The Governor rose. "I shall go myself at once," he said, "and examine the ground. If Mr. Vanston was really kidnapped there, and carried off helpless, there must be some sign of the way he was taken. Find Cravatz, and we find him—that is my notion." He laid a kindly hand upon Vronsky's shoulder. "Courage!" he said. "I leave you here with the ladies. You must not go back yet awhile to Savlinsky to eat your heart out. Wait here and rest until I bring you tidings."
"Yes, do," said Nadia, with all the ardent impetuosity of her nature, deeply moved by the sight of the man's grief. She came and stood by Vronsky, holding out her hand, and he let his craving eyes feed upon her beauty. He even dared to carry the sympathizing little hand to his lips. It was astonishing how much it comforted him.
"There never was such a boy," he said, "and all his life he has had such misfortune to contend against! His father was a good man; but I fear his mother was not exemplary. His half-brother never understood him. Then he got involved with these thrice-accursed tyrants who call themselves friends of liberty. And then he performed an heroic action—he saved from worse than death a young girl ... and with her he fell deep, deep in love. She promised to wait for him, and his heart is altogether hers. But I do not think she is faithful to him. He could marry now, and he longs to do so. He was to have his holiday and go to England and see what his chance was. But now, where is he? Once again his evil fate has been too strong for him."
Nadia withdrew her hand somewhat precipitately as he spoke, and went to the window. Miss Forester, watching her curiously, saw the red color mount to her very brow, and pitied her. Miss Forester thought Felix a most attractive young man, and marveled that Stepan Stepanovitch should allow him to be so freely in his daughter's company. It had seemed almost impossible that these two young creatures, thrown so exclusively into each other's society, should not fall in love with each other. Yet all along the Englishwoman had been doubtful whether Felix returned the feeling which she was positive he had aroused in Nadia. And this morning, when she had received the whispered confidences of Kathinka, the woman who had been summoned to wash and bind up Felix's wound, there had been a small thing said:
"And though he is a heretic, he wears around his neck a charm or a token. It is the half of a small silver coin."
Miss Forester's heart contracted with a sharp pang. She did not like the notion that her darling Nadia should be made unhappy.
Vronsky saw the withdrawal of Nadia, and rose to his feet. He followed her. "Alas!" he said, "men are selfish things! I am bewailing my loss, and cutting you to your sympathetic heart. I am lamenting, and I do not reflect that my Felix, who is to me wife and son and all I have to love in a desolate world, is nothing to others—nothing!" He covered his face. "Mademoiselle, I cannot control my feeling. Let me go out into the garden until I have got the better of this weakness." His tears were actually falling, and he shook with emotion. To the astonishment of her governess Nadia went up to him, and laid her hands upon his shoulders; it seemed as if she almost embraced him, as though he had been a father.
"Oh!" she cried, and her sweet voice—the Slav voice, with tears in it—quivered and vibrated with emotion. "Oh! is it possible that he should love a girl who—who cannot keep faith with him?"
Vronsky grew suddenly very still. His sobs ceased. As though he were touching some sacred thing, he put his arms about the girl's shoulders. A curious succession of feelings played over his fine, expressive face. It was as if he knew that she felt towards him as towards an elderly relative—him, who was quivering with the true passion of a man for her—and as if, in the moment of his hopeless craving and bitter sadness, some other idea, new and sweet, had dawned upon his unselfish soul.
"Dorogaya (dearest)," he faltered, hardly knowing that he used the word—"these English girls are not like ourselves. They are selfish and grasping. They think of their own feeling, the gratifying of their own desire. They do not think of what a man may suffer in their cruel hands." He had grown very white. The girl's face, trustful, uncomprehending, was very near his own lips. He turned, with a supreme effort of strength, and seated her in a chair near. "The comfort of knowing that I have your sympathy," he muttered, brokenly.