Anna was sent on with their things in case this
contingency occurred. And earth, water and sky seemed smiling them a
welcome.
Just before they started, Dmitry, after the gentlest tap, noiselessly
entered Paul's room. Paul was selecting some cigars from a box, and looked
up in surprise as the stately servant cautiously closed the door.
"Yes, Dmitry, what is it?" he said half impatiently.
Dmitry advanced, and now Paul saw that he carried something in his hand.
He bowed low with his usual courtly respect. Then he stammered a little as
he began to speak.
The substance of his sentence, Paul gathered, was that the Excellency
would not be inconveniencing himself too much, he hoped, if he would
consent to carry this pistol. A very good pistol, he assured him, which
would take but little room.
Paul's surprise deepened. Carry a pistol in peaceful Switzerland! It
seemed too absurd.
"What on earth for, my friend?" he said.
But Dmitry would give no decided answer, only that it was wiser, when away
from one's home and out with a lady, never to go unarmed. Real anxiety
peeped from his cautious grey eyes.
Did Paul know how to shoot? And would he be pardoned for asking the
Excellency such a question?--but in England, he heard, they dealt little
with revolvers--and this was a point to be assured of.
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