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Below them, stretching away beneath the brilliant moonlight, lay the country that was his inheritance, an estate as large as a large English county. Immediately beneath them, at the foot of the great rock upon which the castle was built, nestled the village of Osterno straggling, squalid. "Oh!" she said dully, "this is Siberia; this is terrible!"
The moujiks of Osterno gazed at him beneath their shaggy brows. Half of them did not understand him. They were as yet uneducated to a comprehension of the street orator's periods. A few of the more intelligent waited for him to answer his own questions, which he failed to do.
It is possible that Karl Steinmetz suspected the late Princess Natásha of having transmitted to her son a small hereditary portion of that Slavonic exaltation and recklessness of consequence which he deplored. "Then you turn back at Tver?" enquired Paul, at length breaking a long silence. "Yes; I must not leave Osterno just now. Perhaps later, when the winter has come, I will follow.
Fill up your glasses fill up your glasses!" The little fathers of Osterno understood this part of the harangue perfectly, and acted upon it. The orator scratched his head reflectively. There was a certain business-like mouthing of his periods, showing that he had learnt all this by heart. He did not press all his points home in the manner of one speaking from his own brain.
He was like a woman, inasmuch as he judged a person by a flicker of the eyelids a glance, a silence in preference to judging by the spoken word. "Then with us both to take care of you, may we hope that you will brave the perils of Osterno? Ah the music is stopping." "If I may assure my mother that there are no perils."
"Ah, Catrina," said Paul, "we have broken new ground for you. There was no track from here to Osterno through the forest. I made one this afternoon, so you have no excuse for remaining away, now." "Thank you," answered Catrina, withdrawing her cold hand hurriedly from his friendly grasp. "Miss Delafield," went on Paul, "admires our country as much as you do."
There are things of which we never speak together there is one name that is never mentioned. Since Osterno you have avoided meeting him. God knows I am not asking for him any thing that he would be afraid to ask for himself. But he also has his pride. He will not force himself in where he thinks his presence unwelcome." Steinmetz rose somewhat ponderously and stood looking down at her.
Paul was an easy subject for such treatment. His own method inclined to err on the side of reticence. He gave few confidences and asked none, as is the habit of Englishmen. "Well," he said, "I do not suppose he will stay long at Thors, and I know that he will not stay at all at Osterno. Besides, what harm can he actually do to us? He cannot well go about making enquiries.
There are nine hundred souls in Osterno; are you going to bow down before one man? All men are equal moujik and bárin, krestyanin and prince.
"Yes, if you like," answered Paul, in some surprise. The clock struck ten, and Etta's eyes recovered their brightness. Womanlike, she lived for the present. The responsibility of the future is essentially a man's affair. The present contained a ball, and it was only in the future that Osterno and Russia had to be faced. Let us also give Etta Alexis her due. She was almost fearless.
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