pace."
The boys were amused at the driver, who frequently cracked his whip, but never touched the horses, to whom, however, he was constantly talking, addressing them in encouraging tones, which, as Jack said, they seemed to understand just like Christians.
After an hour-and-a-half's drive, in which they must have traversed some eighteen miles, they returned to the chateau. The servant at the door relieved them of their warm cloaks and of the loose, fur-lined boots, with which they had also been furnished, and then, evidently in accordance with orders, conducted them upstairs to the room where the countess and two of her daughters were working, while the third was reading aloud. It was already getting dusk, and lighted lamps burned on the tables, and the room, heated by a great stove in the corner, felt pleasantly warm and comfortable.
CHAPTER XIII. A NOMINAL IMPRISONMENT
In the course of the evening the boys explained that they had said nothing to the commandant about their having picked up a little Russian, as they had thought that it was better to allow him to remain in ignorance of it, as they had had some idea of making their escape.
"Why, you foolish boys," Paulina said, "where would you escape to? However, perhaps it is as well that you said nothing about it, for he only sent you here because he thought it would annoy mamma; and if he had thought you had known any Russian, he might have lodged you somewhere else."
"We don't want to escape now, you know," Jack said in his broken Russian. "We are much more comfortable here than we should be in the cold before Sebastopol."
The next few days passed pleasantly; sometimes the countess was not present, and then the girls would devote themselves to improving the boys' Russian.
Sometimes two sledges would come to the door, and two of the girls accompanied the boys on their drive. On the fourth evening, Count Smerskoff called, and a cloud fell upon the atmosphere.
The countess received him ceremoniously, and maintained the conversation in frigid tones. The girls scarcely opened their lips, and the midshipmen sat apart, as silent as if they understood no word of what was passing.
"I am sorry, countess," the commandant said, "that I was obliged to quarter these two English boys upon you, but every house in the town is full of sick and wounded; and as they were given over to me as officers, though they look to me more like ship-boys, I could not put them in prison with the twenty or thirty soldiers whom we captured at the victory on the heights above Inkerman."
"It is my duty to receive them," the countess said very coldly, "and it therefore matters little whether it is pleasant or otherwise. Fortunately one of them speaks a few words of French, and my daughters can therefore communicate with them. So you have twenty or thirty English prisoners in the jail? Where are all the rest; for, of course, in such a great victory, we must have taken, some thousands of prisoners?"
The count glanced angrily at her.
"They have, no doubt, been sent to Odessa and other places," he said. "You do not doubt, countess, surely, that a great victory was gained by the soldiers of his Majesty?"
"Doubt," the countess said, in a tone of slight surprise. "Have I not read the official bulletins describing the victory? Only we poor women, of course, are altogether ignorant of war, and cannot understand how it is that, when they are always beaten, these enemies of the Czar are still in front of Sebastopol."
"It may be," said the count, "that the Archdukes are only waiting until all the reinforcements arrive to drive them into the sea, or capture them to the last man."
"No doubt it is that," said the countess blandly, "but from the number of sick and wounded who arrive here, to say nothing of those taken to Odessa and the other towns among which, as you say, the prisoners are distributed, it is to be wished that the reinforcements may soon be up, so as to bring the fighting to an end."
"The enemy are suffering much more than we are," the governor said, "and before the spring comes we may find that there are none left to conquer. If the soldiers of the Czar, accustomed to the climate as they are, feel the cold, although they have warm barracks to sleep in, what must be the case with the enemy on the bleak heights? I hear
that the English newspapers are full of accounts of the terrible sufferings of their troops. They are dying like sheep."
"Poor creatures!" the countess said gravely. "They are our fellow-beings, you know, Count Smerskoff, although they are our enemies, and one cannot but feel some pity for them."
"I feel no pity for the dogs," the count said fiercely. "How dare they set foot on the soil of Holy Russia?"
"Hating them as you do," the countess said, "it must be annoying for you indeed, count, to occupy even so exalted a position as that of governor of this town, instead of fighting against the English and French."
The count muttered something between his teeth, which was certainly not a blessing. Then turning to Katinka, he changed the subject by asking her if she would favor him with some music.