an, and am liable to
yield to pity. They confide in me under certain conditions, and I, by
my actions, must prove that I am trustworthy. So this question is
settled. Well, now tell me what is going on at the metropolis?"

Then the general put various questions, as if he would like to learn
some news.

"Well, tell me now whom you are stopping with--at Duke's? It is
unpleasant there. Come to us to dinner," he said, finally, dismissing
Nekhludoff, "at five. Do you speak English?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, that is good. You see, there is an English traveler here. He is
studying the exile system, and the prisons in Siberia. So he will dine
with us, and you come, too. We dine at five, and madam wants us to be
punctual. I will let you know what will be done with that woman, and
also with the patient. Maybe it will be possible to leave somebody
with him."

Having taken leave of the general, Nekhludoff drove to the
postoffice. Receiving his mail, he walked up to a wooden bench, on
which a soldier was sitting, probably waiting for something; he sat
down beside him, and started to look through the letters. Among them
he found a registered letter in a beautiful, large envelope, with a
large seal of red wax on it. He tore open the envelope, and, seeing a
letter from Selenin with some official document, he felt the blood
mounting to his cheeks, and his heart grow weak. This document was the
decision concerning Katiousha's trial. What was it? Was it possible
that it contained a refusal? Nekhludoff hastily ran over the letter,
written in small, hardly legible, broken handwriting, and breathed
freely. The decision was a favorable one.

"Dear friend," wrote Selenin, "our last conversation made a strong
impression upon me. You were right concerning Maslova. I have looked
through the accusation. This could be corrected only through the
Commission for Petitions, to which you sent your petition. They let me
have a copy of the pardon, and here I send it to you, to the address
which the Countess Catherine Ivanovna gave me. I press your hand in
friendship."

The news was pleasant and important. All that Nekhludoff could wish
for Katiousha and himself was realized. True, those changes in his
life changed his relations to her. But now, he thought, all that was
most important was to see her as quick as possible and bring her the
good news of her freedom. He thought that the copy he had in his hand
was sufficient for that. So he bade the cabma