I waited, possibly, half an hour, before one of the prince’s gentlemen came to conduct me into his presence, for Galitsyn hedged himself in with no little ceremony. I followed the usher into a long and splendid _salon_, hung with the richest tapestry; at the farther end was a writing-table, at which sat Prince Galitsyn, conversing earnestly with a man who wore the uniform of the Streltsi; as I approached I recognized with astonishment my acquaintance, Peter Lykof. A pile of papers lay on the table before Galitsyn, who was so intent upon them that he did not notice the usher who preceded me to announce my entrance. Lykof looking around greeted me with an easy assurance of manner that I had always observed about him; and Galitsyn, looking up at this moment, thrust his papers aside, and saluted me with courtesy. The prince was an extremely handsome man, and had a grace of manner which made him the most successful of the Russian diplomats, and withal, he had the gallant and straightforward bearing of the soldier that he really was. I signified at once that my business was for his private ear, and Lykof, taking the hint, prepared to withdraw. To my surprise, Galitsyn held out his hand to him warmly, as if bidding adieu to an equal. “I have to thank you, prince,” Lykof said easily, “for your patient hearing of my complaint. I have waited long, but at last I may hope for justice.” “It cannot fail you in so righteous a cause,” replied the prince at once; “the czarevna probably knows much of the case already, and you may always look for justice at her hands.” I made a mental note of this, and hoped that the czarevna’s forbearance was equal to her justice; but something in her small eyes had warned me that her ideas on this point might be a little crude and simple. However, Lykof did not seem troubled with my apprehensions, probably having an easier conscience, and he parted from Galitsyn with the utmost cordiality, saluting me as he passed with a dignity worthy a higher rank. When I was alone with the prince, I immediately presented my packet, briefly stating my unfortunate experience and the difficulty I had encountered in fulfilling the czarevna’s mission. Galitsyn listened attentively, meanwhile turning the packet over and over in his hands, his keen glance shifting from it to my face and back again. When I had concluded, he broke the seals, glanced hastily at the contents, and then, laying it on the table before him, regarded me with an expression which I could not fathom. “M. le Vicomte,” he said slowly, “you have done well. Her Imperial Highness will not forget so distinguished a service. If this packet had reached the hands of an enemy,”--he paused as if to give weight to his words,--“I cannot measure the results. It would be unworthy of me to dissemble with you, M. de Brousson; it would have ruined the Miloslavskys.”