“Can you tell me anything,” I said, “of the Boyar Vladimir Ramodanofsky?”
Von Gaden started and looked at me sharply.
“Verily,” he said, beneath his breath, “Homyak is right; the dead walk!”
CHAPTER III.
THE STORY OF CAIN.
After a moment’s thought the physician walked on, motioning to me to follow him.
“This is no place for private converse,” he said; “when we are in my house, I can answer you. It was of the Boyar Ramodanofsky I was about to speak, and your question startled me; but mayhap it was accidental. At any rate, follow me, and I will endeavor to satisfy your curiosity.”
I was content to follow, since I was assured of hearing something of the boyar and his beautiful charge. I did not doubt Von Gaden’s knowledge of them; his profession gained him universal admittance, and he had been a physician of the czar’s, which was an endorsement readily accepted by the nobility.
The streets outside the Kremlin were packed with people; the crowd within had dispersed, and Biélui-gorod was filled with the overflow. I noticed more than once that curious and, I fancied, suspicious glances were cast at the physician, as we walked rapidly along; but he was apparently unconscious of them, although his keen eye was ever so observant. Here and there were knots of soldiers talking eagerly together; and at one corner we witnessed a curious example of the smoldering ire of the Streltsi against their own commanders. An officer of the Pyzhof regiment was riding towards the Kremlin, evidently on an errand of importance. As he came abreast of us, a woman hissed him, and a cry rose suddenly, as if at a preconcerted signal,—
“Down with the officers! Down with oppression and extortion! Give us our pay!” And the stones flew like hail.
The officer, a young fellow, taken unawares, was evidently alarmed, and dashed off through the crowd without offering any remonstrance, his retreat bringing laughter and jeers from the mob. Von Gaden quickened his step, saying to me in a low tone:—