The cabman made no reply, but from a door to the right stepped a tall, uniformed officer, who said:
“Orders, your Highness, orders. The isvoshtchik is not to blame. May I beg of your Highness to accompany me inside?”
“Who the devil are you?” demanded the annoyed nobleman.
“I am one who is called upon to perform a disagreeable duty, which your Highness will make much easier by paying attention to my requests.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“I have not said so, Prince Ivan.”
“Then I demand that the gates be opened that I may return home, where more important business awaits me than talking to a stranger who refuses to reveal his identity.”
“I hope you will pardon me, Prince Lermontoff. I act, as the isvoshtchik has acted, under compulsion. My identity is not in question. I ask you for the second time to accompany me.”
“Then, for the second time I inquire, am I under arrest? If so, show me your warrant, and then I will go with you, merely protesting that whoever issued such a warrant has exceeded his authority.”
“I have seen nothing of a warrant, your Highness, and I think you are confusing your rights with those pertaining to individuals residing in certain countries you have recently visited.”