“There is no need of names or titles.”
“Or of precautions here!” I rejoined impatiently. “Remember, we are in England, man!”
“True, I forgot; but still, caution is always best. About this information. What do you wish to know?”
“Why, everything, man; everything! How did you escape? What is—he—doing at this place; have you news of her? That first, and above all!”
“That I cannot give, for I have it not. I think he knows somewhat, and if that is so he himself will tell you. But I have heard nothing—nothing! For the rest, I crawled further into the forest, and lay quiet there. I heard enough through the night to know somewhat at least that was befalling, but I kept still. What could I have done to aid? And later, I made my way to a place of safety; and thence, in due time, to Zostrov, where I joined my master. It is one of his estates, and he is banished there, for how long? Who can say? Till those about the Tzar alter their minds, or till he himself sees reason to go elsewhere! They dare do nothing more to him, openly, for he is a prince of the blood, when all is said, and the Tzar loves him; so does the Tzarina (God guard her), though indeed that counts for little! It is not much, this banishment,—to him at least. It might have been worse. And he is content, for the present. He finds much work ready to his hand. We get news, too; much more news than some imagine,—the censor among them. We heard of your deliverance almost as soon as it was accomplished, and, later, of your—what do you call it?”
“Acquittal?” I suggested.
“That would be the word; you were proved innocent.”
“Not exactly; there was not sufficient evidence of my guilt and so I was discharged,” I answered; and as I spoke I remembered that, even now, I was liable to be rearrested on that same charge, since I had not been tried and acquitted by a jury.
“We know, of course,” he continued, “that you did not murder that swine Selinski.”
“How do you know that?” I demanded.