“Dear me; now you’ve found out my se—ecret! I told him to shut the door. Now, my friend, you must give me your word in—stantly, that you’ll never breathe a hint of this to anyone—I mean about my hair being ar—tificial!” “Oh, uncle! As if I could be guilty of such meanness?” cried Paul, who was anxious to please the prince, for reasons of his own. “Ye—yes, ye—yes. Well, as I see you are a good fe—ellow, I—I’ll just as—tonish you a little: I’ll tell you all my secrets! How do you like my mous—tache, my dear boy?” “Wonderful, uncle, wonderful! It astonishes me that you should have been able to keep it so long!” “Sp—are your wonder, my friend, it’s ar—tificial!” “No!! That’s difficult to believe! Well, and your whiskers, uncle! admit—you black them, now _don’t_ you?” “Black them? Not—only I don’t black them, but they, too, are ar—tificial!” said the Prince, regarding Mosgliakoff with a look of triumph. “_What!_ Artificial? No, no, uncle! I can’t believe _that_! You’re laughing at me!” “_Parole d’honneur, mon ami!_” cried the delighted old man; “and fancy, all—everybody is taken in by them just as you were! Even Stepanida Matveyevna cannot believe they are not real, sometimes, although she often sticks them on herself! But, I am sure, my dear friend, you will keep my se—cret. Give me your word!” “I do give you my word, uncle! But surely you do not suppose I would be so mean as to divulge it?” “Oh, my boy! I had such a fall to-day, without you. The coachman upset me out of the carriage again!” “How? When?” “Why, we were driving to the mo—nastery, when?——” “I know, uncle: that was early this morning!” “No, no! A couple of hours ago, not more! I was driving along with him, and he suddenly took and up—set me!” “Why, my dear uncle, you were asleep,” began Paul, in amazement! “Ye—yes, ye—yes. I did have a sleep; and then I drove away, at least I—at least I—dear me, how strange it all seems!” “I assure you, uncle, you have been dreaming! You saw all this in a dream! You have been sleeping quietly here since just after dinner!” “No!” And the prince reflected. “Ye—yes. Perhaps I did see it all in a dream! However, I can remember all I saw quite well. First, I saw a large bull with horns; and then I saw a pro—curor, and I think he had huge horns too. Then there was Napoleon Buonaparte. Did you ever hear, my boy, that people say I am so like Napoleon Buonaparte? But my profile is very like some old pope. What do you think about it, my bo—oy?” “I think you are much more like Napoleon Buonaparte, uncle!” “Why, ye—yes, of course—full face; so I am, my boy, so I am! I dreamt of him on his is—land, and do you know he was such a merry, talk—ative fellow, he quite am—used me!” “Who, uncle—Napoleon?” asked Mosgliakoff, looking thoughtfully at the old man. A strange idea was beginning to occupy his brain—an idea which he could not quite put into shape as yet.