"I don't believe I should ever have lasted out the fortnight Papa had decreed if I hadn't made the discovery of an extremely picturesque old Frenchman who gained his living at Piatigorsk by acting as guide to foreigners on their expeditions in the mountains. He was a political criminal. I rather think he had been a friend of Vaillant. Anyhow, he had been exiled from France in Carnot's time, and, like every one else, had taken refuge in Russia. "He was a learned old fellow, but he had some peculiar ideas. I took a particular liking to him, mainly because Mlle. Jauffre used to throw up her hands and wail: 'What _would_ His Highness say!' every time he spoke to me of folk I'd never heard of before: Saint-Simon, Enfantin, Bazard, Karl Marx, Lassalle and the Iron Law. Heaven knows what else! "I had never read any Tolstoy. The old man lent me 'Resurrection.' I never knew such a world existed. I had Tolstoy's social creed expounded to me, to tease Mlle. Jauffre. The old man was jubilant. 'Oh, mademoiselle! If only you _would_, what a chance!' "The result was that when we left Piatigorsk I took old Barbessoul (for that was his name) back with me. Papa was certainly somewhat astonished to see the patriarch in our train, but, as I looked so well, said nothing. To tell the truth, he was used to my caprices. "He did more. Quite close to the island in the Volga on which the palace stood was another small island, perhaps a square half-verst in area. Papa gave it to me, and with it fifty moujiks, men, women and children. There, under the old man's direction, I set up a socialist community, half Saint-Simon, half Tolstoy: no private property, division of the instruments of labour according to needs and capacities, etc., etc. "At first all went well. I spent four hours a day in my socialist paradise. Old Barbessoul was triumphant. His part in the organization was something between priest and foreman. Papa thought I was mad. "You won't be surprised to hear I had soon had enough of it, if only because things began to go wrong. Feeling safe under my protection, the members of the community used to go out in boats at night to rob the hen-roosts of the riverside farmers. Papa had very kindly consented to relieve them of taxation and compulsory labour. It was perfectly alarming the amount of kwass they drank. Old Barbessoul was the only one who couldn't perceive how strongly they smelt of drink, even the women. Why, after two months, one of them found himself the possessor of all the agricultural implements. All the others had pawned them to get kwass. Then, as they could not work, they loafed about all day and spent the night robbing the neighbouring peasants. One night there was a regular battle. Two moujiks were killed. Papa was wild with rage, called me a silly fool, and wanted to hang old Barbessoul. On my entreaties he refrained, but the community was broken up.