His singularly beautiful face was very pale; there was a strange calmness in his manner; and whatever he thought or anticipated, there was more of calm inquiry than of fear in his tone and in the expression of his fine soft eyes. Over his night-dress he had thrown a _robe-de-chambre_ of fine scarlet cloth edged with white ermine; and in this attire, with his long hair and delicate features, so chastened in expression by long solitude and complete seclusion from the outer world, he seemed more like a tall handsome woman, than a young man of three and twenty years. "What is this you tell me, Colonel Bernikoff," he was asking, as Balgonie entered; "my unhappy life threatened say you?" "Even so," said Bernikoff hoarsely, while averting his stealthy eyes from the young man's open and earnest face; "even so, Ivan Antonovitch; but your death will not be of our seeking." "Whose then, whose then?" "Your friends." "Oh, what dreadful paradox is this?" asked the Prince calmly; "must I die, even as Demetrius died?" "Yes," replied the other hoarsely. "And wherefore?" "There are those without the gates who seek you, and you must not fall alive into their hands," said Captain Vlasfief sternly, as he felt the point of his sabre with a finger. "Alas! I do not understand who can come to seek me!" replied the poor Prince, shuddering now, while an expression of horror began to spread over his fine face,--a horror gathered from the fierce and relentless aspect he read in the visages of those around him,--and he withdrew a pace or so towards his bed, saying, in a touching voice:-- "Ah, do not leave me, good Colonel Bernikoff, or at least give me a sword--a sword----" "Fool--child--dolt! thou with a sword, and for what purpose?" thundered Bernikoff, as he sought to lash himself into the requisite pitch of fury; "for what purpose, I say?" "That I may defend myself." "'Tis needless," said Tschekin, with a cold smile; "we shall take every care of you." "Oh, Carl Ivanovitch Balgonie, my friend, my good friend! you I can trust--you I can command--come hither, and remain by my side," said the Prince, in an imploring accent, as a solemn foreboding came upon him when he saw the sabres stealthily drawn from their scabbards on every side, and even the terrible Nicholas Paulovitch drawing near, dagger in hand, with his long lock of hair, his scowling front, and a cruel expression, the very lust of blood, in his deep-set stony eyes. "Carl, Carl," cried Ivan; "your hand!" "Captain Balgonie--_he_ here!" roared Bernikoff, with one of his terrible maledictions. "Oh Excellency!" implored Balgonie, scarcely knowing what he should ask or urge. "Begone, sir, to the barrier gate, and keep the guard there to their duty--begone, sir, I command you, on your allegiance to the Empress!"