f the same material. Our ragged hosts received us with alacrity. I
learned afterwards that the Government supplies them with money and food
upon condition that they put up travellers who are overtaken by storm.

CHAPTER VIII

"ALL is for the best," I said, sitting down close by the fire. "Now you
will finish telling me your story about Bela. I am certain that what you
have already told me was not the end of it."

"Why are you so certain?" answered the staff-captain, winking and
smiling slyly.

"Because things don't happen like that. A story with such an unusual
beginning must also have an unusual ending."

"You have guessed, of course"...

"I am very glad to hear it."

"It is all very well for you to be glad, but, indeed, it makes me
sad when I think of it. Bela was a splendid girl. In the end I grew
accustomed to her just as if she had been my own daughter, and she loved
me. I must tell you that I have no family. I have had no news of my
father and mother for twelve years or so, and, in my earlier days, I
never thought of providing myself with a wife--and now, you know, it
wouldn't do. So I was glad to have found someone to spoil. She used to
sing to us or dance the Lezginka. [17].. And what a dancer she was! I
have seen our own ladies in provincial society; and on one occasion,
sir, about twenty years ago, I was even in the Nobles' Club at
Moscow--but was there a woman to be compared with her? Not one! Grigori
Aleksandrovich dressed her up like a doll, petted and pampered her, and
it was simply astonishing to see how pretty she grew while she lived
with us. The sunburn disappeared from her face and hands, and a rosy
colour came into her cheeks... What a merry girl she was! Always making
fun of me, the little rogue!... Heaven forgive her!"

"And when you told her of her father's death?"

"We kept it a secret from her for a long time, until she had grown
accustomed to her position; and then, when she was told, she cried for a
day or two and forgot all about it.

"For four months or so everything went on as well as it possibly
could. Grigori Aleksandrovich, as I think I have already mentioned, was
passionately fond of hunting; he was always craving to be off into the
forest after boars or wild goats--but now it would be as much as he
would do to go beyond the fortress rampart. All at once, however, I saw
that he was beginning again to have fits of abstraction, walking about
his room with his hands clasped