tood furs. "But
I can mend the hole in five minutes, so that nobody will see it."

"We will get it, too. But I am afraid that it will not be nearly enough to
make up the twenty-five marks. They could not possibly give us twenty
marks for the skin, could they?"

"No, indeed, unless you could sell it to some one who does not understand
those things. And the samovar will not bring five, as I said. We must find
something else."

"Let us get the samovar first," said Vjera decisively. "I will wait
downstairs till you get it, and then you will wait for me where I live,
and after that we will go together. I may find something else. Indeed, I
must, or we shall not have enough."

They walked rapidly through the deepening shadows towards Schmidt's home.
Vjera moved, as people do, who are possessed by an idea which must be put
into immediate execution, her head high, her eyes full of light, her lips
set, her step firm. Her companion was surprised to find that he needed to
walk fast in order to keep by her side. He looked at her often, as he had
looked all day, with an expression that showed at once much interest,
considerable admiration and some pity. If he had not been lately brought
to some new opinion concerning the girl he would certainly not have
entered into her wild scheme for calming the Count's excitement without at
least arguing the case lengthily, and discussing all the difficulties
which presented themselves to his imagination. As it was, he felt himself
carried away by a sort of enthusiasm in her cause, which would have led
him to make even greater sacrifices than he had it in his power to offer.
So strong was this feeling that he felt called upon to make a sort of
apology.

"I am sorry I cannot do more to help you," he said regretfully. "It is
very little I know, but then, you see I am not alone in the world, Vjera.
There are others to be thought of. And besides, I have just paid the rent,
and there are no savings left."

"Dear Herr Schmidt," answered Vjera gratefully, "you are doing too much
already--but I cannot help taking all you give me, though I can thank you
for it with all my heart."

They did not speak again during the next few minutes, until they reached
the door of the house in which the Cossack lived.

"I shall only need a moment," he said, as he dived into the dark entrance.

He lost so little time, that it seemed to Vjera as though the echo of his
steps had not died away upon the stairs before