"You are aware that when the Czar attends any civil function and not a military parade, he is pleased to show his imperial favor towards civilians by appearing in a plain black coat, and wears no orders, merely the gold medal in his button-hole, which he received from the society of 'Philanthropists' in Riga for having saved a poor peasant from drowning in the river. Thus, amid all the brilliant assemblage, the Czar is conspicuous by the simplicity of his attire; and his Vladimir order will be in the custody of the groom of the chambers for the night. Bribe your friend to lend you the Czar's order to-night." "By Jove! a brilliant idea! I see, after all, that you love me, governor." "Ah! were you not my son, my boy, you'd long ago have been swinging on the gallows." "No, no, father. Why joke with the word 'gallows'? You may come to it yourself one day, though you are my respected parent." "But I give you one piece of advice: See that you keep as far off as possible from the Czar at the concert, that he may not recognize his own order." "Bah! how is he to single out one amid the forty that will be there?" "I tell you this much, that the Czar is an expert in precious stones. So make a point of keeping in some obscure corner." "Well, I will be your obedient son. I am pleased with you to-day, father. It is no light matter to have such a sensible parent to come to. I grant you permission to give me a kiss. Adieu! Good-day, Herr Sujukin. Pray continue where you left off." Meanwhile the death's-head had been chewing something between his teeth, perhaps a criticism, while the young man was making a clean breast of it. "A good many things to strike out with the red pencil there," thought he to himself. The father gazed for some time at the half-open door; then, turning to Sujukin: "A fine, handsome boy, is he not? A merry fellow. His worst fault is that he knows how much I love him." "He only needs a little of the red pencil! But to return to the story of that red pencil." "You shall have satisfaction, Vasul Sergievitch! Leave the matter to me. I will place the _corpus delicti_ in the Czar's own hands, and can assure you that the culprit will bitterly repent his offence! As though his first intemperate actions, which he paid for by the confiscation of his property and his banishment to Odessa, were not sufficient reminder, he requites the clemency of the Czar, who permitted him to return home, with these fresh excesses; but we will find a means of settling with him. Be comforted, Vasul Sergievitch. To-morrow morning Master Pushkin will find himself on his way to Uralsk." "Irkutsk is farther!" said the Censor, who could not refrain from improving on Araktseieff's verdict. "But Uralsk is worse! Believe me, Uralsk is an awful garrison for an officer to be disgraced to. In ten years' time no woman would recognize him. From a gay butterfly he will come back transformed into a hairy caterpillar--like our friend Jakuskin!"