here. That is the
countersign. We have watched enough. Since the police are gone we can
all sleep, believe me, general."

"Eh, eh, I believe you, on my word, easily enough. There were only they
in the house capable of attempting that affair of the bouquet. I
have thought that all out, and now I am at ease. And anyway, whatever
happens, it is necessary to get sleep, isn't it? The chances of war!
Nichevo!" He pressed Rouletabille's hand, and Matrena Petrovna took,
as was her habit, Feodor Feodorovitch on her back and lugged him to his
chamber. In that also she refused aid from anyone. The general clung to
his wife's neck during the ascent and laughed like a child. Rouletabille
remained in the hallway, watching the garden attentively. Ermolai walked
out of the villa and crossed the garden, going to meet a personage in
uniform whom the young man recognized immediately as the grand-marshal
of the court, who had introduced him to the Tsar. Ermolai informed him
that Madame Matrena was engaged in helping her husband retire, and the
marshal remained at the end of the garden where he had found Michael and
Boris talking in the kiosque. All three remained there for some time
in conversation, standing by a table where General and Madame Trebassof
sometimes dined when they had no guests. As they talked the marshal
played with a box of white cardboard tied with a pink string. At this
moment Matrena, who had not been able to resist the desire to talk for
a moment with Rouletabille and tell him how happy she was, rejoined the
young man.

"Little domovoi," said she, laying her hand on his shoulder, "you have
not watched on this side?"

She pointed in her turn to the dining-room.

"No, no. You have seen it, madame, and I am sufficiently informed."

"Perfectly. There is nothing. No one has worked there! No one has
touched the board. I knew it. I am sure of it. It is dreadful what we
have thought about it! Oh, you do not know how relieved and happy I
am. Ah, Natacha, Natacha, I have not loved you in vain. (She pronounced
these words in accents of great beauty and tragic sincerity.) When I saw
her leave us, my dear, ah, my legs sank under me. When she said, 'I have
forgotten something; I must hurry back,' I felt I had not the strength
to go a single step. But now I certainly am happy, that weight at least
is off my heart, off my heart, dear little domovoi, because of you,
because of you."

She embraced him, and then ran away, like one