“But who?” asked Pavel, continuing to walk along the deserted river side.
“The apparition disappeared at my approach. I was just leaving at that time your banker, Sutherland. You did not notice me, but I saw you both, and I involuntarily startled the apparition of the great man.”
The count stopped; he was amused, and at the same time indignant at the impudence of the magician, and yet there remained something more to be learnt.
“You are joking,” said he. “How is it you were in Petersburg, and no one heard anything of it?”
“I had that pleasure—but for a very short time. I was received in a very unfriendly manner. As a foreigner, and one fond of knowledge, I had expected to obtain more attention. But the first minister offended me deeply; he invited me to leave the country. I withdrew my money from the bankers, and that very same night left Petersburg.”
“Fool, jackanapes!” thought the count, contemptuously smiling; “what inventions, what yarns he can spin.”
“Allow me to offer my apologies for the rudeness of our ministers,” said the count, with the most elaborate politeness, slightly touching his hat with his hand. “But can you explain to me the meaning of the words of the apparition?”
“It would be better not to seek to know the meaning of the apparition,” answered the stranger. “There are things … on which it is better to let the Fates be silent.…”
At that moment the sounds of a lute came floating from the great lagoon. Some one seated in a gondola was singing. Pavel eagerly listened; it was his favourite hymn. It brought back to his recollection the Manor of Pavlovski, the musical mornings at Nelidova’s, and her intercession for Rakitina.