"I wish his neck were there," said Adrian's comrade, grinding the earth with his strong heel. "But I would not kill him," he added, after a pause. "No. I would drag him in chains to the feet of the Czar, and let him kill him with his own hand."
"I think," said Ivan slowly and with deliberation,—"I think every Russian, from the Czar himself down to the lowest mujik, should swear a solemn oath not to sheathe the sword until we have taken such vengeance upon Napoleon and his Frenchmen as the world has never yet seen."
"So be it," said Michael, who came in while he was speaking. "I, a mujik, will be the first to swear.—Barrinka, what is the name of Napoleon's great city, where he has his palace and all his treasures? Suppose the Czar were to make a blaze of that some day! It may be. God is just!"
