"Your words are mere falsehoods from beginning to end. You wish to drive me from you that I may not take part in the conspiracy! I am not worthy, in your eyes, to share the dangers my more distinguished friends are running. Let me go back to them!" "What conspiracy?" exclaimed Zeneida, feigning astonishment. "Our friends are now debating how to introduce the American form of 'Temperance Associations' into Russia in order to put an end to the enormous consumption of brandy now going on. There is no talk of upsetting dynasties in my house. Do you suppose that the 'court singer' of the Czar, the court favorite, did she hear of any conspiracy against his Majesty, would not at once hasten to smooth her own way to a coronet by its disclosure?" "A way marked out by the skulls of her best friends?" "Well, yes." "No. You would not do it." "Who knows? I have no soul, and do not believe in the souls of others. I have no faith in a future world, therefore I use this world so that things may go well with me in it." "And supposing it were to happen for a change that things did not go well with you?" "Then I would give back to earth what is earth's. The fable of the Phœnix has a deep-set meaning. When he feels that his plumage is worn out, he changes into ashes. Of all creatures man has the greatest right to decide the term of his life." Pushkin sought in the face which knew so well how to keep its secrets what there was of truth in all this. A sound of laughter and oaths behind the jasmine bush betokened the approach of some noisy revellers. Zeneida sprang up from Pushkin's side. Laying her hand upon his shoulder, she whispered to him, in a voice made tender by deep feeling: "Avoid me, and seek her who is worthy of you and truly loves you, your Muse, and be faithful to her!" And, like a phantom, she disappeared. Jakuskin came forcing his way through the jasmine bower, Diabolka with him. "Come, let's be off to the Bear's Paw." Pushkin sprang defiantly to his feet, and said, with a laugh. "By Jove! here is my Muse! Come along; we'll go where we are understood." And the three made their noisy way through the still thronged ballroom. It was Zeneida whose reappearance the whirling roulette-ball had announced. A look from her told that the two had taken their departure. Krizsanowski, removing the pipe from his mouth, put it in his pocket. "Now we are among ourselves. Let us continue." Pestel asked permission to speak.