"Proceed! You ought to know that better than I, and, besides, your memory and knowledge have been sufficiently attested here."
"In Moscow he against his uncle's will left the army," continued the one whose memory and knowledge had been attested, "and there he gathered around him a second society, of which he was the progenitor and the heart, if it be possible so to express it. He was rich, handsome, clever, educated; they say he was exceedingly amiable. My aunt used to tell me that she did not know a more bewitching man. Here he married Miss Krínski, a few months before the revolt broke out."
"The daughter of Nikoláy Krínski, the one of Borodinó fame, you know," somebody interrupted him.
"Well, yes. Her immense fortune he still possesses, but his own paternal estate passed over to his younger brother, Prince Iván, who is now Ober-Hof-Kaffermeister" (he gave him some such name) "and was a minister."
"The best thing is what he did for his brother," continued the narrator. "When he was arrested, there was one thing which he succeeded in destroying, and that was his brother's letters and documents."
"Was his brother mixed up in it, too?"
The narrator did not say "Yes," but compressed his lips and gave a significant wink.
"Then, during all the inquests Peter Labázov kept denying everything which concerned his brother, and so suffered more than the rest. But the best part of it is that Prince Iván got all the property, and never sent a penny to his brother."
"They say that Peter Labázov himself declined it," remarked one of the hearers.