ad an unbounded influence over all who came in contact with
her; even the general, without knowing why, obeyed her. Foedor submitted
like a child to everything she wished, and the young girl's love was
increased by the wishes she opposed and by a feeling of gratified pride.

It was some days after this nocturnal decision that the knouting had
taken place at which our readers have assisted. It was for some slight
fault, and Gregory had been the victim; Vaninka having complained to her
father about him. Foedor, who as aide-de-camp had been obliged to
preside over Gregory's punishment, had paid no more attention to the
threats the serf had uttered on retiring.

Ivan, the coachman, who after having been executioner had become surgeon,
had applied compresses of salt and water to heal up the scarred shoulders
of his victim. Gregory had remained three days in the infirmary, and
during this time he had turned over in his mind every possible means of
vengeance. Then at the end of three days, being healed, he had returned
to his duty, and soon everyone except he had forgotten the punishment.
If Gregory had been a real Russian, he would soon have forgotten it all;
for this punishment is too familiar to the rough Muscovite for him to
remember it long and with rancour. Gregory, as we have said, had Greek
blood in his veins; he dissembled and remembered. Although Gregory was a
serf, his duties had little by little brought him into greater
familiarity with the general than any of the other servants. Besides, in
every country in the world barbers have great licence with those they
shave; this is perhaps due to the fact that a man is instinctively more
gracious to another who for ten minutes every day holds his life in his
hands. Gregory rejoiced in the immunity of his profession, and it nearly
always happened that the barber's daily operation on the general's chin
passed in conversation, of which he bore the chief part.

One day the general had to attend a review: he sent for Gregory before
daybreak, and as the barber was passing the razor as gently as possible
over his master's cheek, the conversation fell, or more likely was led,
on Foedor. The barber praised him highly, and this naturally caused his
master to ask him, remembering the correction the young aide-decamp had
superintended, if he could not find some fault in this model of
perfection that might counterbalance so many good qualities. Gregory
replied that with th