Page 77 - the-idiot

then, prince, sit down here, no, nearer, come nearer the
light! I want to have a good look at you. So, now then, who
is this abbot?’
‘Abbot Pafnute,’ said our friend, seriously and with def-
erence.
‘Pafnute, yes. And who was he?’
Mrs. Epanchin put these questions hastily and brusquely,
and when the prince answered she nodded her head sagely
at each word he said.
‘The Abbot Pafnute lived in the fourteenth century,’ be-
gan the prince; ‘he was in charge of one of the monasteries
on the Volga, about where our present Kostroma govern-
ment lies. He went to Oreol and helped in the great matters
then going on in the religious world; he signed an edict
there, and I have seen a print of his signature; it struck me,
so I copied it. When the general asked me, in his study, to
write something for him, to show my handwriting, I wrote
‘The Abbot Pafnute signed this,’ in the exact handwriting of
the abbot. The general liked it very much, and that’s why he
recalled it just now. ‘
‘Aglaya, make a note of ‘Pafnute,’ or we shall forget him.
H’m! and where is this signature?’
‘I think it was left on the general’s table.’
‘Let it be sent for at once!’
‘Oh, I’ll write you a new one in half a minute,’ said the
prince, ‘if you like!’
‘Of course, mamma!’ said Alexandra. ‘But let’s have
lunch now, we are all hungry!’
‘Yes; come along, prince,’ said the mother, ‘are you very

The Idiot