took his hand, and drawing him down put her arm round his thin, scraggy neck.
“Father,” she said, “do not turn away from me, let us weep together.”
“Scoundrels! Blackguards!” shrieked the old man, turning his face away from her. “Destroying the army, destroying the men! And why? Go, go and tell Liza.”
The princess sank helplessly into an armchair beside her father and wept. She saw her brother now as he had been at the moment when he took leave of her and of Liza, his look tender yet proud. She saw him tender and amused as he was when he put on the little icon.
“Did he believe? Had he repented of his unbelief? Was he now there? There in the realms of eternal peace and blessedness?”
she thought.
“Father, tell me how it happened,” she asked