ain pressing her to take another; he
also declared that he longed to lay his head on her knee; she would on
no account permit him 'such a liberty.' Elena seemed the most serious of
the party, but in her heart there was a wonderful sense of peace, such
as she had not known for long. She felt filled with boundless goodwill
and kindness, and wanted to keep not only Insarov, but Bersenyev too,
always at her side.... Andrei Petrovitch dimly understood what this
meant, and secretly he sighed.

The hours flew by; the evening was coming on. Anna Vassilyevna suddenly
took alarm. 'Ah, my dear friends, how late it is!' she cried. 'All
good things must have an end; it's time to go home.' She began bustling
about, and they all hastened to get up and walk towards the castle,
where the carriages were. As they walked past the lakes, they stopped
to admire Tsaritsino for the last time. The landscape on all sides
was glowing with the vivid hues of early evening; the sky was red, the
leaves were flashing with changing colours as they stirred in the rising
wind; the distant waters shone in liquid gold; the reddish turrets and
arbours scattered about the garden stood out sharply against the dark
green of the trees. 'Farewell, Tsaritsino, we shall not forget to-day's
excursion!' observed Anna Vassilyevna.... But at that instant, and as
though in confirmation of her words, a strange incident occurred, which
certainly was not likely to be forgotten.

This was what happened. Anna Vassilyevna had hardly sent her farewell
greeting to Tsaritsino, when suddenly, a few paces from her, behind
a high bush of lilac, were heard confused exclamations, shouts, and
laughter; and a whole mob of disorderly men, the same devotees of song
who had so energetically applauded Zoya, burst out on the path. These
musical gentlemen seemed excessively elevated. They stopped at the sight
of the ladies; but one of them, a man of immense height, with a bull
neck and a bull's goggle eyes, separated from his companions, and,
bowing clumsily and staggering unsteadily in his gait, approached Anna
Vassilyevna, who was petrified with alarm.

'_Bonzhoor, madame_,' he said thickly, 'how are you?'

Anna Vassilyevna started back.

'Why wouldn't you,' continued the giant in vile Russian, 'sing again
when our party shouted _bis_, and bravo?'

'Yes, why?' came from the ranks of his comrades.

Insarov was about to step forward, but Shubin stopped him, and himself
screened Anna