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Whether
he
was
in
a
bad
temper
because
Prince
Vasíli
was
coming
,
or
whether
his
being
in
a
bad
temper
made
him
specially
annoyed
at
Prince
Vasíli
's
visit
,
he
was
in
a
bad
temper
,
and
in
the
morning
Tíkhon
had
already
advised
the
architect
not
to
go
to
the
prince
with
his
report
.
"
Do
you
hear
how
he
's
walking
?
"
said
Tíkhon
,
drawing
the
architect
's
attention
to
the
sound
of
the
prince
's
footsteps
.
"
Stepping
flat
on
his
heels
--
we
know
what
that
means
...
"
However
,
at
nine
o'clock
the
prince
,
in
his
velvet
coat
with
a
sable
collar
and
cap
,
went
out
for
his
usual
walk
.
It
had
snowed
the
day
before
and
the
path
to
the
hothouse
,
along
which
the
prince
was
in
the
habit
of
walking
,
had
been
swept
:
the
marks
of
the
broom
were
still
visible
in
the
snow
and
a
shovel
had
been
left
sticking
in
one
of
the
soft
snowbanks
that
bordered
both
sides
of
the
path
.
The
prince
went
through
the
conservatories
,
the
serfs
'
quarters
,
and
the
outbuildings
,
frowning
and
silent
.
"
Can
a
sleigh
pass
?
"
he
asked
his
overseer
,
a
venerable
man
,
resembling
his
master
in
manners
and
looks
,
who
was
accompanying
him
back
to
the
house
.
"
The
snow
is
deep
.
I
am
having
the
avenue
swept
,
your
honor
.
"
The
prince
bowed
his
head
and
went
up
to
the
porch
.
"
God
be
thanked
,
"
thought
the
overseer
,
"
the
storm
has
blown
over
!
"
"
It
would
have
been
hard
to
drive
up
,
your
honor
,
"
he
added
.
"
I
heard
,
your
honor
,
that
a
minister
is
coming
to
visit
your
honor
.
"
The
prince
turned
round
to
the
overseer
and
fixed
his
eyes
on
him
,
frowning
.
"
What
?
A
minister
?
What
minister
?
Who
gave
orders
?
"
he
said
in
his
shrill
,
harsh
voice
.
"
The
road
is
not
swept
for
the
princess
my
daughter
,
but
for
a
minister
!
For
me
,
there
are
no
ministers
!
"
