(Glory be to God!) came fervently from the bearded lips of those
hard, rough, obedient children. They tumbled headlong over each
other, in their efforts to drink first from the ladle, to clasp the
knees or kiss the hands of the restored Prince. And the dawn was
glimmering against the eastern stars, as they took the way to the
castle, making the ghostly fir-woods ring with shout and choric
song.

Nevertheless, Prince Alexis was no longer the same man; his giant
strength and furious appetite were broken. He was ever ready, as
formerly, for the chase and the drinking-bout; but his jovial mood
no longer grew into a crisis which only utter physical exhaustion
or the stupidity of drunkenness could overcome. Frequently,
while astride the cask, his shouts of laughter would suddenly
cease, the ladle would drop from his hand, and he would sit
motionless, staring into vacancy for five minutes at a time. Then
the serfs, too, became silent, and stood still, awaiting a change.
The gloomy mood passed away as suddenly. He would start, look
about him, and say, in a melancholy voice,--

"Have I frightened you, my children? It seems to me that I am
getting old. Ah, yes, we must all die, one day. But we need not
think about it, until the time comes. The Devil take me for
putting it into my head! Why, how now? can't you sing, children?"

Then he would strike up some ditty which they all knew: a hundred
voices joined in the strain, and the hills once more rang with
revelry.

Since the day when the Princess Martha was buried, the Prince had