“Oh! my God!” she cried, unable to keep back her tears; “the last consolation, the last token of remembrance, and that is gone! What shall I carry away with me now?”
Vâra looked reproachfully at her uncle.
“Afterwards, dear young lady; in time you shall know everything, but now it is better to be silent,” said the priest in a decided voice. “God’s ways are not our ways. The enemy’s path is full of snares. Pray to God; He will have mercy.”
But the priest was not to be left in peace. That very day he was again called to the commander-in-chief.
“Well, did you get anything from the captive?” asked Galitzin.
“Excuse me, your Grace,” answered Father Peter, “but the secrets of the Confession.… No! I cannot, I dare not.”
Galitzin became embarrassed.
“What a commission!” thought Galitzin, blushing. “Ah, those counsellors.… Orloff, you can see, unable to rest, is again inventing something at Moscow, and I—play the Inquisitor.…”
“Well, Batiushka! that’s my orders from high.…”