perfectly true.

I follow here the tale as told afterwards by the servant to my
grand-uncle's friends and relatives, and as I have heard it repeated.

On receiving this answer the Cossack officer, who had been standing in
the porch, stepped into the house.

"Where is the master gone, then?"

"Our master went to J--" (the government town some fifty miles off),
"the day before yesterday."

"There are only two horses in the stables. Where are the others?"

"Our master always travels with his own horses" (meaning: not by post).
"He will be away a week or more. He was pleased to mention to me that he
had to attend to some business in the Civil Court."

While the servant was speaking the officer looked about the hall. There
was a door facing him, a door to the right and a door to the left. The
officer chose to enter the room on the left and ordered the blinds to
be pulled up. It was Mr. Nicholas B.'s study with a couple of tall
bookcases, some pictures on the walls, and so on. Besides the big centre
table, with books and papers, there was a quite small writing-table
with several drawers, standing between the door and the window in a good
light; and at this table my grand-uncle usually sat either to read or
write.

On pulling up the blind the servant was startled by the discovery that
the whole male population of the village was massed in front, trampling
down the flower-beds. There were also a few women amongst them. He was
glad to observe the village priest (of the Orthodox Church) coming up
the drive. The good man in his haste had tucked up his cassock as high
as the top of his boots.

The officer had been looking at the backs of the books in the bookcases.
Then he perched himself on the edge of the centre-table and remarked
easily:

"Your master did not take you to town with him, then."

"I am the head servant and he leaves me in charge of the house. It's a
strong, young chap that travels with our master. If--God forbid--there
was some accident on the road he would be of much more use than I."

Glancing through the window he saw the priest arguing vehemently in the
thick of the crowd, which seemed subdued by his interference. Three or
four men, however, were talking with the Cossacks at the door.

"And you don't think your master has gone to join the rebels maybe--eh?"
asked the officer.

"Our master would be too old for that surely. He's well over seventy
and he's getting feeble too. It's some years now