"Holy Saints! they are afraid to make a reisak!"
Ivan crossed himself and
sprang. He cleared the rocks, but,
instead of bursting through the ice with his head, fell at full
length upon his back.
"O knave!" yelled the Prince,--"not to know where his head is!
Thinks it's his back! Give him fifteen stripes."
Which was
instantly done.
The second attempt was
partially successful. One of the
hunters
broke through the ice, head
foremost, going down, but he failed to
come up again; so the feat was only half performed.
The Prince became more
furiously excited.
"This is the way I'm treated!" he cried. "He forgets all about
finishing the reisak, and goes to chasing sterlet! May the carps
eat him up for an ungrateful vagabond! Here, you beggars!"
(addressing the poor relations,) "take your turn, and let me see
whether you are men."
Only one of the frightened parasites had the courage to obey. On
reaching the brink, he shut his eyes in
mortal fear, and made a
leap at
random. The next moment he lay on the edge of the ice with
one leg broken against a
fragment of rock.
This capped the
climax of the Prince's wrath. He fell into a state
bordering on
despair, tore his hair, gnashed his teeth, and wept
bitterly.
"They will be the death of me!" was his
lament. "Not a man among
them! It wasn't so in the old times. Such beautiful reisaks as
I have seen! But the people are becoming women,--hares,--
chickens,--skunks! Villains, will you force me to kill you?
You have dishonored and
disgraced me; I am
ashamed to look my
neighbors in the face. Was ever a man so treated?"
The serfs hung down their heads, feeling somehow
responsible for
their master's
misery. Some of them wept, out of a
stupid sympathy
with his tears.
All at once he
sprang down from the cask, crying in a gay,
triumphant tone,--
"I have it! Bring me Crop-Ear. He's the fellow for a reisak,--
he can make three, one after another."
One of the boldest ventured to suggest that Crop-Ear had been sent
away in
disgrace to another of the Prince's
estates.
"Bring him here, I say? Take horses, and don't draw rein going or
coming. I will not stir from this spot until Crop-Ear comes."
With these words, he mounted the
barrel, and recommenced ladling
out the wine. Huge fires were made, for the night was falling, and
the cold had become
intense. Fresh game was skewered and set to
broil, and the
tragic interlude of the revel was soon forgotten.
Towards
midnight the sound of hoofs was heard, and the messengers
arrived with Crop-Ear. But, although the latter had lost his ears,
he was not inclined to split his head. The ice,
meanwhile, had
become so strong that a cannon-ball would have made no impression
upon it. Crop-Ear simply threw down a stone heavier than himself,
and, as it bounced and slid along the solid floor, said to Prince
Alexis,--
"Am I to go back, Highness, or stay here?"
"Here, my son. Thou'rt a man. Come
hither to me."
Taking the serf's head in his hands, he kissed him on both cheeks.
Then he rode
homeward through the dark, iron woods, seated astride
on the
barrel, and steadying himself with his arms around Crop-
Ear's and Waska's necks.
VIII.
The health of the Princess Martha, always
delicate, now began to
fail rapidly. She was less and less able to
endure her husband's
savage humors, and lived almost
exclusively in her own apartments.
She never mentioned the name of Boris in his presence, for it was
sure to throw him into a paroxysm of fury. Floating rumors in
regard to the young Prince had reached him from the capital, and
nothing would
convince him that his wife was not cognizant of her
son's
doings. The poor Princess clung to her boy as to all that
was left her of life, and tried to prop her failing strength with
the hope of his
speedy return. She was now too
helpless to thwart
his wishes in any way; but she dreaded, more than death, the
terrible SOMETHING which would surely take place between father