ll hoping to see Your Majesty again."

The dinner was nearly over, and the Emperor, munching a biscuit, rose
and went out onto the balcony. The people, with Petya among them, rushed
toward the balcony.

"Angel! Dear one! Hurrah! Father!..." cried the crowd, and Petya with
it, and again the women and men of weaker mold, Petya among them, wept
with joy.

A largish piece of the biscuit the Emperor was holding in his hand broke
off, fell on the balcony parapet, and then to the ground. A coachman in
a jerkin, who stood nearest, sprang forward and snatched it up. Several
people in the crowd rushed at the coachman. Seeing this the Emperor had
a plateful of biscuits brought him and began throwing them down from
the balcony. Petya's eyes grew bloodshot, and still more excited by the
danger of being crushed, he rushed at the biscuits. He did not know why,
but he had to have a biscuit from the Tsar's hand and he felt that he
must not give way. He sprang forward and upset an old woman who was
catching at a biscuit; the old woman did not consider herself defeated
though she was lying on the ground--she grabbed at some biscuits but
her hand did not reach them. Petya pushed her hand away with his knee,
seized a biscuit, and as if fearing to be too late, again shouted
"Hurrah!" with a voice already hoarse.

The Emperor went in, and after that the greater part of the crowd began
to disperse.

"There! I said if only we waited--and so it was!" was being joyfully
said by various people.

Happy as Petya was, he felt sad at having to go home knowing that all
the enjoyment of that day was over. He did not go straight home from
the Kremlin, but called on his friend Obolenski, who was fifteen and was
also entering the regiment. On returning home Petya announced resolutely
and firmly that if he was not allowed to enter the service he would
run away. And next day, Count Ilya Rostov--though he had not yet quite
yielded--went to inquire how he could arrange for Petya to serve where
there would be least danger.

CHAPTER XXII

Two days later, on the fifteenth of July, an immense number of carriages
were standing outside the Sloboda Palace.

The great halls were full. In the first were the nobility and gentry in
their uniforms, in the second bearded merchants in full-skirted coats
of blue cloth and wearing medals. In the noblemen's hall there was
an incessant movement and buzz of voices. The chief magnates sat on
high-backed chai