ed Matrena
Petrovna bluntly; "that is the Tsar."

"Very well; say I have gone to interview the Tsar."

"But no one will believe that. And where will you be?"

"I do not know myself. But I will be about the house."

"Very well, very well, dear little domovoi."

She left him, not knowing what she thought about it all, nor what she
should think--her head was all in a muddle.

In the course of the morning Athanase Georgevitch and Thaddeus
Tchnitchnikof arrived. The general was already in the veranda. Michael
and Boris arrived shortly after, and inquired in their turn how he had
passed the night without the police. When they were told that Feodor
was going for a promenade that afternoon they applauded his decision.
"Bravo! A promenade a la strielka (to the head of the island) at the
hour when all St. Petersburg is driving there. That is fine. We will all
be there." The general made them stay for luncheon. Natacha appeared for
the meal, in rather melancholy mood. A little before luncheon she had
held a double conversation in the garden with Michael and Boris. No one
ever could have known what these three young people had said if some
stenographic notes in Rouletabille's memorandum-book did not give us
a notion; the reporter had overheard, by accident surely, since all
self-respecting reporters are quite incapable of eavesdropping.

The memorandum notes:

Natacha went into the garden with a book, which she gave to Boris, who
pressed her hand lingeringly to his lips. "Here is your book; I return
it to you. I don't want any more of them, the ideas surge so in my
brain. It makes my head ache. It is true, you are right, I don't love
novelties. I can satisfy myself with Pouchkine perfectly. The rest are
all one to me. Did you pass a good night?"

Boris (good-looking young man, about thirty years old, blonde, a little
effeminate, wistful. A curious appurtenance in the military household of
so vigorous a general). "Natacha, there is not an hour that I can call
truly good if I spend it away from you, dear, dear Natacha."

"I ask you seriously if you have passed a good night?"

She touched his hand a moment and looked into his eyes, but he shook his
head.

"What did you do last night after you reached home?" she demanded
insistently. "Did you stay up?"

"I obeyed you; I only sat a half-hour by the window looking over here at
the villa, and then I went to bed."

"Yes, it is necessary you should get your rest. I wish it