The lime-tree was alive with bees, the little Strelka brook bubbled
and fretted like a tea-kettle, and the sun rose gloriously; its rays
fell between the leaves of the lime-tree, and threw patches of light
on the strange face of one of the strangest and most incomprehensible
men who have ever lived.
Just now this handsome head, with its short hair, looked like that
of a wild boar; and when the writer licked his goose-quill like a
school-boy, he showed teeth and a tongue like those of a memorial
lion. Sometimes his features were convulsed with pain, as though he
were being tortured or crucified. But then he took a new sheet, and
began a new letter; his pen ran on; his mouth smiled till his eyes
disappeared, and the terrible man looked roguish. Still another
sheet, and a little note which was certainly directed to a lady; now
the face changed to that of a satyr, melted so to speak, into
harmonious lines, and finally exploded in a loud laugh which was
simply cynical.
His morning correspondence was now ended. The Czar had written fifty
letters. He left them unsealed. Kathia, his wife, would collect and
fasten them.
The giant stretched himself, rose with difficulty, and cast a glance
over the bay. With his spy-glass he saw Petersburg and his fleet,
the Fort of Kronstadt, which had been commenced, and finally
discovered the trading-vessel.
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