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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!"

"Your honor, I thought..."

"You thought!" shouted the prince, his words coming more and more

rapidly and indistinctly. "You thought!... Rascals!

Blackguards!... I'll teach you to think!" and lifting his stick

he swung it and would have hit Alpatych, the overseer, had not

the latter instinctively avoided the blow. "Thought...

Blackguards..." shouted the prince rapidly.