At this I stumbled awkwardly to my feet, and she, seeming to feel that she had been hasty, held out her hand with a blush and a smile, and as I pressed it to my lips, she spoke to me in a sweet and slightly faltering tone. “I thank you,” she said, “for your sympathy. I am a lonely orphan, and your friendship for mademoiselle and me is peculiarly valuable to us. But alas! I am too carefully guarded for a stranger to help me; therefore, go, monsieur, and forget me, though I shall remember always your thought for my fate.” I flung back my head. “Mademoiselle,” I said steadfastly, “I will neither forget you nor fail you; in your hour of need I will--” I know not how much more I would have said, for she was listening with downcast and blushing face; but, at this moment, a lackey announced the carriage, and I was forced to make an awkward exit, Zénaïde giving all the directions for me. “Mademoiselle Eudoxie cannot speak clearly,” she said serenely; “she has a severe toothache. Konrat, drive directly to Dr. von Gaden’s house and leaving mademoiselle there, return and report to me. _Au revoir_, mademoiselle, and may your tooth be soon quieted.” And the carriage drove slowly out of the court, leaving her standing on the doorstep, with the rare Russian sunlight touching her golden hair, and a blush like a rose on her fair young cheek. CHAPTER XII. PRAVEZH.[5] [Footnote 5: Public flogging or torture.] I WAS not a little thankful when the carriage stopped at Von Gaden’s door and I got out at last; nearly falling as I did so, for my skirts became involved in the wheel, displaying, I fear, a masculine leg; however, I saw the coach drive off sedately with Konrat, as stoical as at first, holding the reins. Dr. Von Gaden’s servant looked a little perplexed when he saw me standing at the door, but ushered me into the doctor’s consulting-room, saying that he expected Von Gaden every moment. As soon as I was alone, I began to remove my disguise, and had just thrown aside my veil and hood when the Jew opened the door. He stood transfixed on the threshold for a moment, and then, as he comprehended the situation, a smile illumined his grave face. “Poor Pierrot!” he exclaimed at once, “I must notify him; the man has been beside himself.” My conscience smote me that I had never once thought of the poor fellow. “Where is he?” I inquired, as I proceeded hastily to divest myself of my petticoats, for I was anxious to feel like a man once more. “He is scouring Moscow,” Von Gaden said; “he came here, towards morning, and told me that you had gone into a courtyard to make an inquiry and had never come out, and when he followed and searched, he found the court and house both deserted. I have been twice to the palace to petition for aid in the search for you, and Pierrot is like one possessed. Tell me, man, how came you here, and in this garb?”