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Prince Alexis clutched his whip with iron
fingers, and unconsciously took the attitude of a wild beast about
to spring from its ambush. Now the hard clatter of hoofs and the
rumbling, of wheels echoed from the archway, and the kibitka rolled
into the courtyard. It stopped near the foot of the grand
staircase. Boris, who sat upon the farther side, rose to
alight, in order to hand down his wife; but no sooner had he made
a movement than Prince Alexis, with lifted whip and face flashing
fire, rushed down the steps. Helena rose, threw back her veil, let
her mantle (which Boris had grasped, in his anxiety to restrain her
action,) fall behind her, and stepped upon the pavement.
Prince Alexis had already reached the last step, and but a few feet
separated them. He stopped as if struck by lightning,--his body
still retaining, in every limb, the impress of motion. The whip
was in his uplifted fist; one foot was on the pavement of the
court, and the other upon the edge of the last step; his head was
bent forward, his mouth open, and his eyes fastened upon the
Princess Helena's face.


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