men and regulation provision not yet arrived. Gallop over at once and say I’ll have his head off if it’s not all here within the week. I have a letter too about the Prussian battle at Preussisch-Eylau from Petenka, he took part in it,—it’s true. If people don’t meddle who’ve no business to meddle, even a German beats Bonaparte. They say he’s running away in great disorder. Mind you gallop over to Kortchevo and do the business without delay!”

Prince Andrey sighed and broke open the other letter. It was a letter from Bilibin, two sheets covered with fine handwriting. He folded it up without reading it, and read through once more his father’s letter, ending with the words: “Mind you gallop over to Kortchevo and do the business without delay!”

“No, excuse me, I’m not going now till the child is better,” he thought, and going to the door he glanced into the nursery. Princess Marya was still standing at the crib, softly rocking the baby. “Oh, and what was the other unpleasant thing he writes about?” Prince Andrey thought of the contents of his father’s letter. “Yes. Our troops have gained a victory over Bonaparte precisely when I’m not in the army. Yes, yes, everything mocks at me…well and welcome too…” and he began reading the letter in French from Bilibin. He read, not understanding half of it, read simply to escape for one moment from thinking of what he had too long, too exclusively and too anxiously been dwelling upon.