“But little,” agreed Peter, who felt that he could have his way with Shimilin if the Cossack believed that Peter was not seriously opposed to having Michael taken. For Peter knew that a Cossack can be cajoled when open antagonism only strengthens his resistance. “True,” said Shimilin, with a smile. “We need have no quarrel. And being a soldier, you know what duty means—I must obey my orders at all cost. I am glad that you have sensible ideas.” Captain Shimilin evidently took it for granted that Peter had decided not to interfere, but would allow Michael to go with the Cossack. Still, Shimilin took no action. It appeared that he wished to prolong his conversation with Peter, and his eyes when he looked at Peter were frankly curious. Michael leaned back against the table, his back to the window, watching Peter closely. The old general’s head nodded gently with the palsy, suggestive of being moved by the beating of his heart. He divined in Peter some sudden change of manner, and suspected that Peter was not going to protect him against the Cossack. But he said nothing. “I would advise you to call later,” suggested Peter suddenly, affecting a serious mien with Shimilin. The Cossack was visibly surprised at this. “What! Come later? What difference can it make?” “It might make some difference to your Ataman,” said Peter, purposely putting a dash of mystery into the sentence. “I do not demand, captain, that you come later. I merely advise it—for your own benefit. I can’t explain now—but if you will come back in an hour——” “Oh, no,” said Shimilin, though not quite sure of himself. “I am not to be prevented from carrying out my orders.” “I also have my orders,” said Peter significantly. “Oh,” said Shimilin. “It would be unfortunate if your orders conflicted with mine.” He drew his lips tightly across his teeth, and his eyes looked squarely into Peter’s. “True!” retorted Peter. “It would be unfortunate. But I have been talking with this old gentleman here—and we have not finished our conversation.” “What have you been talking about?” “That is a private matter between ourselves.” “Ah! Something about the Ataman, I presume,” said Shimilin, giving Michael a suspicious look. Then to Peter, “You would hardly believe a man who is sought by the Ataman to have anything good to say about him—if you could trust such a report by such a man.” “What this old gentleman has to say about the Ataman—good or bad—is likely to be borne out by the actions of the Ataman. You can see, Captain Shimilin, that if your Ataman did something which did not meet my approval—such as an arrest without sufficient warrant—I might be able to form my own opinion of the Ataman.” “Hmm!” sniffed Shimilin, and walked round slowly in a small circle, looking at the floor while he considered Peter’s words. He stopped abruptly and faced Peter, one eye partly closed. “Perhaps you have an idea that the Ataman Zorogoff has no rights to consider?”