e general convinced
by his confidence that some dreadful misfortune threatened him.

From this time onward, as might be expected, the general weighed every
word and noticed every gesture which passed between Vaninka and Foedor in
his presence; but he saw nothing to confirm his suspicions on the part of
the aide-de-camp or of his daughter; on the contrary, Vaninka seemed
colder and more reserved than ever.

A week passed in this way. About two o'clock in the morning of the ninth
day, someone knocked at the general's door. It was Gregory.

"If your excellency will go into your daughter's room," said Gregory,
"you will find Mr. Foedor there."

The general turned pale, dressed himself without uttering a word, and
followed the slave to the door of Vaninka's room. Having arrived there,
with a motion of his hand he dismissed the informer, who, instead of
retiring in obedience to this mute command, hid himself in the corner of
the corridor.

When the general believed himself to be alone, he knocked once; but all
was silent. This silence, however, proved nothing; for Vaninka might be
asleep. He knocked a second time, and the young girl, in a perfectly
calm voice, asked, "Who is there?"

"It is I," said the general, in a voice trembling with emotion.

"Annouschka!" said the girl to her foster-sister, who slept in the
adjoining room, "open the door to my father. Forgive me, father," she
continued; "but Annouschka is dressing, and will be with you in a
moment."

The general waited patiently, for he could discover no trace of emotion
in his daughter's voice, and he hoped that Gregory had been mistaken.

In a few moments the door opened, and the general went in, and cast a
long look around him; there was no one in this first apartment.

Vaninka was in bed, paler perhaps than usual, but quite calm, with the
loving smile on her lips with which she always welcomed her father.

"To what fortunate circumstance," asked the young girl in her softest
tones, "do I owe the pleasure of seeing you at so late an hour?"

"I wished to speak to you about a very important matter," said the
general, "and however late it was, I thought you would forgive me for
disturbing you."

"My father will always be welcome in his daughter's room, at whatever
hour of the day or night he presents himself there."

The general cast another searching look round, and was convinced that it
was impossible for a man to be concealed in the first room--