Silence followed.
“They say in England,” said the prince, “that when there is a spirit in the room every light burns blue; but see, now they are burning yellow, as usual.”
“Trash!” answered Sakovich. “There are people in Moscow—”
“But be still!” interrupted Boguslav. “The sword-bearer is coming. No! that is the wind moving the shutters. The devils have brought that old maid of an aunt, Kulvyets-Hippocentaurus! Has any one ever heard of the like? And she looks like a chimera.”
“If you wish, your highness, I’ll marry her; then she will not be in the way, Plaska will solder us while you are waiting.”
“Well, I will give her a maple spade as a marriage present, and you a lantern, so as to have something to light her way.”
“I will not be your uncle—Bogus.”
“Remember Castor,” answered the prince.
“Do not stroke Castor, my Pollux, against the grain, for he can bite.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the sword-bearer and Panna Kulvyets. The prince stepped up to him quickly, leaning on his hammer. Sakovich rose.