“Allow me to offer my apologies for the rudeness of our ministers,” said the count, with the most elaborate politeness, slightly touching his hat with his hand. “But can you explain to me the meaning of the words of the apparition?” “It would be better not to seek to know the meaning of the apparition,” answered the stranger. “There are things … on which it is better to let the Fates be silent.…” At that moment the sounds of a lute came floating from the great lagoon. Some one seated in a gondola was singing. Pavel eagerly listened; it was his favourite hymn. It brought back to his recollection the Manor of Pavlovski, the musical mornings at Nelidova’s, and her intercession for Rakitina. “Very well,” said he; “let it be so; the future will reveal the truth. But I have another favour to ask of you.… A certain person, whom I wish from my whole heart to help at any cost, would very much like to know one thing.” “I shall be most happy,” answered the stranger; “if I can be of any use to your Highness.” “A certain person,” continued the count, “begged me to make inquiries here in Italy, in Spain, and in general, of seamen, if a certain naval officer is still living. He was on that ship which was totally shipwrecked, five years ago, and of which literally nothing has been heard.” “A Russian ship?” “Yes.” “It was carried away, and dashed to pieces by the storm in the ocean, not far from Africa?” “Yes.” “The _Northern Eagle_?” “Yes, but how came you to know?” “It’s not in vain I’m called an Enchanter.” “Speak! make haste, was he saved? is he still alive, this officer?” said the count, impatiently. At that moment they were both standing on the water side. The silvery waves gently rippled up to the stone steps. In the distance, in the dim twilight, the outline of a ship with her sails furled was just discernible. “To-morrow,” said the stranger, “I leave Venice on that schooner; but before sailing, or answering your question, I should like--excuse me--to know … whether the Count du Nord, on ascending the throne, will be more indulgent to me than the ministers of his august parent? Will he allow me then to visit that country again, whatever the tenor of my answer concerning that naval officer?” The deep agitation which Pavel had experienced, on relating his adventure with the apparition, had already subsided, and he was regaining his self-composure. The question of the man aroused his indignation. “Impudent, audacious impostor,” thought he, in a fit of suspicious anger. “What insolence! and what a turn he has given to the conversation. Street acrobat! charlatan!…” Pavel could scarcely contain himself, and crushed his glove in his hand. “According to your own words it is rather difficult to answer for the future,” said he thoughtfully, after a short pause. “Nevertheless, I am convinced, that on a second journey to Russia, you will meet with a reception more polite and more befitting a foreigner.” His interlocutor bowed profoundly.