them was disrespect towards their lord. Under the fear which his
barbarity inspired lurked a brute-like attachment, kept alive by
the recognition of this quality.

One day it was reported to him that Gregor, a merchant in the
bazaar at Kinesma, had cheated the wife of one of his serfs in the
purchase of a piece of cloth. Mounting his horse, he rode at once
to Gregor's booth, called for the cloth, and sent the entire piece
to the woman, in the merchant's name, as a confessed act of
reparation.

"Now, Gregor, my child," said he, as he turned his horse's head,
"have a care in future, and play me no more dishonest tricks. Do
you hear? I shall come and take your business in hand myself, if
the like happens again."

Not ten days passed before the like--or something fully as bad--
did happen. Gregor must have been a new comer in Kinesma, or he
would not have tried the experiment. In an hour from the time it
was announced, Prince Alexis appeared in the bazaar with a short
whip under his arm.

He dismounted at the booth with an ironical smile on his face,
which chilled the very marrow in the merchant's bones.

"Ah, Gregor, my child," he shouted, "you have already forgotten my
commands. Holy St. Nicholas, what a bad memory the boy has! Why,
he can't be trusted to do business: I must attend to the shop
myself. Out of the way! march!"