gerdemain, it is certain
that his object lies beyond the act itself, beyond the bomb, beyond
the poison. Why all this necessity for bombs of deferred explosion, for
clockwork placed where it will be confused with other things, and not on
a bare staircase forbidden to everybody, though you visit it twenty times
a day?"

"But this man comes in as he pleases by day and by night? You don't
answer. You know who he is, perhaps?"

"I know him, perhaps, but I am not sure who it is yet."

"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house,
certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because
someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky
Villa! Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don't they
kill poor Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are
soldiers--soldiers who come at night to kill their general. Aided by--by
whom? Do you believe that? You? Light of my eyes! you believe that! No,
no, that is not possible! I want you to understand, monsieur le domovoi,
that I am not able to believe anything so horrible. No, no, by Jesus
Christ Who died on the Cross, and Who searches our hearts, I do not
believe that Boris--who, however, has very advanced ideas, I admit--it
is necessary not to forget that; very advanced; and who composes very
advanced verses also, as I have always told him--I will not believe that
Boris is capable of such a fearful crime. As to Michael, he is an honest
man, and my daughter, my Natacha, is an honest girl. Everything looks
very bad, truly, but I do not suspect either Michael or Boris or my pure
and beloved Natacha (even though she has made a translation into French
of very advanced verses, certainly most improper for the daughter of a
general). That is what lies at the bottom of my mind, the bottom of my
heart--you have understood me perfectly, little angel of paradise? Ah,
it is you the general owes his life to, that Matrena owes her life.
Without you this house would already be a coffin. How shall I ever
reward you? You wish for nothing! I annoy you! You don't even listen to
me! A coffin--we would all be in our coffins! Tell me what you desire.
All that I have belongs to you!"

"I desire to smoke a pipe.

"Ah, a pipe! Do you want some yellow perfumed tobacco that I receive
every month from Constantinople, a treat right from the harem? I will
get enough for you, if you like it, to smoke ten thousand pipes full."

"I prefer caporal