His
accesses of blind rage seemed to be at an end. A powerful,
unaccustomed feeling of content subdued his strong nature, and left
its impress on his voice and features. He joked and sang with his
"children," but not with the wild recklessness of the days of
reisaks and indiscriminate floggings. Both his exactions and his
favors diminished in quantity. Week after week passed by, and
there was no sign of any return to his savage courses.
Nothing annoyed him so much as a reference to his former way of
life, in the presence of the Princess Helena. If her gentle,
questioning eyes happened to rest on him at such times, something
very like a blush rose into his face, and the babbler was silenced
with a terribly significant look. It was enough for her to say,
when he threatened an act of cruelty and injustice, "Father, is
that right?" He confusedly retracted his orders, rather than bear
the sorrow of her face.
The promise of another event added to his happiness: Helena would
soon become a mother. As the time drew near he stationed guards at
the distance of a verst around the castle, that no clattering
vehicles should pass, no dogs bark loudly, nor any other
disturbance occur which might agitate the Princess.
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