"Come, come, then," said Peter, "we've made a start. I congratulate you, Mr. Private-soldier Boris Ivanitch, and may your promotion be speedy!"
Boris began to think that the Tsar was scarcely treating an old friend very generously. He grinned, however, weakly, because there was nothing else to do, and said he was "much obliged."
"Let me see," Peter continued, after a pause; "was it you or was it another who saved me from an old she-bear at Archangel some years since?"
Boris began to fear for the Tsar's reason, but he replied,—
"It was I, your Majesty; but then you had befriended me a few days before, so that we were quits for that."
"What! the bear you ran away from? Dear me! yes; so I did. Well, well, never mind that. As I was about to observe, in consideration of the service you did me on that day, I think you might be allowed a step in rank—say a corporal. You are promoted, Mr. Corporal!"
"I am extremely obliged," said poor Boris, bewildered.
"Who was it behaved rather well that afternoon when the pack of wolves attacked us?" asked Peter, with perfectly-assumed seriousness, a minute or two later. "Was it you or old Ivan the driver?"
"Oh, Ivan, your Majesty," said Boris, nettled at the Tsar's levity.