his eyes blazing, and surrounded by perplexed
lackeys.

The Prince was vexed beyond measure, and even indignant. But his humane
instincts and a subtle sense of self-respect could not allow him to
let this young man be thrown out into the street by base menials.
He retreated unseen into his room, and after a little rang his bell.
Razumov heard in the hall an ominously raised harsh voice saying
somewhere far away--

"Show the gentleman in here."

Razumov walked in without a tremor. He felt himself invulnerable--raised
far above the shallowness of common judgment. Though he saw the Prince
looking at him with black displeasure, the lucidity of his mind, of
which he was very conscious, gave him an extraordinary assurance. He was
not asked to sit down.

Half an hour later they appeared in the hall together. The lackeys stood
up, and the Prince, moving with difficulty on his gouty feet, was helped
into his furs. The carriage had been ordered before. When the great
double door was flung open with a crash, Razumov, who had been standing
silent with a lost gaze but with every faculty intensely on the alert,
heard the Prince's voice--

"Your arm, young man."

The mobile, superficial mind of the ex-Guards officer, man of showy
missions, experienced in nothing but the arts of gallant intrigue
and worldly success, had been equally impressed by the more obvious
difficulties of such a situation and by Razumov's quiet dignity in
stating them.

He had said, "No. Upon the whole I can't condemn the step you ventured
to take by coming to me with your story. It is not an affair for police
understrappers. The greatest importance is attached to.... Set
your mind at rest. I shall see you through this most extraordinary and
difficult situation."

Then the Prince rose to ring the bell, and Razumov, making a short bow,
had said with deference--

"I have trusted my instinct. A young man having no claim upon anybody
in the world has in an hour of trial involving his deepest political
convictions turned to an illustrious Russian--that's all."

The Prince had exclaimed hastily--

"You have done well."

In the carriage--it was a small brougham on sleigh runners--Razumov
broke the silence in a voice that trembled slightly.

"My gratitude surpasses the greatness of my presumption."

He gasped, feeling unexpectedly in the dark a momentary pressure on his
arm.

"You have done well," repeated the Prince.

When the carriage stopped the