ou a debt of gratitude," repeated the priest, again assuming all
responsibility.

"I am merely doing my duty," returned Ivan. "And I would add that if
you should be in any difficulty as to the necessary funds, which is
very likely, as the steward and bailiff have both made off, don't let
this for a moment distress you; I can lend you ten thousand florins."

The Abbe Samuel whispered to the countess to accept this offer in the
spirit in which it was meant, and on no account to say anything of
interest.

Theudelinde accordingly held out her hand with gracious dignity to her
chivalrous neighbor, who drew from his pocket the money in bank-notes.
The countess wished to give him an acknowledgment, which he declined,
saying the money was lent for such a short time that it was not
necessary.

"And about leaving the castle," he said. "How soon do you start?"

"The sooner the better!" cried the countess.

"Then, if you will allow me to suggest a plan for accomplishing the
first stage of the journey, which is the difficult part of the
business, in the first place it will be necessary to pack up what you
need. Will you be good enough, countess, to select the trunks you mean
to bring? When this is done I will harness the horses; then we must
lock and seal the rooms, and my servants will watch them until you
send your proper people. This done, we can set out; and as we shall
have to pass the steward's house, we can call there, and look for any
books he may have for keeping the accounts of the estate. They would
be useful."

"I shall not go there; I don't want any accounts."

"Very good. Then we shall go straight to the inn in my village."

"What to do?"

"Because the post is there. We must get post-horses."

"And why post-horses? Cannot I drive my own horses?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because they are screws. They would not reach the next station."

"My horses! Why do you say they are screws?" asked the countess,
angrily.

"Because they are in bad condition."

"Bear!" thought Theudelinde. "He answers me so roughly."

"I shall not enter the inn," she said, determinedly. "I go nowhere
where men drink. Cannot I wait at your house until the horses are
changed?"

"Certainly. I am charmed to receive you, countess; only you will find
nothing suitable for you. I live alone _en garcon_."

"Oh, that does not matter," returned the countess, with an air of
indifference.

"Will you have the goodness, then," said Ivan,