Paul looked grave; to his mind there was something strangely impressive in the quiet dignity of this old man as he stood on the steps of the inn-door, his cap doffed and his eyes raised to the star-lit sky. CHAPTER VII WHAT HAPPENED IN RUSSOGRAD Though Katina was an avowed foe of all Muscovites, she nevertheless possessed a characteristic in common with them,--a passion for furious driving. With a stamp of her pretty red shoes, and with cries that sounded somewhat wild on the night air, she urged the horses to their full speed. She carried a short-handed whip with a long leathern thong, but she used it only to lash the air. Amid the tintinnabulation of a peal of silvery bells hung from the duga, the spirited coursers plunged forward, as if each were holding a race with the other, Katina handling the team with a dexterity that evoked Paul's admiration. Now where the road was broad she would spread the galloping horses outwards like a fan; and now where its narrowness seemed to preclude all possibility of passage, she would draw them together till they appeared to occupy the space of one, without delaying for a moment her onward rush. Occasionally she would rise from her seat and bend gracefully forward over the horses in an attitude suggestive of a Grecian charioteer, bidding the two friends with a merry laugh to "Hold fast," and the next moment they would be racing down a steep descent; a sudden splash, a drenching shower of spray, and ere the two friends had time to realize that they were crossing a stream, the ponies would be tugging the troika up the opposite bank. The marvels performed by this daughter of Mazeppa in guiding her vehicle along the edge of a declivity, or in avoiding some obstacle that suddenly appeared in her path, are past all belief; and though Paul expected every moment to see the troika fall to pieces, the rapid see-saw motion which in some persons causes all the sensations of _mal de mer_, was both novel and pleasant, the rush of air producing an exhilaration of spirits that quickly effaced from his mind the uneasy presentiment caused by the words of the old istvostchik. "At this pace we ought soon to overtake Marshal Zabern," remarked Paul. "We are not following the same road," replied Katina. "In journeying to Slavowitz I myself always take this route, though it is more circuitous. I renew my patriotism when in sight of that building." She had brought the troika to a standstill, and was now pointing to a large monastery that rose in solemn mediæval grandeur at the distance of about a hundred yards from the roadside.