ning love, nor telling when it merges
into hatred.

"Thursday evening, before dinner," said De Chauxville.

And he left her standing on the hearth-rug, her lips moving and framing
no words.

CHAPTER XXXIV

AN APPEAL

"Have you spoken to the princess?" asked Steinmetz, without taking the
cigar from his lips.

They were driving home through the forest that surrounded Osterno as the
sea surrounds an island. They were alone in the sleigh. That which they
had been doing had required no servant. Paul was driving, and
consequently the three horses were going as hard as they could. The snow
flew past their faces like the foam over the gunwale of a boat that is
thrashing into a ten-knot breeze. Yet it was not all snow. There were
flecks of foam from the horses' mouths mingled with it.

"Yes," answered Paul. His face was set and hard, his eyes stern. This
trouble with the peasants was affecting him more keenly than he
suspected. It was changing the man's face--drawing lines about his lips,
streaking his forehead with the marks of care. His position can hardly
be realized by an Englishman unless it be compared to that of the
captain of a great sinking ship full of human souls who have been placed
under his care.

"And what did she say?" asked Steinmetz.

"That she would not leave unless we all went with her."

Steinmetz drew the furs closer up round him.

"Yes," he said, glancing at his companion's face, and seeing little but
the eyes, by reason of the sable collar of his coat, which met the fur
of his cap; "yes, and why not?"

"I cannot leave them," answered Paul. "I cannot go away now that there
is trouble among them. What it is, goodness only knows! They would never
have got like this by themselves. Somebody has been at them, and I don't
think it is the Nihilists. It is worse than that. Some devil has been
stirring them up, and they know no better. He is still at it. They are
getting worse day by day, and I cannot catch him. If I do, by God!
Steinmetz, I'll twist his neck."

Steinmetz smiled grimly.

"Yes," he answered, "you are capable of it. For me, I am getting tired
of the moujik. He is an inveterate, incurable fool. If he is going to be
a dangerous fool as well, I should almost be inclined to let him go to
the devil in his own way."

"I dare say; but you are not in my position."

"No; that is true, Pavlo. They were not my father's serfs. Generations
of my ancestors have not saved generations o