

"That he must leave here at once. "

"And he consented?"

"Yes, father. "

"When does he go?"

"He has gone. "

"How can that be?" said the general: "he only left me at ten o'clock. "

"And he left me at midnight, " said Vaninka. 

"Ah!" said the general, drawing a deep breath of relief, "you are anoble girl, Vaninka, and I grant you what you ask-two years more. Butremember it is the emperor who has decided upon this marriage. "

"My father will do me the justice to believe that I am too submissive adaughter to be a rebellious subject. "

"Excellent, Vaninka, excellent, " said the general. "So, then, poorFoedor has told you all?"

"Yes, " said Vaninka. 

"You knew that he addressed himself to me first?"

"I knew it. "

"Then it was from him that you heard that your hand was engaged?"

"It was from him. "

"And he consented to leave you? He is a good and noble young man, whoshall always be under my protection wherever he goes. Oh, if my word hadnot been given, I love him so much that, supposing you did not dislikehim, I should have given him your hand. "

"And you cannot recall your promise?" asked Vaninka. 

"Impossible, " said the general. 

"Well, then, I submit to my father's will, " said Vaninka. 

"That is spoken like my daughter, " said the general, embracing her. "Farewell, Vaninka; I do not ask if you love him. You have both doneyour duty, and I have nothing more to exact. "

With these words, he rose and left the room. Annouschka was in thecorridor; the general signed to her that she might go in again, and wenton his way. At the door of his room he found Gregory waiting for him. 

"Well, your excellency?" he asked. 

"Well, " said the general, "you are both right and wrong. Foedor loves mydaughter, but my daughter does not love him. He went into my daughter'sroom at eleven o'clock, but at midnight he left her for ever. No matter, come to me tomorrow, and you shall have your thousand roubles and yourliberty. "

Gregory went off, dumb with astonishment. 

Meanwhile, Annouschka had re-entered her mistress's room, as she hadbeen ordered, and closed the door carefully behind her. 

Vaninka immediately sprang out of bed and went to the door, listeningto the retreating footsteps of the general. When they had ceased to beheard, she rushed into Annouschka's room, and both began to pull aside abundle of linen, thrown down, as if by accident, into the embrasure of awindow. Under the linen was a large chest with a spring lock. Annouschkapressed a button, Vaninka raised the lid. The two women uttered a loudcry: the chest was now a coffin; the young officer, stifled for want ofair, lay dead within. 

For a long time the two women hoped it was only a swoon. Annouschkasprinkled his face with water; Vaninka put salts to his nose. All wasin vain. During the long conversation which the general had had with hisdaughter, and which had lasted more than half an hour, Foedor, unableto get out of the chest, as the lid was closed by a spring, had diedfor want of air. The position of the two girls shut up with a corpsewas frightful. Annouschka saw Siberia close at hand; Vaninka, to do herjustice, thought of nothing but Foedor. Both were in despair. However, as the despair of the maid was more selfish than that of her mistress, it was Annouschka who first thought of a plan of escaping from thesituation in which they were placed. 

"My lady, " she cried suddenly, "we are saved. " Vaninka raised her headand looked at her attendant with her eyes bathed in tears. 

"Saved?" said she, "saved? We are, perhaps, but Foedor!"

"Listen now, " said Annouschka: "your position is terrible, I grantthat, and your grief is great; but your grief could be greater and yourposition more terrible still. If the general knew this. "

"What difference would it make to me?" said Vaninka. "I shall weep forhim before the whole world. "

"Yes, but you will be dishonoured before the whole world! To-morrow yourslaves, and the day after all St. Petersburg, will know that a man diedof suffocation while concealed in your chamber. Reflect, my lady: yourhonour is the honour of your father, the honour of your family. "

"You are right, " said Vaninka, shaking her head, as if to disperse thegloomy thoughts that burdened her brain, --"you are right, but what mustwe do?"

"Does my lady know my brother Ivan?"

"Yes. "

"We must tell him all. "

"Of what are you thinking?" cried Vaninka. "To confide in a man? A man, do I say? A serf! a slave!"

"The lower the position of the serf and slave, the safer will our secretbe, since he will have everything to gain by keeping faith with us. "

"Your brother is a drunkard, " said Vaninka, with mingled fear anddisgust. 

"That is true, " said Annouschka; "but where will you find a slave who isnot? My brother gets drunk less than most, and is therefore more to betrusted than the others. Besides, in the position in which we are wemust risk something. "

"You are right, " said Vaninka, recovering her usual resolution, whichalways grew in the presence of danger. "Go and seek your brother. "

"We can do nothing this morning, " said Annouschka, drawing back thewindow curtains. "Look, the dawn is breaking. "

"But what can we do with the body of this unhappy man?" cried Vaninka. 

"It must remain hidden where it is all day, and this evening, while youare at the Court entertainment, my brother shall remove it. "

"True, " murmured Vaninka in a strange tone, "I must go to Court thisevening; to stay away would arouse suspicion. Oh, my God! my God!"

"Help me, my lady, " said Annouschka; "I am not strong enough alone. "

Vaninka turned deadly pale, but, spurred on by the danger, she wentresolutely up to the body of her lover; then, lifting it by theshoulders, while her maid raised it by the legs, she laid it once morein the chest. Then Annouschka shut down the lid, locked the chest, andput the key into her breast. Then both threw back the linen whichhad hidden it from the eyes of the general. Day dawned, as might beexpected, ere sleep visited the eyes of Vaninka. 

She went down, however, at the breakfast hour; for she did not wish toarouse the slightest suspicion in her father's mind. Only it might havebeen thought from her pallor that she had risen from the grave, but thegeneral attributed this to the nocturnal disturbance of which he hadbeen the cause. 

Luck had served Vaninka wonderfully in prompting her to say that Foedorhad already gone; for not only did the general feel no surprise whenhe did not appear, but his very absence was a proof of his daughter'sinnocence. The general gave a pretext for his aide-de-camp's absence bysaying that he had sent him on a mission. As for Vaninka, she remainedout of her room till it was time to dress. A week before, she had beenat the Court entertainment with Foedor. 

Vaninka might have excused herself from accompanying her father byfeigning some slight indisposition, but two considerations made her fearto act thus: the first was the fear of making the general anxious, and perhaps of making him remain at home himself, which would make theremoval of the corpse more difficult; the second was the fear of meetingIvan and having to blush before a slave. She preferred, therefore, tomake a superhuman effort to control herself; and, going up again intoher room, accompanied by her faithful Annouschka, she began to dresswith as much care as if her heart were full of joy. When this cruelbusiness was finished, she ordered Annouschka to shut the door; for shewished to see Foedor once more, and to bid a last farewell to him whohad been her lover. Annouschka obeyed; and Vaninka, with flowers in herhair and her breast covered with jewels, glided like a phantom into herservant's room. 

Annouschka again opened the chest, and Vaninka, without shedding atear, without breathing a sigh, with the profound and death-like calm ofdespair, leant down towards Foedor and took off a plain ring whichthe young man had on his finger, placed it on her own, between twomagnificent rings, then kissing him on the brow, she said, "Goodbye, mybetrothed. "

At this moment she heard steps approaching. It was a groom of thechambers coming from the general to ask if she were ready. Annouschkalet the lid of the chest fall, and Vaninka going herself to open thedoor, followed the messenger, who walked before her, lighting the way. 

Such was her trust in her foster-sister that she left her to accomplishthe dark and terrible task with which she had burdened herself. 

A minute later, Annouschka saw the carriage containing the general andhis daughter leave by the main gate of the hotel. 

She let half an hour go by, and then went down to look for Ivan. Shefound him drinking with Gregory, with whom the general had kept hisword, and who had received the same day one thousand roubles andhis liberty. Fortunately, the revellers were only beginning theirrejoicings, and Ivan in consequence was sober enough for his sister toentrust her secret to him without hesitation. 

Ivan followed Annouschka into the chamber of her mistress. There shereminded him of all that Vaninka, haughty but generous, had allowedhis sister to do for him. The few glasses of brandy Ivan had alreadyswallowed had predisposed him to gratitude (the drunkenness of theRussian is essentially tender). Ivan protested his devotion so warmlythat Annouschka hesitated no longer, and, raising the lid of the chest, showed him the corpse of Foedor. At this terrible sight Ivan remainedan instant motionless, but he soon began to calculate how much money andhow many benefits the possession of such a secret would bring him. He swore by the most solemn oaths never to betray his mistress, and offered, as Annouschka had hoped, to dispose of the body of theunfortunate aide-decamp. 

The thing was easily done. Instead of returning to drink with Gregoryand his comrades, Ivan went to prepare a sledge, filled it with straw, and hid at the bottom an iron crowbar. He brought this to the outsidegate, and assuring himself he was not being spied upon, he raised thebody of the dead man in his arms, hid it under the straw, and sat downabove it. He had the gate of the hotel opened, followed NiewskiStreet as far as the Zunamenie Church, passed through the shops in theRejestwenskoi district, drove the sledge out on to the frozen Neva, andhalted in the middle of the river, in front of the deserted church ofSte. Madeleine. There, protected by the solitude and darkness, hiddenbehind the black mass of his sledge, he began to break the ice, whichwas fifteen inches thick, with his pick. When he had made a large enoughhole, he searched the body of Foedor, took all the money he had abouthim, and slipped the body head foremost through the opening he had made. He then made his way back to the hotel, while the imprisoned currentof the Neva bore away the corpse towards the Gulf of Finland. An hourafter, a new crust of ice had formed, and not even a trace of theopening made by Ivan remained. 

At midnight Vaninka returned with her father. A hidden fever had beenconsuming her all the evening: never had she looked so lovely, and shehad been overwhelmed by the homage of the most distinguished noblesand courtiers. When she returned, she found Annouschka in the vestibulewaiting to take her cloak. As she gave it to her, Vaninka sent her oneof those questioning glances that seem to express so much. "It is done, "said the girl in a low voice. Vaninka breathed a sigh of relief, as ifa mountain had been removed from her breast. Great as was herself-control, she could no longer bear her father's presence, andexcused herself from remaining to supper with him, on the plea of thefatigues of the evening. Vaninka was no sooner in her room, with thedoor once closed, than she tore the flowers from her hair, the necklacefrom her throat, cut with scissors the corsets which suffocated her, andthen, throwing herself on her bed, she gave way to her grief. Annouschkathanked God for this outburst; her mistress's calmness had frightenedher more than her despair. The first crisis over, Vaninka was able topray. She spent an hour on her knees, then, yielding to the entreatiesof her faithful attendant, went to bed. Annouschka sat down at the footof the bed. 

Neither slept, but when day came the tears which Vaninka had shed hadcalmed her. 

Annouschka was instructed to reward her brother. Too large a sum givento a slave at once might have aroused suspicion, therefore Annouschkacontented herself with telling Ivan that when he had need of money hehad only to ask her for it. 

Gregory, profiting by his liberty and wishing to make use of histhousand roubles, bought a little tavern on the outskirts of the town, where, thanks to his address and to the acquaintances he had among theservants in the great households of St. Petersburg, he began to developan excellent business, so that in a short time the Red House (which wasthe name and colour of Gregory's establishment) had a great reputation. Another man took over his duties about the person of the general, andbut for Foedor's absence everything returned to its usual routine in thehouse of Count Tchermayloff. 

Two months went by in this way, without anybody having the leastsuspicion of what had happened, when one morning before the usualbreakfast-hour the general begged his daughter to come down to hisroom. Vaninka trembled with fear, for since that fatal night everythingterrified her. She obeyed her father, and collecting all her strength, made her way to his chamber, The count was alone, but at the firstglance Vaninka saw she had nothing to fear from this interview: thegeneral was waiting for her with that paternal smile which was the usualexpression of his countenance when in his daughter's presence. 

She approached, therefore, with her usual calmness, and, stooping downtowards the general, gave him her forehead to kiss. 

He motioned to her to sit down, and gave her an open letter. Vaninkalooked at him for a moment in surprise, then turned her eyes to theletter. 

It contained the news of the death of the man to whom her hand had beenpromised: he had been killed in a duel. 

The general watched the effect of the letter on his daughter's face, andgreat as was Vaninka's self-control, so many different thoughts, suchbitter regret, such poignant remorse assailed her when she learnt thatshe was now free again, that she could not entirely conceal her emotion. The general noticed it, and attributed it to the love which he had for along time suspected his daughter felt for the young aide-de-camp. 

"Well, " he said, smiling, "I see it is all for the best. "

"How is that, father?" asked Vaninka. 

"Doubtless, " said the general. "Did not Foedor leave because he lovedyou?"

"Yes, " murmured the young girl. 

"Well, now he may return, " said the general. 

Vaninka remained silent, her eyes fixed, her lips trembling. 

"Return!" she said, after a moment's silence. 

"Yes, certainly return. We shall be most unfortunate, " continued thegeneral, smiling, "if we cannot find someone in the house who knowswhere he is. Come, Vaninka, tell me the place of his exile, and I willundertake the rest. "

"Nobody knows where Foedor is, " murmured Vaninka in a hollow voice;"nobody but God, nobody!"

"What!" said the general, "he has sent you no news since the day heleft?"

Vaninka shook her head in denial. She was so heart-broken that she couldnot speak. 

The general in his turn became gloomy. "Do you fear some misfortune, then?" said he. 

"I fear that I shall never be happy again on earth, " cried Vaninka, giving way under the pressure of her grief; then she continued at once, "Let me retire, father; I am ashamed of what I have said. "

The general, who saw nothing in this exclamation beyond regret forhaving allowed the confession of her love to escape her, kissed hisdaughter on the brow and allowed her to retire. He hoped that, in spiteof the mournful way in which Vaninka had spoken of Foedor, that it wouldbe possible to find him. The same day he went to the emperor and toldhim of the love of Foedor for his daughter, and requested, since deathhad freed her from her first engagement, that he might dispose of herhand. The emperor consented, and the general then solicited a furtherfavour. Paul was in one of his kindly moods, and showed himself disposedto grant it. The general told him that Foedor had disappeared fortwo months; that everyone, even his daughter, was ignorant of hiswhereabouts, and begged him to have inquiries made. The emperorimmediately sent for the chief of police, and gave him the necessaryorders. 

Six weeks went by without any result. Vaninka, since the day when theletter came, was sadder and more melancholy than ever. Vainly from timeto time the general tried to make her more hopeful. Vaninka only shookher head and withdrew. The general ceased to speak, of Foedor. 

But it was not the same among the household. The young aide-de-camphad been popular with the servants, and, with the exception of Gregory, there was not a soul who wished him harm, so that, when it became knownthat he had not been sent on a mission, but had disappeared, the matterbecame the constant subject of conversation in the antechamber, thekitchen, and the stables. There was another place where people busiedthemselves about it a great deal--this was the Red House. 

From the day when he heard of Foedor's mysterious departure Gregoryhad his suspicions. He was sure that he had seen Foedor enter Vaninka'sroom, and unless he had gone out while he was going to seek the general, he did not understand why the latter had not found him in his daughter'sroom. Another thing occupied his mind, which it seemed to him mightperhaps have some connection with this event--the amount of money Ivanhad been spending since that time, a very extraordinary amount fora slave. This slave, however, was the brother of Vaninka's cherishedfoster-sister, so that, without being sure, Gregory already suspectedthe source from whence this money came. Another thing confirmed him inhis suspicions, which was that Ivan, who had not only remained his mostfaithful friend, but had become one of his best customers, never spokeof Foedor, held his tongue if he were mentioned in his presence, and toall questions, however pressing they were, made but one answer: "Let usspeak of something else. "

In the meantime the Feast of Kings arrived. This is a great day in St. Petersburg, for it is also the day for blessing the waters. 

As Vaninka had been present at the ceremony, and was fatigued afterstanding for two hours on the Neva, the general did not go out thatevening, and gave Ivan leave to do so. Ivan profited by the permissionto go to the Red House. 

There was a numerous company there, and Ivan was welcomed; for it wasknown that he generally came with full pockets. This time he did notbelie his reputation, and had scarcely arrived before he made thesorok-kopecks ring, to the great envy of his companions. 

At this warning sound Gregory hastened up with all possible deference, a bottle of brandy in each hand; for he knew that when Ivan summoned himhe gained in two ways, as innkeeper and as boon companion. Ivan didnot disappoint these hopes, and Gregory was invited to share in theentertainment. The conversation turned on slavery, and some of theunhappy men, who had only four days in the year of respite from theireternal labour, talked loudly of the happiness Gregory had enjoyed sincehe had obtained his freedom. 

"Bah!" said Ivan, on whom the brandy had begun to take effect, "thereare some slaves who are freer than their masters. "

"What do you mean?" said Gregory, pouring him out another glass ofbrandy. 

"I meant to say happier, " said Ivan quickly. 

"It is difficult to prove that, " said Gregory doubtingly. 

"Why difficult? Our masters, the moment they are born, are put into thehands of two or three pedants, one French, another German, and a thirdEnglish, and whether they like them or not, they must be content withtheir society till they are seventeen, and whether they wish to ornot, must learn three barbarous languages, at the expense of our nobleRussian tongue, which they have sometimes completely forgotten by thetime the others are acquired. Again, if one of them wishes for somecareer, he must become a soldier: if he is a sublieutenant, he is theslave of the lieutenant; if he is a lieutenant, he is the slave of thecaptain, and the captain of the major, and so on up to the emperor, whois nobody's slave, but who one fine day is surprised at the table, whilewalking, or in his bed, and is poisoned, stabbed, or strangled. If hechooses a civil career, it is much the same. He marries a wife, anddoes not love her; children come to him he knows not how, whom he has toprovide for; he must struggle incessantly to provide for his family ifhe is poor, and if he is rich to prevent himself being robbed by hissteward and cheated by his tenants. Is this life? While we, gentlemen, we are born, and that is the only pain we cost our mothers--all the restis the master's concern. He provides for us, he chooses our calling, always easy enough to learn if we are not quite idiots. Are we ill? Hisdoctor attends us gratis; it is a loss to him if we die. Are we well?We have our four certain meals a day, and a good stove to sleep near atnight. Do we fall in love? There is never any hindrance to our marriage, if the woman loves us; the master himself asks us to hasten ourmarriage, for he wishes us to have as many children as possible. Andwhen the children are born, he does for them in their turn all he hasdone for us. Can you find me many great lords as happy as their slaves?"

"All this is true, " said Gregory, pouring him out another glass ofbrandy; "but, after all, you are not free. "

"Free to do what?" asked Ivan. 

"Free to go where you will and when you will. "

"I am as free as the air, " replied Ivan. 

"Nonsense!" said Gregory. 

"Free as air, I tell you; for I have good masters, and above all a goodmistress, " continued Ivan, with a significant smile, "and I have only toask and it is done. "

"What! if after having got drunk here to-day, you asked to come backto-morrow to get drunk again?" said Gregory, who in his challenge toIvan did not forget his own interests, --"if you asked that?"

"I should come back again, " said Ivan. 

"To-morrow?" said Gregory. 

"To-morrow, the day after, every day if I liked. . . . "

"The fact is, Ivan is our young lady's favourite, " said another ofthe count's slaves who was present, profiting by his comrade Ivan'sliberality. 

"It is all the same, " said Gregory; "for supposing such permission weregiven you, money would soon run short. "

"Never!" said Ivan, swallowing another glass of brandy, "never will Ivanwant for money as long as there is a kopeck in my lady's purse. "

"I did not find her so liberal, " said Gregory bitterly. 

"Oh, you forget, my friend; you know well she does not reckon with herfriends: remember the strokes of the knout. "

"I have no wish to speak about that, " said Gregory. "I know that she isgenerous with blows, but her money is another thing. I have never seenthe colour of that. "

"Well, would you like to see the colour of mine?" said Ivan, gettingmore and more drunk. "See here, here are kopecks, sorok-kopecks, bluenotes worth five roubles, red notes worth twenty five roubles, andto-morrow, if you like, I will show you white notes worth fifty roubles. A health to my lady Vaninka!" And Ivan held out his glass again, andGregory filled it to the brim. 

"But does money, " said Gregory, pressing Ivan more and more, --"doesmoney make up for scorn?"

"Scorn!" said Ivan, --"scorn! Who scorns me? Do you, because you arefree? Fine freedom! I would rather be a well-fed slave than a free mandying of hunger. "

"I mean the scorn of our masters, " replied Gregory. 

"The scorn of our masters! Ask Alexis, ask Daniel there, if my ladyscorns me. "

"The fact is, " said the two slaves in reply, who both belonged to thegeneral's household, "Ivan must certainly have a charm; for everyonetalks to him as if to a master. "

"Because he is Annouschka's brother, " said Gregory, "and Annouschka ismy lady's foster-sister. "

"That may be so, " said the two slaves. 

"For that reason or for some other, " said Ivan; "but, in short, that isthe case. "

"Yes; but if your sister should die?" said Gregory. "Ah!"

"If my sister should die, that would be a pity, for she is a goodgirl. I drink to her health! But if she should die, that would make nodifference. I am respected for myself; they respect me because they fearme. "

"Fear my lord Ivan!" said Gregory, with a loud laugh. "It follows, then, that if my lord Ivan were tired of receiving orders, and gave them inhis turn, my lord Ivan would be obeyed. "

"Perhaps, " said Ivan. 

"He said 'perhaps, ' repeated Gregory, " laughing louder than ever, --"hesaid 'perhaps. ' Did you hear him?"

"Yes, " said the slaves, who had drunk so much that they could onlyanswer in monosyllables. 

"Well, I no longer say 'perhaps, ' I now say 'for certain. '"

"Oh, I should like to see that, " said Gregory; "I would give somethingto see that. "

"Well, send away these fellows, who are getting drunk like pigs, and fornothing, you will find. "

"For nothing?" said Gregory. "You are jesting. Do you think I shouldgive them drink for nothing?"

"Well, we shall see. How much would be their score, for your atrociousbrandy, if they drank from now till midnight, when you are obliged toshut up your tavern?"

"Not less than twenty roubles. "

"Here are thirty; turn there out, and let us remain by ourselves. "

"Friends, " said Gregory, taking out his watch as if to look at the time, "it is just upon midnight; you know the governor's orders, so you mustgo. " The men, habituated like all Russians to passive obedience, wentwithout a murmur, and Gregory found himself alone with Ivan and the twoother slaves of the general. 

"Well, here we are alone, " said Gregory. "What do you mean to do?"

"Well, what would you say, " replied Ivan, "if in spite of the late hourand the cold, and in spite of the fact that we are only slaves, my ladywere to leave her father's house and come to drink our healths?"

"I would say that you ought to take advantage of it, " said Gregory, shrugging his shoulders, "and tell her to bring at the same time abottle of brandy. There is probably better brandy in the general'scellar than in mine. "

"There is better, " said Ivan, as if he was perfectly sure of it, "and mylady shall bring you a bottle of it. "

"You are mad!" said Gregory. 

"He is mad!" repeated the other two slaves mechanically. 

"Oh, I am mad?" said Ivan. "Well, will you take a wager?"

"What will you wager?"

"Two hundred roubles against a year of free drinking in your inn. "

"Done!" said Gregory. 

"Are your comrades included?" said the two moujiks. 

"They are included, " said Ivan, "and in consideration of them we willreduce the time to six months. Is that agreed?"

"It is agreed, " said Gregory. 

The two who were making the wager shook hands, and the agreement wasperfected. Then, with an air of confidence, assumed to confound thewitnesses of this strange scene, Ivan wrapped himself in the fur coatwhich, like a cautious man, he had spread on the stove, and went out. 

At the end of half an hour he reappeared. 

"Well!" cried Gregory and the two slaves together. 

"She is following, " said Ivan. 

The three tipplers looked at one another in amazement, but Ivan quietlyreturned to his place in the middle of them, poured out a new bumper, and raising his glass, cried--

"To my lady's health! It is the least we can do when she is kind enoughto come and join us on so cold a night, when the snow is falling fast. "

"Annouschka, " said a voice outside, "knock at this door and ask Gregoryif he has not some of our servants with him. "

Gregory and the two other slaves looked at one another, stupefied: theyhad recognised Vaninka's voice. As for Ivan, he flung himself back inhis chair, balancing himself with marvellous impertinence. 

Annouschka opened the door, and they could see, as Ivan had said, thatthe snow was falling heavily. 

"Yes, madam, " said the girl; "my brother is there, with Daniel andAlexis. "

Vaninka entered. 

"My friends, " said she, with a strange smile, "I am told that you weredrinking my health, and I have come to bring you something to drink itagain. Here is a bottle of old French brandy which I have chosen for youfrom my father's cellar. Hold out your glasses. "

Gregory and the slaves obeyed with the slowness and hesitation ofastonishment, while Ivan held out his glass with the utmost effrontery. 

Vaninka filled them to the brim herself, and then, as they hesitated todrink, "Come, drink to my health, friends, " said she. 

"Hurrah!" cried the drinkers, reassured by the kind and familiar tone oftheir noble visitor, as they emptied their glasses at a draught. 

Vaninka at once poured them out another glass; then putting the bottleon the table, "Empty the bottle, my friends, " said she, "and do nottrouble about me. Annouschka and I, with the permission 2668 of themaster of the house, will sit near the stove till the storm is over. "

Gregory tried to rise and place stools near the stove, but whether hewas quite drunk or whether some narcotic had been mixed with the brandy, he fell back on his seat, trying to stammer out an excuse. 

"It is all right, " said Vaninka: "do not disturb yourselves; drink, myfriends, drink. "

The revellers profited by this permission, and each emptied the glassbefore him. Scarcely had Gregory emptied his before he fell forward onthe table. 

"Good!" said Vaninka to her maid in a low voice: "the opium is takingeffect. "

"What do you mean to do?" said Annouschka. 

"You will soon see, " was the answer. 

The two moujiks followed the example of the master of the house, andfell down side by side on the ground. Ivan was left struggling againstsleep, and trying to sing a drinking song; but soon his tongue refusedto obey him, his eyes closed in spite of him, and seeking the tune thatescaped him, and muttering words he was unable to pronounce, he fellfast asleep near his companions. 

Immediately Vaninka rose, fixed them with flashing eyes, and called themby name one after another. There was no response. 

Then she clapped her hands and cried joyfully, "The moment has come!"Going to the back of the room, she brought thence an armful of straw, placed it in a corner of the room, and did the same in the othercorners. She then took a flaming brand from the stove and set fire insuccession to the four corners of the room. 

"What are you doing?" said Annouschka, wild with terror, trying to stopher. 

"I am going to bury our secret in the ashes of this house, " answeredVaninka. 

"But my brother, my poor brother!" said the girl. 

"Your brother is a wretch who has betrayed me, and we are lost if we donot destroy him. "

"Oh, my brother, my poor brother!"

"You can die with him if you like, " said Vaninka, accompanying theproposal with a smile which showed she would not have been sorry ifAnnouschka had carried sisterly affection to that length. 

"But look at the fire, madam--the fire!"

"Let us go, then, " said Vaninka; and, dragging out the heart-brokengirl, she locked the door behind her and threw the key far away into thesnow. 

"In the name of Heaven, " said Annouschka, "let us go home quickly: Icannot gaze upon this awful sight!"

"No, let us stay here!" said Vaninka, holding her back with a graspof almost masculine strength. "Let us stay until the house falls in onthem, so that we may be certain that not one of them escapes. "

"Oh, my God!" cried Annouschka, falling on her knees, "have mercy uponmy poor brother, for death will hurry him unprepared into Thy presence. "

"Yes, yes, pray; that is right, " said Vaninka. "I wish to destroy theirbodies, not their souls. "

Vaninka stood motionless, her arms crossed, brilliantly lit up by theflames, while her attendant prayed. The fire did not last long: thehouse was wooden, with the crevices filled with oakum, like all those ofRussian peasants, so that the flames, creeping out at the four corners, soon made great headway, and, fanned by the wind, spread rapidly to allparts of the building. Vaninka followed the progress of the fire withblazing eyes, fearing to see some half-burnt spectral shape rush out ofthe flames. At last the roof fell in, and Vaninka, relieved of all fear, then at last made her way to the general's house, into which the twowomen entered without being seen, thanks to the permission Annouschkahad to go out at any hour of the day or night. 

The next morning the sole topic of conversation in St. Petersburg wasthe fire at the Red House. Four half-consumed corpses were dug out frombeneath the ruins, and as three of the general's slaves were missing, hehad no doubt that the unrecognisable bodies were those of Ivan, Daniel, and Alexis: as for the fourth, it was certainly that of Gregory. 

The cause of the fire remained a secret from everyone: the house wassolitary, and the snowstorm so violent that nobody had met the two womenon the deserted road. Vaninka was sure of her maid. Her secret then hadperished with Ivan. But now remorse took the place of fear: the younggirl who was so pitiless and inflexible in the execution of the deedquailed at its remembrance. It seemed to her that by revealing thesecret of her crime to a priest, she would be relieved of her terribleburden. She therefore sought a confessor renowned for his loftycharity, and, under the seal of confession, told him all. The priest washorrified by the story. Divine mercy is boundless, but human forgivenesshas its limits. He refused Vaninka the absolution she asked. Thisrefusal was terrible: it would banish Vaninka from the Holy Table; thisbanishment would be noticed, and could not fail to be attributed to someunheard-of and secret crime. Vaninka fell at the feet of the priest, andin the name of her father, who would be disgraced by her shame, beggedhim to mitigate the rigour of this sentence. 

The confessor reflected deeply, then thought he had found a way toobviate such consequences. It was that Vaninka should approach the HolyTable with the other young girls; the priest would stop before heras before all the others, but only say to her, "Pray and weep;" thecongregation, deceived by this, would think that she had received theSacrament like her companions. This was all that Vaninka could obtain. 

This confession took place about seven o'clock in the evening, and thesolitude of the church, added to the darkness of night, had given ita still more awful character. The confessor returned home, pale andtrembling. His wife Elizabeth was waiting for him alone. She had justput her little daughter Arina, who was eight years old, to bed in anadjoining room. When she saw her husband, she uttered a cry of terror, so changed and haggard was his appearance. The confessor tried toreassure her, but his trembling voice only increased her alarm. Sheasked the cause of his agitation; the confessor refused to tell her. Elizabeth had heard the evening before that her mother was ill; shethought that her husband had received some bad news. The day was Monday, which is considered an unlucky day among the Russians, and, going outthat day, Elizabeth had met a man in mourning; these omens were toonumerous and too strong not to portend misfortune. 

Elizabeth burst into tears, and cried out, "My mother is dead!"

The priest in vain tried to reassure her by telling her that hisagitation was not due to that. The poor woman, dominated by one idea, made no response to his protestations but this everlasting cry, "Mymother is dead!"

Then, to bring her to reason, the confessor told her that his emotionwas due to the avowal of a crime which he had just heard in theconfessional. But Elizabeth shook her head: it was a trick, she said, tohide from her the sorrow which had fallen upon her. Her agony, insteadof calming, became more violent; her tears ceased to flow, and werefollowed by hysterics. The priest then made her swear to keep thesecret, and the sanctity of the confession was betrayed. 

Little Arina had awakened at Elizabeth's cries, and being disturbed andat the same time curious as to what her parents were doing, she got up, went to listen at the door, and heard all. 

The day for the Communion came; the church of St. Simeon was crowded. Vaninka came to kneel at the railing of the choir. Behind her was herfather and his aides-de-camp, and behind them their servants. 

Arina was also in the church with her mother. The inquisitive childwished to see Vaninka, whose name she had heard pronounced that terriblenight, when her father had failed in the first and most sacred of theduties imposed on a priest. While her mother was praying, she left herchair and glided among the worshippers, nearly as far as the railing. 

But when she had arrived there, she was stopped by the group of thegeneral's servants. But Arina had not come so far to be, stopped soeasily: she tried to push between them, but they opposed her; shepersisted, and one of them pushed her roughly back. The child fell, struck her head against a seat, and got up bleeding and crying, "You arevery proud for a slave. Is it because you belong to the great lady whoburnt the Red House?"

These words, uttered in a loud voice, in the midst of the silencewhich preceded, the sacred ceremony, were heard by everyone. They wereanswered by a shriek. Vaninka had fainted. The next day the general, at the feet of Paul, recounted to him, as his sovereign and judge, thewhole terrible story, which Vaninka, crushed by her long struggle, hadat last revealed to him, at night, after the scene in the church. 

The emperor remained for a moment in thought at the end of this strangeconfession; then, getting up from the chair where he had been sittingwhile the miserable father told his story, he went to a bureau, andwrote on a sheet of paper the following sentence:

"The priest having violated what should have been inviolable, thesecrets of the confessional, is exiled to Siberia and deprived of hispriestly office. His wife will follow him: she is to be blamed for nothaving respected his character as a minister of the altar. The littlegirl will not leave her parents. 

"Annouschka, the attendant, will also go to Siberia for not having madeknown to her master his daughter's conduct. 

"I preserve all my esteem for the general, and I mourn with him for thedeadly blow which has struck him. 

"As for Vaninka, I know of no punishment which can be inflicted uponher. I only see in her the daughter of a brave soldier, whose wholelife has been devoted to the service of his country. Besides, theextraordinary way in which the crime was discovered, seems to place theculprit beyond the limits of my severity. I leave her punishment inher own hands. If I understand her character, if any feeling of dignityremains to her, her heart and her remorse will show her the path sheought to follow. "

Paul handed the paper open to the general, ordering him to take it toCount Pahlen, the governor of St. Petersburg. 

On the following day the emperor's orders were carried out. 

Vaninka went into a convent, where towards the end of the same year shedied of shame and grief. 

The general found the death he sought on the field of Austerlitz.