The Vagrant Duke | Page 3

his hand on the bell-rope as a thought brought a
deeper frown to his brow.... Why had Conrad Grabar, his chief forester,
said nothing to-day? He must have known--for news such as this
travels from leaf to leaf through the forest. Conrad! And yet he would
have sworn by the faithfulness of his old friend and hunting companion.
Perhaps Conrad had not known....
The Grand Duke pulled the bell-rope, then went to the window again
and stood as though listening for the voices of the woods. Silence. The
sun had sunk, a dull red ball, and the dusk was falling swiftly. The
aspens below his window quivered slightly, throwing their white leaves
upwards as though in pain. The stately pines that he loved, mute,
solemn, changeless, filled the air with balsam, but they gave no answer
to his problem. It was difficult to believe that, there, in the restless
souls of men war could rage. And yet ...
He peered out more intently. Beyond the pine forest, a murky cloud
was rising. A storm? Hardly. For the sun had set in a clear sky. But
there was a cloud surely, growing in darkness and intensity. He could

see it more clearly now, billowing upward in grim portent.
The Grand Duke started and then stared again. The cloud was of smoke.
Through the woods, tiny lights were sparkling, picked out with
ominous brilliancy against the velvet dusk. Peter Nicholaevitch leaned
far out of the window, straining his ears to listen. And now he seemed
to hear the crackle of flames, the distant sound of hoarse voices,
shouting and singing.
And while he still listened, aware that a great crisis had come into his
life, there was a commotion just below him, the sownd of voices close
at hand and he saw a man come running from the woods, approaching
the gateway of the Castle.
He recognized him by the gray beard and thickset figure. It was Boris
Rylov, the Huntsman, and as he ran he shouted to some one in the
courtyard below. The Grand Duke made out the words:
"They're burning the Hunting Lodge--where is the Master----?"
Peter Nicholaevitch waited at the window no longer, but ran out of the
room and down the flight of stairs into the great hall below. For he
knew what had happened now. The Red Terror had come to Zukovo.
He went out to the garden terrace, crossing quickly ta the courtyard
where he met the frightened group of servants that had assembled.
Boris, the Huntsman, much out of breath was waving his arms
excitedly toward the cloud of smoke rising above the pine trees, now
tinged a dirty orange color from beneath.
"They came from all directions, Master," he gasped, "like the black
flies upon a dead horse--hundreds--thousands of them from the village
and all the country round. I talked with the first that came, Anton
Lensky, Gleb Saltykov, Michael Kuprin and Conrad Grabar--"
"Conrad----!" gasped the Grand Duke.

"Yes, Highness," muttered Boris, his head bowed "Conrad Grabar.
They tried to restrain me. Michael Kuprin I struck upon the head with a
stick--and then I fled--to warn your Highness--that they mean to come
hither."
The face of the Grand Duke, a trifle pale under its tan, was set in stern
lines, but there was no fear in his man-*
*ner as he quickly questioned, his eyes eagerly scrutinizing the
frightened men and women about him while he spoke to them with cool
decision.
"Thanks, Friend Rylov--you have done me a service I shall not forget."
Then to the others, "If there are any of you who fear to remain with me,
you may go. I cannot believe that they will come to Zukovo Castle, but
we will close the gate to the courtyard at once. I will talk with them
from the terrace wall."
"Master! Highness!" broke in the Huntsman violently, "you do not
understand. You cannot stay here. They are mad. They will kill you. It
is for that they come--"
"Nevertheless--I mean to stay--"
"It is death--"
"Go thou, then, and Vasili, and Ivan. For before they burn Zukovo, I
mean to talk with them--"
"It is madness----!"
"Come, Highness," broke in Leo Garshin, the head-groom, eagerly, "I
will put the saddle upon Vera, and you can go out of the iron gate from
the stable-yard into the forest. Nothing can catch you and you can reach
the river---"
"No, Leo--" put in the Grand Duke kindly. "I shall stay."
The servants glanced at one another, appalled at the Master's attitude.

Some of them, had already disappeared into the Castle but others, less
timorous, had already rushed to close the courtyard gate.
"You say they are many, Friend Rylov?" he asked again.
"As the hairs of your head, Master--from Ivanovna,
Jaroslav--everywhere--and women, Highness, more