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Updated: May 13, 2025
When she saw him she ran to him. He had already reached the dining-room. "Anyone in the house?" he asked. "No one. Natacha has not returned, and..." "Your step-daughter is coming in now. Ask her where she has been, if she has seen the orderlies, and if they said they would return this evening, in case she answers that she has seen them." "Very well, little domovoi doukh.
As for him, he had not hoped that anything would come to pass until toward dawn, the moment, as everyone knows, when deep sleep is most apt to vanquish all watchfulness and all insomnia. And as he waited for that moment he had not budged any more than a Chinese ape or the dear little porcelain domovoi doukh in the garden. Of course it might be that it was not to happen this night.
"You are not curious, little domovoi doukh! A friend of the house, certainly, and who enters the house as he wishes, by night, because someone opens the window for him. And who comes from the Krestowsky Villa! Boris or Michael! Ah, poor miserable Matrena! Why don't they kill poor Matrena? Their general! Their general! And they are soldiers soldiers who come at night to kill their general.
"Eh, my little domovoi doukh, I am going to carry you there in my arms." Matrena extended her large round arms ready to take Rouletabille as though he had been a baby. "No, no. I will get up there all right alone," said Rouletabille, rising stupidly and appearing ashamed of his excessive sleepiness.
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