"You are at my mercy," said the young man to him at last. "I will forgive you if you ask my pardon on your knees." "I won't do it," replied the child, getting up. "I have no pardon to ask. You struck me with your whip, and I swore to pay you for it. I'm a good shot. I sighted your cap and I was sure I'd hit it. That makes you mad, and now we're even. But I'll promise not to throw any more stones, if you'll promise not to strike me with your whip any more." "That is a very reasonable proposition," said Gilbert. "I don't ask your opinion, sir," interrupted Stephane haughtily,-- then turning to Ivan: "Ivan, my dear Ivan," continued he, "in this matter you ought to obey me. You know very well the Count does not love me, but he does not mean to have others insult me: it is a privilege he reserves to himself. Dismount, and make this little rascal kneel to me and ask my pardon." Ivan shook his head. "You struck him first," answered he; "why should he ask your pardon?" In vain Stephane exhausted supplications and threats. The serf remained inflexible, and during his talk Gilbert approached Wilhelm, and said to him in a low voice: "Run away quickly, my child; but remember your promise; if you don't, you'll have to settle with me." Stephane, seeing him escape, would have started in pursuit; but Gilbert barred his way. "Ivan!" cried he, wringing his hands, "drive this man out of my path!" Ivan shook his head again. "I don't wish to harm the young Frenchman," replied he; "he has a kind way and loves children." Stephane's face was painfully agitated. His lips trembled. He looked with sinister eye first at Ivan, then at Gilbert. At last he said to himself in a stifled voice: "Wretch that I am! I am as feeble as a worm, and weakness is not respected!" Then lowering his head, he approached his horse, mounted him, and pushed slowly through the copse. When he had regained the wood, looking fixedly at Gilbert: "Mr. Secretary," said he, "my father often quotes that diplomatist who said that all men have their price; unfortunately I am not rich enough to buy you; you are worth more than a dollar; but permit me to give you some good advice. When you return to the castle, repeat to Count Kostia certain words that I have allowed to escape me to-day. It will give him infinite pleasure. Perhaps he will make you his spy-in-chief, and without asking it, he may double your salary. The most profitable trade in the world is burning candles on the devil's shrine. You will do wonders in it, as well as others." Upon which, with a profound bow to Gilbert, he disappeared at a full trot. "The devil! the devil! he talks of nothing but the devil!" said Gilbert to himself, taking the road to the castle. "My poor friend, you are condemned to pass some years of your life here between a tyrant who is sometimes amiable, and a victim who is never so at all!" VI