uestions but led him to the table and seated
him; nor heeded, as he sent a servant for _vodka_, Burevsky's quick
glance round the board, and his low-voiced "All well."

A moment later, and the room was echoing to the rattle of knives and
forks and a conversation which, though lighter than before, was still
fitful and rather feverish in its rapid change of topic. It was the talk
of men keyed to an unbearable state of anticipation. Sergius presently
called Irina to sing Marie's song of the stirrup-cup from "The Boyar";
and fourteen hands applauded wildly as she smilingly climbed upon her
chair, and, holding the replenished glass in her right hand, began one
of the most successful solos in Ivan's opera.

She sang unaccompanied; but accompaniment was not missed. Save for her
voice, the room was absolutely still. Even Yevgeny, who had finished his
_zakouski_ and liqueur, pushed his broth away to listen undisturbed; and
the footmen, with a change of plates, stole about the room on tiptoe.
Irina's voice, nearing the climax of the solo, soared higher and fuller;
while Ivan, with sparkling eyes, awaited the moment when he should lead
the others into the rousing chorus that terminated the song. At that
moment there came a sudden trampling of heavy feet on the stairs
without, followed by a loud knock at the door, which, speedily thrown
open by Sosha, disclosed an officer and three gendarmes who, following
the sound of the singing, presently halted on the dining-room threshold,
evidently surprised at the scene before them.

Irina's voice broke off on an upper note, but she remained on her chair,
petrified by some powerful emotion that singularly resembled terror. Her
brother and his friends were, less conspicuously, in the same state. But
Ivan proved himself admirable. Rising, quietly, he went forward, and
asked, in a voice of mingled surprise and dignity:

"Who are you, may I ask? and what can your errand be with me or with my
guests?"

The sergeant, after another long look around the room, consulted a paper
in his hand and asked, slowly:

"You are Monsieur Ivan Gregoriev?"

"I am."

"There are others here?"

"You see them."

"These are all, then?"

"I have two hired waiters and my own old servant in the kitchen."

"It's not them we want.--What are the names of these persons?"

"What right have you to ask? This house--"

"I am an officer in the service of the Czar. If you refuse to answer me
I must take you forci