I must confess that I anticipated this interview with some qualms. It was towards the end of my visit. The results hitherto obtained had the disadvantage of a certain monotony of sombreness, with, however, the advantage also that each succeeding interview only strengthened the impression gained from previous ones. Thus by degrees I had formed a very sharply defined image of Russian conditions--such an image as is pictured in the mind of the thinking Russian. Was this clear and distinct image now to be dispelled by the lye of this Conservative critic, and was I to lose the chief result of my journey, a confidence in the trustworthiness of the data hitherto accumulated? I met the gentleman at his house at the appointed time, and learned at once that I had been especially commended to him. I therefore entered without hesitation upon the matter in which I was interested. "I do not wish," I began, "to go through Russia in blinders. If your excellency, as a Conservative, will have the goodness to refute what I have heard hitherto, and will give me more accurate information, I shall be under great obligation." "What have you heard?" asked the count. "That Russia is starving, while the papers report a surplus in the treasury." "That, unfortunately, is true." "That your thinking people are in despair." "Also true." "That a revival of the Reign of Terror is to be feared." "Equally true." "That all Russia hopes the war will be lost, because only in that way can the present state of things be brought to an end." "True again." "That the present régime passes all bounds of depravity, and can be compared only with the Prætorian rule in the period of the decline of Rome." "That understates the truth." My face must have taken on a very strange expression during this brisk play of question and answer, for the count now took the initiative, and said: