"Ninotchka told me to kiss you, my little Sergey!"
"Kiss her for me!" said the condemned man.
"Good! The Chvostofs send their salutations. . . ."
"Who are they? Ah! yes. . . ."
The colonel interrupted him:
"Well, we must start. Rise, mother, it is necessary!"
The two men lifted the swooning woman.
"Bid him farewell!" ordered the colonel. "Give him your blessing!"
She did everything that she was told. But, while giving her son a short kiss and making on his person the sign of the cross, she shook her head and repeated distractedly:
"No, it is not that! No, it is not that!"
"Adieu, Sergey!" said the father. They shook hands, and exchanged a short, but earnest, kiss.
"You . . . " began Sergey.
"Well?" asked the father, spasmodically.
"No, not like that. No, no! What shall I say?" repeated the mother, shaking her head.
She had sat down again, and was tottering.
"You . . ." resumed Sergey. Suddenly his face took on a lamentable expression, and he grimaced like a child, tears filling his eyes. Through their sparkling facets he saw beside him the pale face of his father, who was weeping also.
"Father, you are a strong man!"
"What do you say? What do you say?" said the bewildered colonel. Suddenly, as if completely broken, he fell, with his head on his son's shoulder. And the two
