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"I shall probably die before you. So remember, these are my

memoirs; hand them to the Emperor after my death. Now here is a

Lombard bond and a letter; it is a premium for the man who writes

a history of Suvorov's wars. Send it to the Academy. Here are

some jottings for you to read when I am gone. You will find them

useful."

Andrew did not tell his father that he would no doubt live a long

time yet. He felt that he must not say it.

"I will do it all, Father," he said.

"Well, now, good-by!" He gave his son his hand to kiss, and

embraced him. "Remember this, Prince Andrew, if they kill you it

will hurt me, your old father..." he paused unexpectedly, and

then in a querulous voice suddenly shrieked: "but if I hear that

you have not behaved like a son of Nicholas Bolkonski, I shall be

ashamed!"

"You need not have said that to me, Father," said the son with a

smile.

The old man was silent.