"'It is a good wife's part To honor and obey, In gossiping and dress Time ne'er to pass away. By daybreak she is up, His breakfast to prepare; Then a good roast and wine With him at noon to share.' Isn't it pretty? This is the second verse: "'A husband's part it is With her wishes to comply, And whatsoe'er she ask In no case to deny. Through fire itself to go, If but her hand to kiss, And ever to be slow To mark what's done amiss.' Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the good old grandmother, in praise of her own merry ditty, and quite disposed, had Ivan expressed but the slightest word of entreaty, to repeat it for his benefit. "I only hope your little wife will soon come back to hear it." But Ivan was no longer paying attention to her--a sound was audible from without. There had been time for Korynthia to have gone to Zeneida's and to have returned. He hurriedly opened the door. But it was not the expected Korynthia who entered, but one whom of all others he desired least to meet with in this sublunary world--Galban. The Chevalier was not alone; four grenadiers of the Finnish regiment stood behind him. The Chevalier, without taking off his hat in presence of the lady of the house, or in any way saluting her into whose apartment he was thus forcing an entrance, exclaimed: "Ivan Maximovitch Ghedimin, you are my prisoner! Surrender your sword!" Without a word, Ivan, unbuckling his sword, handed it to him. Anna Feodorovna was furious. "What does this fellow mean by breaking into my apartment and presuming to take away my grandson's sword, the sword of a Duke Ghedimin? Who is this gentleman?" "Who I am, madame, it is absolutely unnecessary for you to know; but I will tell you who your grandson is. He is the _Dictator of yonder mutinous rebels_ who attempted to murder the Czar and have been defeated." "Ihnasko! Ihnasko!" shrieked the matron, "come here, and laugh instead of me! I cannot; help me to laugh. Look at this carnival buffoon who is performing here. He says that my nest-bird is the Dictator of the rebels! Where have you crept to? Laugh--laugh!" Ivan said in a low voice, and in French, to Galban, "I can exculpate myself to the Czar. There is no proof against me." "How about 'the green book?'" "I know nothing of it." "Do not build up vain hopes, Ivan Maximovitch! You are thoroughly undone. Your wife has betrayed you. No sooner did you give over into her hands a certain key which, as you are aware, opens a certain roulette-bank at Fräulein Zeneida's than she went directly to the President of Police and placed that key in his hands. 'The green book' is now in good keeping." Ghedimin felt his knees totter at these words, as though the stars had fallen from the skies upon his head. His head sank upon his breast. Horror so illimitable numbed his power of thought. The next moment, however, the blood within him took fire; he trembled with rage and indignation.