riage, before
taking his place in society. He would write immediately to his father,
and hoped, that, if the news brought a storm, Mishka might be on hand to
divert its force, as on a former occasion.

Under the weight of this imminent secret, the Princess Martha could
neither eat nor sleep. Her body wasted to a shadow; at every noise in
the castle, she started and listened in terror, fearing that the news
had arrived.

Prince Boris, no doubt, found his courage fail him when he set about
writing the promised letter; for a fortnight elapsed before it made its
appearance. Prince Alexis received it on his return from the chase. He
read it hastily through, uttered a prolonged roar like that of a wounded
bull, and rushed into the castle. The sound of breaking furniture, of
crashing porcelain and shivered glass, came from the state apartments:
the domestics fell on their knees and prayed; the Princess, who heard
the noise and knew what it portended, became almost insensible from
fright.

One of the upper servants entered a chamber as the Prince was in the
act of demolishing a splendid malachite table, which had escaped all his
previous attacks. He was immediately greeted with a cry of,--

"Send the Princess to me!"

"Her Highness is not able to leave her chamber," the man replied.

How it happened he could never afterwards describe but he found himself
lying in a corner of the room. When he arose, there seemed to be a
singular cavity in his mouth: his upper front teeth were wanting.

We will not narrate what took place in the chamber of the Princess.

The nerves of the unfortunate woman had been so wrought upon by her
fears, that her husband's brutal rage, familiar to her from long
experience, now possessed a new and alarming significance. His threats
were terrible to hear; she fell into convulsions, and before morning her
tormented life was at an end.

There was now something else to think of, and the smashing of porcelain
and cracking of whips came to an end. The Archimandrite was summoned,
and preparations, both religious and secular, were made for a funeral
worthy the rank of the deceased. Thousands flocked to Kinesma; and when
the immense procession moved away from the castle, although very few
of the persons had ever known or cared in the least, for the Princess
Martha, all, without exception, shed profuse tears. Yes, there was
one exception,--one bare, dry rock, rising alone out of the universal
deluge,--Pri