ng him in a position
which was not only intensely disagreeable, but also somewhat ridiculous.
For he did not dare to tell his friends of these things. He had spoken
of them to no man except Karl Steinmetz, who was in a sense his
dependent. English public school and university had instilled into him
the intensely British feeling of shame respecting good works. He could
take chaff as well as any man, for he was grave by habit, and a grave
man receives the most chaff most good-humoredly. But he had a nervous
dread of being found out. He had made a sort of religion of suppressing
the fact that he was a prince; the holy of holies of this cult was the
fact that he was a prince who sought to do good to his neighbor--a
prince in whom one might repose trust.

This was not the first time by any number that he had gone down into his
own village insisting in a rough-and-ready way on cleanliness and
purity.

"The Moscow doctor"--the peasants would say in the kabak over their
vodka and their tea--"the Moscow doctor comes in and kicks our beds out
of the door. He comes in and throws our furniture into the street But
afterward he gives us new beds and new furniture."

It was a joke that always obtained in the kabak. It flavored the vodka,
and with that fiery poison served to raise a laugh.

The Moscow doctor was looked upon in Osterno and in many neighboring
villages as second only to God. In fact, many of the peasants placed him
before their Creator. They were stupid, vodka-soddened, hapless men. The
Moscow doctor they could see for themselves. He came in, a very tangible
thing of flesh and blood, built on a large and manly scale; he took them
by the shoulders and bundled them out of their own houses, kicking their
bedding after them. He scolded them, he rated them and abused them. He
brought them food and medicine. He understood the diseases which from
time to time swept over their villages. No cold was too intense for him
to brave should they be in distress. He asked no money, and he gave
none. But they lived on his charity, and they were wise enough to know
it.

What wonder if these poor wretches loved the man whom they could see and
hear above the God who manifested himself to them in no way! The
orthodox priests of their villages had no money to spend on their
parishioners. On the contrary, they asked for money to keep the churches
in repair. What wonder, then, if these poor ignorant, helpless peasants
would listen to no pr