“Drónushka,” she said, regarding as a sure friend this Drónushka who always used to bring a special kind of gingerbread from his visit to the fair at Vyázma every year and smilingly offer it to her, “Drónushka, now since our misfortune⁠ ⁠…” she began, but could not go on.

“We are all in God’s hands,” said he, with a sigh.

They were silent for a while.

“Drónushka, Alpátych has gone off somewhere and I have no one to turn to. Is it true, as they tell me, that I can’t even go away?”

“Why shouldn’t you go away, your excellency? You can go,” said Dron.

“I was told it would be dangerous because of the enemy. Dear friend, I can do nothing. I understand nothing. I have nobody! I want to go away tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

Dron paused. He looked askance at Princess Márya and said: “There are no horses; I told Yákov Alpátych so.”