Michael Strogoff | Page 2

affable demeanor, and physiognomy
calm, though bearing traces of anxiety, moved from group to group,
seldom speaking, and appearing to pay but little attention either to the
merriment of the younger guests or the graver remarks of the exalted
dignitaries or members of the diplomatic corps who represented at the
Russian court the principal governments of Europe. Two or three of
these astute politicians--physiognomists by virtue of their profession--
failed not to detect on the countenance of their host symptoms of
disquietude, the source of which eluded their penetration; but none
ventured to interrogate him on the subject.
It was evidently the intention of the officer of chasseurs that his own
anxieties should in no way cast a shade over the festivities; and, as he
was a personage whom almost the population of a world in itself was
wont to obey, the gayety of the ball was not for a moment checked.
Nevertheless, General Kissoff waited until the officer to whom he had
just communicated the dispatch forwarded from Tomsk should give
him permission to withdraw; but the latter still remained silent. He had
taken the telegram, he had read it carefully, and his visage became even
more clouded than before. Involuntarily he sought the hilt of his sword,
and then passed his hand for an instant before his eyes, as though,
dazzled by the brilliancy of the light, he wished to shade them, the
better to see into the recesses of his own mind.
"We are, then," he continued, after having drawn General Kissoff aside
towards a window, "since yesterday without intelligence from the
Grand Duke?"
"Without any, sire; and it is to be feared that in a short time dispatches
will no longer cross the Siberian frontier."

"But have not the troops of the provinces of Amoor and Irkutsk, as
those also of the Trans-Balkan territory, received orders to march
immediately upon Irkutsk?"
"The orders were transmitted by the last telegram we were able to send
beyond Lake Baikal."
"And the governments of Yeniseisk, Omsk, Semipolatinsk, and
Tobolsk--are we still in direct communication with them as before the
insurrection?"
"Yes, sire; our dispatches have reached them, and we are assured at the
present moment that the Tartars have not advanced beyond the Irtish
and the Obi."
"And the traitor Ivan Ogareff, are there no tidings of him?"
"None," replied General Kissoff. "The head of the police cannot state
whether or not he has crossed the frontier."
"Let a description of him be immediately dispatched to Nijni-Novgorod,
Perm, Ekaterenburg, Kasirnov, Tioumen, Ishim, Omsk, Tomsk, and to
all the telegraphic stations with which communication is yet open."
"Your majesty's orders shall be instantly carried out."
"You will observe the strictest silence as to this."
The General, having made a sign of respectful assent, bowing low,
mingled with the crowd, and finally left the apartments without his
departure being remarked.
The officer remained absorbed in thought for a few moments, when,
recovering himself, he went among the various groups in the saloon,
his countenance reassuming that calm aspect which had for an instant
been disturbed.
Nevertheless, the important occurrence which had occasioned these
rapidly exchanged words was not so unknown as the officer of the

chasseurs of the guard and General Kissoff had possibly supposed. It
was not spoken of officially, it is true, nor even officiously, since
tongues were not free; but a few exalted personages had been informed,
more or less exactly, of the events which had taken place beyond the
frontier. At any rate, that which was only slightly known, that which
was not matter of conversation even between members of the corps
diplomatique, two guests, distinguished by no uniform, no decoration,
at this reception in the New Palace, discussed in a low voice, and with
apparently very correct information.
By what means, by the exercise of what acuteness had these two
ordinary mortals ascertained that which so many persons of the highest
rank and importance scarcely even suspected? It is impossible to say.
Had they the gifts of foreknowledge and foresight? Did they possess a
supplementary sense, which enabled them to see beyond that limited
horizon which bounds all human gaze? Had they obtained a peculiar
power of divining the most secret events? Was it owing to the habit,
now become a second nature, of living on information, that their mental
constitution had thus become really transformed? It was difficult to
escape from this conclusion.
Of these two men, the one was English, the other French; both were tall
and thin, but the latter was sallow as are the southern Provencals, while
the former was ruddy like a Lancashire gentleman. The Anglo-Norman,
formal, cold, grave, parsimonious of gestures and words, appeared only
to speak or gesticulate under the influence of a spring operating at
regular intervals. The Gaul, on