"I have trusted my instinct. A young man having no claim upon anybody
in the world has in an hour of trial involving his deepest political
convictions turned to an illustrious Russian--that's all."

The Prince had exclaimed hastily--

"You have done well."

In the carriage--it was a small brougham on sleigh runners--Razumov
broke the silence in a voice that trembled slightly.

"My gratitude surpasses the greatness of my presumption."

He gasped, feeling unexpectedly in the dark a momentary pressure on his
arm.

"You have done well," repeated the Prince.

When the carriage stopped the Prince murmured to Razumov, who had never
ventured a single question--

"The house of General T---."

In the middle of the snow-covered roadway blazed a great bonfire.
Some Cossacks, the bridles of their horses over the arm, were warming
themselves around. Two sentries stood at the door, several gendarmes
lounged under the great carriage gateway, and on the first-floor
landing two orderlies rose and stood at attention. Razumov walked at the
Prince's elbow.