stars and flooded with light.

"To the left, Zakhare says. Why to the left?" thought he. "We were going
to the Mélukows'. But we are going where fate directs or as Heaven may
guide us. It is all very strange and most delightful, is it not?" he
said, turning to the others.

"Oh! look at his eyelashes and beard; they are quite white!" exclaimed
one of the sweet young men, with pencilled mustache and arched eyebrows.

"That I believe is Natacha?" said Nicolas. "And that little
Circassian--who is he? I do not know him, but I like his looks
uncommonly! Are you not frozen?" Their answer was a shout of laughter.

Dimmler was talking himself hoarse, and he must be saying very funny
things, for the party in his sleigh were in fits of laughing.

"Better and better," said Nicolas to himself; "now we are in an
enchanted forest--the black shadows lie across a flooring of diamonds
and mix with the sparkling of gems. That might be a fairy palace, out
there, built of large blocks of marble and jewelled tiles? Did I not
hear the howl of wild beasts in the distance? Supposing it were only
Mélukovka that I am coming to after all! On my word, it would be no less
miraculous to have reached port after steering so completely at random!"

It was, in fact, Mélukovka, for he could see the house servants coming
out on the balcony with lights, and then down to meet them, only too
glad of this unexpected diversion.

"Who is there?" a voice asked within.