“It was in Petersburg,” again began the count. He then related to his companion the celebrated fact, already made known somehow abroad, of his having seen the spirit of his ancestor; how, on a certain moonlight night, walking along the streets with his aide-de-camp, he had felt that between him and the wall of the house on the left side there rose all at once something in a long cloak and old-fashioned cocked hat--how he had “_felt_” that apparition, by the icy cold which had frozen his left side, and with what horror he had followed step by step the apparition, which noisily struck the pavement--it was the noise of stone against stone. The apparition, invisible to the aide-de-camp, had addressed Pavel in a sad, reproachful voice: “Pavel, poor Pavel, poor prince, do not love the world too much; you will not remain long in it; fear the reproaches of thy conscience; live by the laws of justice … in life.…” “The apparition did not finish,” said the count. “I still did not understand what it was. At last I looked up and turned giddy; before me, in the full moonlight, stood my grandfather, Peter the Great, just as I remembered him. I recognised directly his caressing look of love, fixed on me. I wanted to ask him … but he disappeared, and I remained leaning against the bare, cold wall.” Saying these last words, Pavel again raised his mask, and wiped his face with his handkerchief; he was pale and very much embarrassed. It seemed as though before his eyes there again rose, the dear, sad apparition. CHAPTER XXXIV. _A MYRTLE LEAF._ “What do you think, Signor?” asked the count, after a short pause. “Was it a dream, or did I really see the spirit of my grandfather?” “It was his spirit,” answered his companion. “What did his words mean, and why did he not finish them?” “Would you like to know?” “Of course.” “Some one disturbed him.” “But who?” asked Pavel, continuing to walk along the deserted river side. “The apparition disappeared at my approach. I was just leaving at that time your banker, Sutherland. You did not notice me, but I saw you both, and I involuntarily startled the apparition of the great man.” The count stopped; he was amused, and at the same time indignant at the impudence of the magician, and yet there remained something more to be learnt. “You are joking,” said he. “How is it you were in Petersburg, and no one heard anything of it?” “I had that pleasure--but for a very short time. I was received in a very unfriendly manner. As a foreigner, and one fond of knowledge, I had expected to obtain more attention. But the first minister offended me deeply; he invited me to leave the country. I withdrew my money from the bankers, and that very same night left Petersburg.” “Fool, jackanapes!” thought the count, contemptuously smiling; “what inventions, what yarns he can spin.”