The following evening he went again. His appearance was the signal for the cessation of all occupation, every one being eager to watch the developments of events. He selected his card--an ace. The dealing began: to the right, a queen; to the left, an ace. “The ace wins,” remarked Herman, turning up his card without glancing at it. “Your queen is killed,” remarked Tchekalinsky quietly. Herman trembled; looking down, he saw, not the ace he had selected, but the queen of spades. He could scarcely believe his eyes. It seemed impossible that he could have made such a mistake. As he stared at the card it seemed to him that the queen winked one eye at him mockingly. “The old woman!” he exclaimed involuntarily. The croupier raked in the money while he looked on in stupid terror. When he left the table, all made way for him to pass; the cards were shuffled, and the gambling went on. Herman became a lunatic. He was confined at the hospital at Oboukov, where he spoke to no one, but kept constantly murmuring in a monotonous tone: “The three, seven, ace! The three, seven, queen!” THE CLOAK BY NIKOLAI VASILIEVITCH GOGOL [Illustration] _The naturalistic movement, which took its rise in France with Balzac and Mérimée, was represented in Russia by Gogol (born 1809, died 1852), who has been called the true founder of the Russian school of fiction. He undoubtedly derived some inspiration from the romantic Poushkin, but, unlike Poushkin, he was of Cossack origin--that is, not pure Russian; he was born in Southwestern Russia, on the borders of Poland. His writings have exerted a great influence on both French and Russian writers. Zola frankly confesses him as his master, and Turgenev has said: “We all came from Gogol’s ‘Cloak.’” Over and above the constant observation of life on which his work is based, and the remarkable ability he possessed to present his facts in a simple, natural manner, there is always the understanding and sympathy of a big-hearted man of the people._ [Illustration] THE CLOAK BY NIKOLAI GOGOL In the department of--but it is better not to mention the department. There is nothing more irritable than departments, regiments, courts of justice, and, in a word, every branch of public service. Each individual attached to them nowadays thinks all society insulted in his person. Quite recently a complaint was received from a justice of the peace, in which he plainly demonstrated that all the imperial institutions were going to the dogs, and that the Czar’s sacred name was being taken in vain; and in proof he appended to the complaint a romance, in which the justice of the peace is made to appear about once in every ten lines, and sometimes in a drunken condition. Therefore, in order to avoid all unpleasantness, it will be better to designate the department in question as a certain department.