"Yes, Sir, yes; whatever gives you pleasure makes my heart beat with joy; and may your utmost hopes be now fulfilled!" "Thanks, page; but still my heart is full of fears. I know not, nor dare I ask, if yet my father lives. Why do you sigh, boy? Does the name of father cause you thus to sigh?" "Alas, Sir, I never knew one: the name sounds like mockery on my ear. The kind and noble friend, whom I thought my father, I found was not so; and yet I feared to ask who was." "'Tis strange," said Ivan. "And your mother, boy?" "Alas, Sir!" said the page, "the kind and gentle care of her, who was my mother, I never knew." The boy's eyes filled with tears. "I would I had not asked you, boy, about your parents, to make you weep thus: but dry your tears; I will supply the place of both your parents, as much as in my power lies; and you shall share my fortunes, which, I trust, will lead to happiness." In a moment the boy's eyes brightened, as he gazed up into Ivan's face, with an inquiring and searching glance, yet radiating with smiles of joy. "'Tis that alone I ask to do," he replied. "To follow your fortunes through good or evil, in happiness or misery. Still speak to me in words like those you just now uttered, and they will repay me all the hardships I may endure." "I could not speak harsh words to one so unprotected as you are. Now tell me, what think you of my countrymen? Are they like the wild barbarians the Russians would have taught the world to think them? But, thank heaven! they yet may learn how true courage can oppose its arms to tyranny, though backed by hosts of slaves." "I did not think to find them as they are," replied the boy; "more courteous far, and hospitable, than the people of the land whence we came. True valour sits in the eye, even of the lowest of the multitude." "You praise them well, good page, but justly," replied Ivan. "But see, the party move towards the house. We must go in. Keep by my side, as you see the pages of the nobles do." Volume 2, Chapter VI. As the sun of the first day, which Ivan had passed in his native land, sunk down beneath the waters of the ocean, shining bright and blue between an opening in the hills, the guests re-assembled in the hospitable mansion of the Prince Mahmood, where another repast was served, much in the style of the former; and as the party were seated at it, a new comer entered the guest-house. He was dressed in the high fur cap of Armenia, with a long-flowing, dark robe, bound by a belt round his waist, at which he carried an ink-horn, pen, and book. A slave followed him, staggering under the weight of large packages, which he had unloaded from two horses at the door. He took his seat respectfully, at some distance from the chiefs, and humbly ate the viands which the Prince ordered to be placed before him.