red the promise made by the General to Prince K---. His action
was to remain unknown.

He got down to the bottom of the stairs, lowering himself as it were
from step to step, by the banister. Under the gate he regained much of
his firmness of thought and limb. He went out into the street without
staggering visibly. Every moment he felt steadier mentally. And yet
he was saying to himself that General T--- was perfectly capable of
shutting him up in the fortress for an indefinite time. His temperament
fitted his remorseless task, and his omnipotence made him inaccessible
to reasonable argument.

But when Razumov arrived at the Secretariat he discovered that he would
have nothing to do with General T---. It is evident from Mr. Razumov's
diary that this dreaded personality was to remain in the background. A
civilian of superior rank received him in a private room after a period
of waiting in outer offices where a lot of scribbling went on at many
tables in a heated and stuffy atmosphere.

The clerk in uniform who conducted him said in the corridor--

"You are going before Gregor Matvieitch Mikulin."

There was nothing formidable about the man bearing that name. His mild,
expectant glance was turned on the door already when Razumov entered.
At once, with the penholder he was holding in his hand, he pointed to a
deep sofa between two windows. He followed Razumov with his eyes while
that last crossed the room and sat down. The mild gaze rested on him,
not curious, not inquisitive--certainly not suspicious--almost
without expression. In its passionless persistence there was something
resembling sympathy.

Razumov, who had prepared his will and his intelligence to encounter
General T--- himself, was profoundly troubled. All the moral bracing
up against the possible excesses of power and passion went for nothing
before this sallow man, who wore a full unclipped beard. It was
fair, thin, and very fine. The light fell in coppery gleams on the
protuberances of a high, rugged forehead. And the aspect of the broad,
soft physiognomy was so homely and rustic that the careful middle
parting of the hair seemed a pretentious affectation.

The diary of Mr. Razumov testifies to some irritation on his part. I may
remark here that the diary proper consisting of the more or less daily
entries seems to have been begun on that very evening after Mr. Razumov
had returned home.

Mr. Razumov, then, was irritated. His strung-up individuality