ocate so well known for his famous exploits
with knife and fork. They had come naturally with all their bandages and
dressings, which made them look like glorious ruins. They brought the
greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still had a little fever, and of
Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian, who had both legs broken.

Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his last
drink of champagne. When nothing remained in the bottle and everyone
had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not start quite yet,
Athanase Georgevitch opened a second "last" bottle. It was then that
Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath. They invited him
to drink, and he accepted. But he had need to speak to Rouletabille in
private, and he drew the reporter, after excuses, out into the corridor.

"It is the Emperor himself who has sent me," said the high dignitary
with emotion. "He has sent me about the eider downs. You forgot to
explain the eider downs to him."

"Niet!" replied Rouletabille, laughing. "That is nothing. Nitchevo! His
Majesty's eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the feathers
that you have shown me demonstrates. Well, open them now. They are a
cheap imitation, as the second feather proves. The return of the
false eider downs, before evening, proves then that they hoped the
substitution would pass undetected. That is all. Caracho! Collapse of
the hoax. Your health! Vive le Tsar!"

"Caracho! Caracho!"

The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man and a
woman. It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.

Gounsovski stood on the running-board.

"Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands. You are very
congenial."

"Compliments, madame."

"Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house
yesterday."

"I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into
Finland. I do not regret it, monsieur."

The train trembled and moved. They cried, "Vive la France! Vive la
Russe!" Athanase Georgevitch wept. Matrena Petrovna, at a window of the
station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a handkerchief to the
little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see everything in the right
light, and whom she did not dare to embrace after the terrible affair of
the false poison and the Tsar's anger.

The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.

As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.

All the same, as the train took its way