"And who of us," resumed Vladimir, "never contradicts his own character? In Russia the duties of my position oblige me to be reserved, secret, enveloped in mystery from head to foot, a great pontiff of science, speaking but in brief sentences and in an oracular tone; but here I am not obliged to play my role, and by a natural reaction, finding myself alone in the woods with a man of sense and heart, my tongue unloosens like a magpie's. Let us see; if I tell you my history do you promise to be discreet?" "Undoubtedly. But if you must have a confidant, how happens it that intimate as you are with Count Kostia--" "Ah, precisely! when you know my history you will understand for what reason in my interviews with Kostia Petrovitch I speak often of him, but rarely of myself." And at these words Vladimir Paulitch turned up his sleeves, and showing his wrists to Gilbert; "Look!" he said. "Do you see any mark, any scar?" "No, I cannot detect any." "That is strange. For forty years, however, I have worn handcuffs, for such as you see me--I, Vladimir Paulitch; I, one of the first physicians of Russia; I, the learned physiologist, I am the refuse of the earth, I am Ivan's equal; in a word, I am a serf!" "You a serf!" exclaimed Gilbert, astonished. "You should not be so greatly surprised; such things are common in Russia," said Vladimir Paulitch, with a faint smile. "Yes, sir," he resumed, "I am one of Count Kostia's serfs, and you may imagine whether or not I am grateful to him for having had the goodness to fashion from the humble clay of which nature had formed one of his moujiks, the glorious statue of Doctor Vladimir Paulitch. However, of all the favors he has heaped upon me the one which troubles me most is, that, thanks to his discretion, there were but two men in the world, himself and myself, who knew me for what I am. Now there are three.