arrived towards noon. He felt the patient's pulse, had some conversation with him in German, and declared in Russian that all he required was rest, and that in a couple of days he would be able to resume his journey. The Hussar handed him twenty-five roubles as his fee, and invited him to dinner. The doctor accepted; they ate with good appetites, drank a bottle of wine, and parted perfectly satisfied with each other.
Another day passed, and the Hussar was quite himself again. He was exceedingly cheerful, joking incessantly, now with Dounia, then with the station-master, whistling all sorts of tunes, talking to the travellers, copying their orders for horses into the post-book, and he contrived to ingratiate himself so much with the good-natured station-master, that he felt sorry to part with his amiable host when the third morning arrived. It was a Sunday. Dounia was preparing for Mass. The Hussar's carriage drove up. He took leave of the station-master, having rewarded him liberally for his board and hospitality; he also bid Dounia good-bye, and offered to drive her as far as the church, which was situated at the very extreme of the village. Dounia looked perplexed—"What art thou afraid of?" said her father: "his excellency is not a wolf, and will not eat thee; take a drive as far as the church." Dounia took her seat in the carriage next to the Hussar, the servant jumped into the rumble, the driver whistled, and the horses were off.
The poor station-master was not able to understand how he, of his own accord, should have allowed Dounia to drive off with the Hussar; how he could have been
