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Updated: June 25, 2025
Thanks to you, Kostia Petrovitch, my mind has acquired a perspicuity for which I shall be eternally grateful to you. "This declaration touched him; he loved me the more for it. He has always had a weakness for men who listen to reason. Until then, notwithstanding the marks of affection which he lavished upon me, he had always made me feel the distance between us.
To disabuse him, it needed but that tragic meeting of which I was informed too late. In breathing his last sigh, Morlof extended his hand to his murderer and gasped 'I die innocent! And in these last words of a dying man, there was such an accent of truth that Count Kostia could not resist it: light broke in upon his soul."
But I had already opened the door. "Excuse me," said I, "I will be with you in a moment." And while saying these words I was so pale that she became pale, too, as if assailed by a dark presentiment. Kostia Petrovitch did not detain me long. After saluting me with ceremonious politeness, he said in a bantering tone: "Vladimir, faith she is really charming.
Charles Victor Cherbuliez was born in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1829, studied history and philosophy in Paris, Bonn and Berlin and travelled widely, gathering material that he used in social and political essays and also in fiction. He won fame with his first novel, "Count Kostia," published in 1863. After that date his romances followed in quick succession.
At the beginning of the summer of 1850, a Russian nobleman, Count Kostia Petrovitch Leminof, had the misfortune to lose his wife suddenly, and in the flower of her beauty. She was his junior by twelve years.
"As I've said all I could lay my hands on. The old boy'll think the end of the world has come." Razumov nodded from the couch, and contemplated the hare-brained fellow's gravity with a feeling of malicious pleasure. "I've made my little sacrifice," sighed mad Kostia. "And I've to thank you, Kirylo Sidorovitch, for the opportunity." "It has cost you something?" "Yes, it has.
In a few moments he had collected his thoughts, and was ashamed of his terror; but in spite of himself his agitation was such that at every noise which struck his ear, he thought he heard the step of Count Kostia ascending the staircase of his turret.
At this moment the door of the alcove opened and Count Kostia appeared upon the threshold, terrible, threatening, his lips curling with a sinister smile. At this sight his daughter slowly raised her head, then took a few steps towards him, and for the first time dared to look that father in the face, who for so many years had held her bowed and shuddering under his iron hand.
The bloody marks of his nails were visible on his face; forehead and cheeks were furrowed with them. He informed Gilbert that towards noon Count Kostia would go out with Vladimir Paulitch and would be absent the rest of the day. "He left me here to watch you and to render an account to him upon his return of all I should see and hear.
Count Kostia was gifted with a quick and ready intellect, which he had strengthened by study. He had always been passionately fond of historical research, but above everything, knew and wished to know, only that which the English call "the matter of fact."
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