, stood the church, glittering with
its dozen bulging, golden domes. These two establishments divided the
sovereignty of Kinesma between them.

Prince Alexis owned the bodies of the inhabitants, (with the exception
of a few merchants and tradesmen,) and the Archimandrite Sergius owned
their souls. But the shadow of the former stretched also over other
villages, far beyond the ring of the wooded horizon. The number of his
serfs was ten thousand, and his rule over them was even less disputed
than theirs over their domestic animals.

The inhabitants of the place had noticed with dismay that the
slumber-flag had not been hoisted on the castle, although it was half an
hour after the usual time. So rare a circumstance betokened sudden wrath
or disaster, on the part of Prince Alexis. Long experience had prepared
the people for anything that might happen, and they were consequently
not astonished at the singular event which presently transpired.

The fact is, that in the first place, the dinner had been prolonged full
ten minutes beyond its accustomed limit, owing to a discussion between
the Prince, his wife, the Princess Martha, and their son Prince Boris.
The last was to leave for St. Petersburg in a fortnight, and wished to
have his departure preceded by a festival at the castle. The Princess
Martha was always ready to second the desires of her only child. Between
the two they had pressed some twenty or thirty thousand rubles out
of the old Prince, for the winter diversions of the young one. The
festival, to be sure, would have been a slight expenditure for a noble
of such immense wealth as Prince Alexis; but he never liked his wife,
and he took a stubborn pleasure in thwarting her wishes. It was no
satisfaction that Boris resembled her in character. That weak successor
to the sovereignty of Kinesma preferred a game of cards to a bear hunt,
and could never drink more than a quart of vodki without becoming dizzy
and sick.

"Ugh!" Prince Alexis would cry, with a shudder of disgust, "the whelp
barks after the dam!"

A state dinner he might give; but a festival, with dances, dramatic
representations, burning tar-barrels, and cannon,--no! He knitted
his heavy brows and drank deeply, and his fiery gray eyes shot such
incessant glances from side to side that Boris and the Princess Martha
could not exchange a single wink of silent advice. The pet bear, Mishka,
plied with strong wines, which Prince Alexis poured out for him into