Gregory, profiting by his liberty and wishing to make use of his thousand roubles, bought a little tavern on the outskirts of the town, where, thanks to his address and to the acquaintances he had among the servants in the great households of St. Petersburg, he began to develop an excellent business, so that in a short time the Red House (which was the name and colour of Gregory’s establishment) had a great reputation. Another man took over his duties about the person of the general, and but for Foedor’s absence everything returned to its usual routine in the house of Count Tchermayloff. Two months went by in this way, without anybody having the least suspicion of what had happened, when one morning before the usual breakfast-hour the general begged his daughter to come down to his room. Vaninka trembled with fear, for since that fatal night everything terrified her. She obeyed her father, and collecting all her strength, made her way to his chamber, The count was alone, but at the first glance Vaninka saw she had nothing to fear from this interview: the general was waiting for her with that paternal smile which was the usual expression of his countenance when in his daughter’s presence. She approached, therefore, with her usual calmness, and, stooping down towards the general, gave him her forehead to kiss. He motioned to her to sit down, and gave her an open letter. Vaninka looked at him for a moment in surprise, then turned her eyes to the letter. It contained the news of the death of the man to whom her hand had been promised: he had been killed in a duel. The general watched the effect of the letter on his daughter’s face, and great as was Vaninka’s self-control, so many different thoughts, such bitter regret, such poignant remorse assailed her when she learnt that she was now free again, that she could not entirely conceal her emotion. The general noticed it, and attributed it to the love which he had for a long time suspected his daughter felt for the young aide-de-camp. “Well,” he said, smiling, “I see it is all for the best.” “How is that, father?” asked Vaninka. “Doubtless,” said the general. “Did not Foedor leave because he loved you?” “Yes,” murmured the young girl. “Well, now he may return,” said the general. Vaninka remained silent, her eyes fixed, her lips trembling. “Return!” she said, after a moment’s silence. “Yes, certainly return. We shall be most unfortunate,” continued the general, smiling, “if we cannot find someone in the house who knows where he is. Come, Vaninka, tell me the place of his exile, and I will undertake the rest.” “Nobody knows where Foedor is,” murmured Vaninka in a hollow voice; “nobody but God, nobody!” “What!” said the general, “he has sent you no news since the day he left?” Vaninka shook her head in denial. She was so heart-broken that she could not speak. The general in his turn became gloomy. “Do you fear some misfortune, then?” said he.