The two who were making the wager shook hands, and the agreement was perfected. Then, with an air of confidence, assumed to confound the witnesses of this strange scene, Ivan wrapped himself in the fur coat which, like a cautious man, he had spread on the stove, and went out. At the end of half an hour he reappeared. “Well!” cried Gregory and the two slaves together. “She is following,” said Ivan. The three tipplers looked at one another in amazement, but Ivan quietly returned to his place in the middle of them, poured out a new bumper, and raising his glass, cried— “To my lady’s health! It is the least we can do when she is kind enough to come and join us on so cold a night, when the snow is falling fast.” “Annouschka,” said a voice outside, “knock at this door and ask Gregory if he has not some of our servants with him.” Gregory and the two other slaves looked at one another, stupefied: they had recognised Vaninka’s voice. As for Ivan, he flung himself back in his chair, balancing himself with marvellous impertinence. Annouschka opened the door, and they could see, as Ivan had said, that the snow was falling heavily. “Yes, madam,” said the girl; “my brother is there, with Daniel and Alexis.” Vaninka entered. “My friends,” said she, with a strange smile, “I am told that you were drinking my health, and I have come to bring you something to drink it again. Here is a bottle of old French brandy which I have chosen for you from my father’s cellar. Hold out your glasses.” Gregory and the slaves obeyed with the slowness and hesitation of astonishment, while Ivan held out his glass with the utmost effrontery. Vaninka filled them to the brim herself, and then, as they hesitated to drink, “Come, drink to my health, friends,” said she. “Hurrah!” cried the drinkers, reassured by the kind and familiar tone of their noble visitor, as they emptied their glasses at a draught. Vaninka at once poured them out another glass; then putting the bottle on the table, “Empty the bottle, my friends,” said she, “and do not trouble about me. Annouschka and I, with the permission 2668 of the master of the house, will sit near the stove till the storm is over.” Gregory tried to rise and place stools near the stove, but whether he was quite drunk or whether some narcotic had been mixed with the brandy, he fell back on his seat, trying to stammer out an excuse. “It is all right,” said Vaninka: “do not disturb yourselves; drink, my friends, drink.” The revellers profited by this permission, and each emptied the glass before him. Scarcely had Gregory emptied his before he fell forward on the table. “Good!” said Vaninka to her maid in a low voice: “the opium is taking effect.” “What do you mean to do?” said Annouschka. “You will soon see,” was the answer.