“I am not meandering; I am only speaking the truth. It is as well not to praise the dream before it has proved true. Your Highness indulges in building castles in the air. You won’t listen to us humble folk; you heed only those who deceive you. Both Tolstoi, the Judas, and Kikin, the Atheist, both are traitors. Be on your guard, my lord, you are not the first they have betrayed.”
“I spit upon them all, if only the people stand by me! When the time comes and my father is dead, I will whisper to the prelates, and the prelates to the priests, and the priests to their flock, and they will make me Tsar, whether I will or no.”
The old man remained silent, his face still bore the same stubborn, morose expression which clearly said, “This kind of talk is all very fine, but how will it work?”
“Why don’t you say something?” said Alexis.
“What should I say, Tsarevitch, it is for you to decide. But as for running away from your father, I do not advise it.”
“And why not?”
“Simply for this reason; it’s all very well if you succeed, but suppose you fail, I shall have to bear the consequences. As it is you are ever ready to vent your wrath on me. We are unimportant people, yet we, too, can feel.”
“Be on your guard, Afanássieff, and don’t let any one know I told you. No one, save you and Kikin, knows of my plans. But even if you should report, you won’t be believed; I will deny everything, you will be tortured.”
Alexis had made this addition about the torture just for the sake of teasing the old man.