Perhaps all this might have happened if it had not been for cards and roulette and the perpetual desire of increasing their capital—­for the worthy couple fell into the hands of a talented company, whose agents robbed them at Frascati’s in Paris, and again in Hamburg and various health resorts, so that hardly a year had passed when Bodlevski one fine night woke up to the fact that they no longer possessed a ruble.  But they had passed a brilliant year, their arrival in the great cities had had its effect, and especially since Natasha had become a person of title; in the course of the year she succeeded in purchasing an Austrian barony at a very reasonable figure—­a barony which, of course, only existed on paper.

When all his money was gone, there was nothing left for Bodlevski but to enroll himself a member of the company which had so successfully accomplished the transfer of his funds to their own pockets.  Natasha’s beauty and Bodlevski’s brains were such strong arguments that the company willingly accepted them as new recruits.  The two paid dear for their knowledge, it is true, but their knowledge presently began to bear fruit in considerable abundance.  Day followed day, and year succeeded year, a long series of horribly anxious nights, violent feelings, mental perturbations, crafty and subtle schemes, a complete cycle of rascalities, an entire science of covering up tracks, and the perpetual shadow of justice, prison, and perhaps the scaffold.  Bodlevski, with his obstinate, persistent, and concentrated character, reached the highest skill in card-sharping and the allied wiles.  All games of “chance” were for him games of skill.  At thirty he looked at least ten years older.  The life he led, with its ceaseless effort, endless mental work, perpetual anxiety, had made of him a fanatical worshiper at the shrine of trickery.  He dried up visibly in body and grew old in mind, mastering all the difficult arts of his profession, and only gained confidence and serenity when he had reached the highest possible skill in every branch of his “work.”  From that moment he took a new lease of life; he grew younger, he became gay and self-confident, his health even visibly improved, and he assumed the air and manner of a perfect gentleman.

As for Natasha, her life and efforts in concert with Bodlevski by no means had the same wearing effect on her as on him.  Her proud, decided nature received all these impressions quite differently.  She continued to blossom out, to grow handsomer, to enjoy life, to take hearts captive.  All the events which aroused so keen a mental struggle in her companion she met with entire equanimity.  The reason was this:  When she made up her mind to anything, she always decided at once and with unusual completeness; a very short time given to keen and accurate consideration, a rapid weighing of the gains and losses of the matter in hand, and then she went forward coldly and unswervingly on her chosen path.  Her first aim in life had