We had reached Von Gaden’s house, and the doctor himself opened the door in response to my summons. He looked not a little surprised at the sight of the two women with me, but admitted us with his usual gentle courtesy. We entered, leaving Pierrot on the doorstep to watch for and warn us of possible pursuit. Mademoiselle and he remembered each other, for he had been at the château while she was there, and it was amusing to see the mutual joy at the discovery of some one who belonged to that quiet and trustworthy past, for they both had the same horror of their present environment; and she seemed to feel reassured because this old retainer watched at the door. The doctor ushered her and Zénaïde into a private room, and then I asked to speak to him alone, feeling that I could explain matters more clearly out of the hearing of the two most concerned. I was for going straight into the doctor’s study, but to my surprise, found that already occupied. A man was sitting by the table and rose at the sight of me; it was Peter Lykof, but the doctor drew me into another room, and closing the door with his back, stood regarding me with an expression of inquiry in his eyes. Now that I had brought Zénaïde to his house, I realized that I was demanding a good deal of his kindness, and exposing him to no contemptible danger. I was therefore not a little disturbed at the unusual _brusquerie_ of his demeanor. He saw my momentary embarrassment, and his manner relaxed. “Well, M. le Vicomte,” he said quietly, “I see that your errand is unusual, but we gain nothing by delay. To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit from the unknown ladies yonder?” I looked up in surprise; it had not occurred to me that he had failed to recognize them under their mufflings. “It is Mademoiselle Ramodanofsky and her _demoiselle de compagnie_,” I said at once, “come to you in an hour of great distress, and at my recommendation.” Von Gaden started at the mention of her name, and was looking at me curiously. “This is strange,” he remarked thoughtfully; “the coincidences of this life are marvelous!” “I ventured to appeal to you to help her,” I went on, “because you, before any one, knew of the villainy of her uncle. He is now determined to force this young girl to marry that rogue, Viatscheslav Naryshkin, to-morrow morning, and she has declared that she will sooner die. In this extremity, I could think of but two avenues of escape for her: one was a direct appeal to the Czarevna Sophia; the other, temporary concealment in your house, until influence can be brought to bear upon Ramodanofsky, to compel him to surrender his purpose. I have reason to believe that the czarevna will aid her cheerfully.” Von Gaden took a short turn across the room, evidently much excited.