"Pardon me, dear child, for the silence I have kept since we left Paris, but I have determined that there ought to be no explanation between us until after I have seen your father. I have sent word to him to expect me at Elva, where I am going to seek him. In a couple of hours I shall be here again. Until then trust me. Soon, I hope, you will have ceased to be displeased with me, and will doubt no more either my gratitude or my affection."
Vera replied only with a look from her great limpid eyes raised to his. Pierre Olsdorf pressed both her hands in his, and sprung into the drosky, to which fresh horses had been harnessed.
The young girl followed him with her eyes until he disappeared from sight at the end of the great avenue; then she slowly mounted the stairs, and passing through the fencing-room, gained the chapel, where she knelt in devotion on the stone floor, murmuring:
"If my father rejects me, what shall I do? Oh, God! have pity on me!"
Vera was still in prayers as the lord of Pampeln reached Elva.
"Is my daughter ill, prince?" exclaimed Soublaieff, meeting his master at the outer fence of the farm.
"No; do not be uneasy, Alexei; Vera is well," replied Pierre Olsdorf, alighting; "but her presence was needed at the château. That is the only reason why she has not come with me. To-night, even, you can embrace her; and to-morrow, if you wish it, she shall come back to you. I have much to say to you."
Struck by the grave look on the prince's face, as well as by the sad tones of his voice, the farmer followed him without daring to question him anew.
In the large lower room of the farm-house, wherein on hunting days he was wont to assemble his friends, the master of Pampeln seated himself, and signed to Soublaieff to take a place opposite to him after closing the doors.
His heart filled with sad forebodings, the former serf obeyed.