"I have not seen those dreary forests, but I have heard and read of them; how packs of hungry wolves seek food and cannot find it; and how the _varnaks_--those wretches who have committed real crimes--infest the lonely pathways at evening to rob and murder. They say that the police kill them as dogs." "Pardon, mademoiselle; you must not credit these wild tales." "But I do believe them. Listen. This poor exile, after he had wandered for days in that dead land, was discovered by a band of Cossacks riding along a forest path. He was seized. Their officer cried out that he was a _varnak_, a _bradyaga_, and ordered that he should be shot. You start; perhaps this story has reached your ears?" "No, no," said the other, quickly. "Pray go on." "The exile protested that he was an escaped political prisoner. He was not believed. The officer again repeated his order. A soldier was about to obey, but the other threw the man from his horse. Instantly a dozen carbines were levelled, but the officer, convulsed with passion, cried out, 'You will tie this scoundrel to a tree, eight feet above the ground, and leave him to the wolves.' Ah! why do you recoil from me? Do you not believe this story? I tell you that it is absolutely true in every detail." Gabrielle was trembling with emotion. "It is quite cold out here; you will catch your death. Let us go indoors," said Vassilitch, harshly. She continued unheedingly. "The command of that monster was obeyed by his men. The victim was lashed to the trunk of a pine tree, high above the ground. The Cossacks rode away, laughing, and left him there until the wolves should come to surround the tree, to bite it through with their sharp teeth, and then--and then----" A gleam of lightning passed over the sky, and the rumble of thunder followed. "Do you recollect the talk at the table?" said Gabrielle; "about echoes? This act is one of those that return to break in thunder upon the perpetrator." The ex-captain of Cossacks shrugged his shoulders. "What is your request?" he demanded. Gabrielle stopped in the garden path and faced him. A faint light from the windows of the mansion fell upon her form with its perfect lines, its loveliness. She was conscious of her beauty then, and she knew that he was conscious of it. "Find the man who did this thing." He was silent. "You think me revengeful? I acknowledge it. Right or wrong, for three years I have prayed for this." "Mademoiselle, I must ask you two questions: The name of your informant?" "I am pledged not to give it. He was a trooper in the band who obeyed the orders of their officer." "That is unfortunate, for I should much like to know his name. Let that pass. Question number two: What was this prisoner to you that his fate should awake these feelings of deep sorrow and revenge?" For an instant Gabrielle hesitated, while his eyes appeared to be reading her inmost thoughts. Then she said, "He was a brother." "Ah!"