“Unless you are very fond of gayety and society,” Jack said, “I don’t think it can matter much being sent away from St. Petersburg, when you have such a nice place here.”

“Oh, no,” the girl said.  “It would not matter at all, only, you see, when any one gets into disgrace there is no saying what may happen.  An enemy misrepresents some speech, some evil report gets to the ears of the Czar, and the next day papa might be on his way to Siberia,” she dropped her voice as she uttered the dreadful word, “and all his estates confiscated.”

“What?” said Jack indignantly, “without any trial, or anything?  I never heard such a shame.”

The girl nodded.

“It is dreadful,” she said, “and now, to make matters worse, that odious Count Smerkoff wants to marry Katinka.  She will be rich, as she will inherit large estates in Poland.  Of course, papa and mamma won’t consent, and Katinka hates him, but, you see, he has got lots of powerful relations at court.  If it hadn’t been for that, I hear that he would have been dismissed from the army long since; and, worst of all, he is governor here, and can send to headquarters any lying report he likes, and do papa dreadful harm.”

Jack did not understand anything like all that Olga said, but he gleaned enough to understand the drift of her conversation, and he and Dick chatted over the matter very seriously that night.

Both agreed that something ought to be done.  What that something was to be, neither could offer the remotest suggestion.  They were so happy in the family now, were so kindly treated by the countess and her daughters, that they felt their troubles to be their own, and they would have done anything which could benefit them.

“We must think it over, Jack,” Dick said, as he turned into bed.  “It’s awful to think of all these nice people being at the mercy of a brute like that.  The idea of his wanting to marry the pretty Katinka!  Why, he’s not good enough to black her boots.  I wish we had him in the midshipmen’s berth on board the ‘Falcon’; we would teach him a thing or two.”

The lads had not availed themselves of the offer of riding-horses, as they were neither of them accustomed to the exercise, and did not like the thought of looking ridiculous.  But they had eagerly accepted the offer to have some wolf-shooting.

One night, everything having been prepared, they took their seats in a sledge drawn by two of the fastest horses in the stables of the countess.  A whole battery of guns was placed in the seat with them.  The sledge was larger than that which they were accustomed to use, and held four, besides the driver.  Two woodmen—­experienced hunters—­took their places on the seat facing the midshipmen.  A portion of the carcase of a horse, which had broken its leg and been shot the previous day, was fastened behind the sledge.

A drive of an hour took them far into the heart of the forest, although the coachman drove much slower than usual, in order that the horses might be perfectly fresh when required.  Presently the woodmen told the driver that they had gone far enough, and the sledge was turned, the horses facing homeward.  The great lump of meat was then unfastened from behind the sledge, and a rope some forty yards long attached to it, the other end being fastened to the sledge.  The horses were next moved forward until the rope was tight.