At dinner, at which champagne was drunk to the health of the new chevalier of St. George, Shinshín told them the town news, of the illness of the old Georgian princess, of Métivier’s disappearance from Moscow, and of how some German fellow had been brought to Rostopchín and accused of being a French “spyer” (so Count Rostopchín had told the story), and how Rostopchín let him go and assured the people that he was “not a spire at all, but only an old German ruin.”

“People are being arrested⁠ ⁠…” said the count. “I’ve told the countess she should not speak French so much. It’s not the time for it now.”

“And have you heard?” Shinshín asked. “Prince Golítsyn has engaged a master to teach him Russian. It is becoming dangerous to speak French in the streets.”

“And how about you, Count Pyotr Kirílych? If they call up the militia, you too will have to mount a horse,” remarked the old count, addressing Pierre.