thought of him as no higher than that, seated back on his haunches
and smoking his pipe. Then, after she was married, she had suddenly
run across him at a turning in the bazaar at Moscow. He was just
as she had imagined him, and she had immediately bought him, carried
him home herself and placed him, with many precautions, for he was
of very delicate porcelain, in the vestibule of the palace. And in
leaving Moscow she had been careful not to leave him there. She
had carried him herself in a case and had placed him herself on the
lawn of the datcha des Iles, that he might continue to watch over
her happiness and over the life of her Feodor. And in order that
he should not be bored, eternally smoking his pipe all alone, she
had surrounded him with a group of little porcelain genii, after
the fashion of the Jardins des Iles. Lord! how that young Frenchman
had frightened her, rising suddenly like that, without warning, on
the lawn. She had believed for a moment that it was the
domovoi-doukh himself rising to stretch his legs. Happily he had
spoken at once and she had recognized his voice. And besides, her
domovoi surely would not speak French. Ah! Matrena Petrovna
breathed freely now. It seemed to her, this night, that there were
two little familiar genii watching over the house. And that was
worth more than all the police in the world, surely. How wily that
little fellow was to order all those men away. There was something
it was necessary to know; it was necessary therefore that nothing
should be in the way of learning it. As things were now, the
mystery could operate without suspicion or interference. Only one
man watched it, and he had not the air of watching. Certainly
Rouletabille had not the air of constantly watching anything. He
had the manner, out in the night, of an easy little man in porcelain,
neither more nor less, yet he could see everything - if anything
were there to see - and he could hear everything - if there were