anished out of his eyes. He
leaned forward for a moment, with a quick, eager expression; then a loud
roar, like that of an enraged wild beast, burst from his mouth. He gave
a stamp that shook the balcony.

"Dog!" he cried to the trembling attendant, "my cap! my whip!"

The sables fell upon the floor, the cap and whip appeared in a
twinkling, and the red slumber-flag was folded up again for the first
time in several years, as the Prince stormed out of the castle. The
traveller below had heard the cry,--for it might have been heard half a
mile. He seemed to have presentiment of evil, for he had already set off
towards the town at full speed.

To explain the occurrence, we must mention one of the Prince's many
peculiar habits. This was, to invite strangers or merchants of the
neighborhood to dine with him, and, after regaling them bountifully, to
take his pay in subjecting them to all sorts of outrageous tricks, with
the help of his band of willing domestics. Now this particular merchant
had been invited, and had attended; but, being a very wide-awake, shrewd
person, he saw what was coming, and dexterously slipped away from the
banquet without being perceived. The prince vowed vengeance, on
discovering the escape, and he was not a man to forget his word.

[Footnote A: Little Boris.]

Impelled by such opposite passions, both parties ran with astonishing
speed. The merchant was the taller, but his long caftan, hastily
ungirdled, swung behind him and dragged in the air. The short, booted
legs of the Prince beat quicker time, and he grasped his short, heavy,
leathern whip more tightly as he saw the space diminishing. They dashed
into the town of Kinesma a hundred yards apart. The merchant entered
the main street, or bazaar, looking rapidly to right and left, as he
ran, in the hope of espying some place of refuge. The terrible voice
behind him cried,--

"Stop, scoundrel! I have a crow to pick with you!"

And the tradesmen in their shops looked on and laughed, as well they
might, being unconcerned spectators of the fun. The fugitive, therefore,
kept straight on, notwithstanding a pond of water glittered across the
farther end of the street.

Although Prince Alexis had gained considerably in the race, such violent
exercise, after a heavy dinner, deprived him of breath. He again
cried,--

"Stop!"

But the merchant answered,--

"No, Highness! You may come to me, but I will not go to you."

"Oh, the villain!" growled