a case on which I should like some day to write an article for the Medical Journal of St. Petersburg. She went mad from fear. . . ."
"From fear? How was such a thing possible?"
"She had a fright. She is of the house of Keystut. . . . Oh, there are no mésalliances in this house. We descend from the Gedymin. . . . Well, Professor, two or three days after her marriage, which took place in the castle where we are dining (I drink to your health . . .), the Count, the father of the present one, went out hunting. Our Lithuanian ladies are regular amazons, you know. The Countess accompanied him to the hunt. . . . She stayed behind, or got in advance of the huntsmen, . . . I do not know which, . . . when, all at once, the Count saw the Countess's little Cossack, a lad of twelve or fourteen, come up at full gallop.
"'Master!' he said, 'a bear has carried off the Countess.'
"'Where?' cried the Count.
"'Over there,' replied the boy-Cossack.
"All the hunt ran towards the spot he pointed out, but no Countess was to be seen. Her strangled horse lay on one side, and on the other her lambswool cloak. They searched and
