Von Gaden started. “’Tis strange!” he muttered; “I was thinking of him a moment since. Her young face brought back the memory of that awful scene. And you have seen him, fellow?” He regarded the dwarf with a look of fierce interrogation, as if to read his very soul; but Homyak showed no desire to conceal anything; he was shaking with genuine terror. “I saw his spirit,” he said, his teeth chattering, “and there was the scar--the wound you sewed up. I saw him, and he mocked me!” “Where was he?” asked the physician, while I marveled at his patience with the dwarf’s vagaries. “He came from this direction,” said Homyak, wildly, “and he was gaunt and thin, and his hair was white.” Von Gaden laughed. “You dream, Homyak,” he said; “ghosts do not age.” I was growing impatient, and made a movement to leave them; but Von Gaden laid his hand on my arm. “A moment, M. de Brousson,” he said; and then he took the dwarf aside, and speaking to him sternly and briefly, despatched him in the direction of the palace. When he rejoined me I saw that the gloom on his face had deepened rather than disappeared. “If you can walk home with me, M. le Vicomte,” he said gravely, “I would gladly talk a little with you. These are uncertain times, and a man must needs keep his house in order and his affairs ready, lest he be unexpectedly taken away. There is a matter that has often weighed upon my mind that I would gladly confide to a disinterested man who could bear witness in the hour of need.” Now, I was on the horns of a dilemma. The doctor had been more than obliging to me when I lay sore smitten with fever, and I could not easily deny him, yet I was fretting to be off on my errand. However, I resigned myself to the circumstances, and with some reluctance turned to accompany him. Then a sudden thought prompted me to question my companion. “Can you tell me anything,” I said, “of the Boyar Vladimir Ramodanofsky?” Von Gaden started and looked at me sharply. “Verily,” he said, beneath his breath, “Homyak is right; the dead walk!” CHAPTER III. THE STORY OF CAIN. AFTER a moment’s thought the physician walked on, motioning to me to follow him. “This is no place for private converse,” he said; “when we are in my house, I can answer you. It was of the Boyar Ramodanofsky I was about to speak, and your question startled me; but mayhap it was accidental. At any rate, follow me, and I will endeavor to satisfy your curiosity.” I was content to follow, since I was assured of hearing something of the boyar and his beautiful charge. I did not doubt Von Gaden’s knowledge of them; his profession gained him universal admittance, and he had been a physician of the czar’s, which was an endorsement readily accepted by the nobility.