"My faithful--my treasure--pride of my life--thou art no more!" He endeavored to fasten the larger portions together, but in vain. Such an offence needed a special punishment. The aggrieved Censor, wrapping the _corpus delicti_ in a paper, rolled Pushkin's poem round it, and hastened off to Araktseieff's Palace, mentally conning the speech the while with which he should make his patron acquainted with the abominable assault. Araktseieff's palace was just then being decorated with those historic frescos by which the celebrated Doyen perpetuated the deeds of Czar Alexander. The master was even then himself at work on the immense circle which formed the cupola of the domed reception-room, and in which the Czar appears in the midst of his generals and surrounded by mythological and allegorical figures. The furious Censor had to pass through this saloon. He glanced up at the master, who, astride on the plank, was touching up the figures, already designed, with color. It was just what he wanted. He would let off some of his rage upon him. "Is it Master Doyen, or one of his assistants, who is painting up there?" asked he. To this singular question the artist made reply: "And pray what may be your business down there?" "I have no 'business,' but am Vasul Sujukin Sergievitch, Counsellor of Enlightenment to his Majesty." Such was the Censor's title. "A jolly good thing you have come. There is precious little light in this city with its confounded fogs." "Learn, sir, that this is no 'confounded' fog. A St. Petersburg fog is purer than that of any other city. We allow no complaints of our skies. But, look! who is that woman up there in the picture, standing close to the Czar, with leg bared to the knee?" "It is Fame, the goddess of novelty." "But what indecency for any one to stand in proximity to the Czar in such a costume!" "Ha, my friend, in the period of Roman-Greek mythology stockings were not in fashion." "But we are in Russia, where ladies who have been presented do not go about barefoot. I forbid you to bring women in such _negligée_ in contact with the person of the Czar!" "All right! I will give her sandals." "And let down her dress!" "It is going to have a border to it." "Mind, then, that it is a broad one that covers the knee. And who is that with a roll of papers in his hand?" "General Kutusoff." "Why is his right arm shorter than the left?" "It is not shorter; only his position makes it appear so. We call that _scorzo_ in Italian." "_Scorzo_ here, _scorzo_ there! We are not Italians! Here we call a man who has one arm shorter than the other deformed!" "But I cannot paint my characters with stretched-out arms as if they were on a crucifix!" "I don't see why not." The artist here, giving up the discussion, began touching up the face of the Czar. "What is that black you are smearing over the countenance of the Czar?" "_Terra di Siena._ It gives the shadows."