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 3 1924 013 481 860 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
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 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013481860 
 
IVAN DE BIEON 
 
IVAN DE BIRON 
 
 OR, THE RUSSIAN COURT IN THE MIDDLE 
 OF LAST CENTURY 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Author of "Friends in Councii,," etc. 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 
 1874. 
 
 \The Ttigkt qf Translation is Reserved.^ 
 
co^ The ^■ 
 
 Pr; ^ent White 
 
 ^ Li'^rary 
 
 PEINTED BT TAYLOE AND CO., 
 LIITLB QUEBTf STBEBT, LINCOLN'S INN CIBLDS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. Description of the State of Affairs at the Kus- 
 
 sian Court, a.d. 1740 3 
 
 II. Interview between Biron and Miinnich . . 12 
 
 III. The Eegent's Meditation after MUnnich's 
 
 Departure — Description of Biron's Plans, 
 Education, and Aims 19 
 
 IV. The Gypsies — The Regent in Disguise hears 
 
 his Fortune — Songs 23 
 
 V. Munnich's Interview with Manstein — Cha- 
 racter of the Grand Duchess 31 
 
 VI. Miinnioh's Interview with the Grand Duchess 36 
 
 VII. Banquet at the Regent's Palace .... 41 
 VIII. Departure of the Guests — The Regent's 
 
 Conversation with his Secretary Ivan . 45 
 IX. Eesult of the Conspiracy . . .53 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 I. Ivan, and the Princess Marie 65 
 
 II. The Duke of Courland in Exile . 77 
 
 III. Recall of Ivan from Siberia . . .79 
 
 IV. Ivan's Preparations for Departure ... 85 
 V. Nariskoff's Character and Conduct — Ivan 
 
 leaves Pelem 89 
 
 VI. Discovery of the Duke of Courland by his 
 
 FeUow-exiles 94 
 
 Vn. The Nightly Visitor to the Duke of Cour- 
 land ... 99 
 
 VIII. The Duke's Comforter 104 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAP. FACE 
 
 I. The Princess Elizabeth's Character and Posi- 
 tion — The Duchess of Brunswick made 
 Regent — Lestocq and the French Ambas- 
 sador La Chetardie — Their Conspiracy . 117 
 II. Scenes at the Preobraskenski Caf^ .... 124 
 
 III. Ivan's Condition on his Return to St. Peters- 
 
 burg — The Gypsies — Ivan meets Azra 131 
 
 IV. Azra's Love ... . ■ 138 
 V. Ivan's Projects . 143 
 
 VI. Mavra Schepelof and Her Mistress . . 146 
 VII. The Grand Duchess has a Private Interview 
 
 with the Princess Elizabeth . . 155 
 
 VIII. Progress of the Conspiracy . . . . ■ 159 
 rX. Lestocq's final Interview with the Princess 
 
 Ehzabeth 165 
 
 X. Outbreak of the Revolution — Ivan's Part in 
 
 it — ^Azra's Care for Ivan . 170 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 I. Revenge of the Princess Marie on the 
 House of Biron — Recall of Exiles from 
 
 Siberia 183 
 
 II. Azra's care of Ivan — He Writes to the Em- 
 press Elizabeth — the Result of that Letter 189 
 III. A Ball at the Winter Palace— The Meeting 
 between Ivan and the Princess Marie — 
 Azra Sings, and the Empress recounts the 
 Story of Azra and Ivan ... ... 200 
 
 rV. The Hopes and Projects of the Princess 
 Marie — Azra and Ivan — Azra's Interview 
 
 with the Princess . 212 
 
 V. Ivan's Ambition — Maintains His Intimacy 
 
 with Azra — who Learns to Write . 220 
 
 VI. The Princess Marie studies Music with Azra 
 — The Design of the Princess for the Good 
 
 of Ivan 229 
 
 VII. A Music-Lesson at the Serbatoflf Palace . 237 
 
 BOOK V. 
 I. A Prima Donna and her Lovers . . 251 
 
 IT. The Prima Donna's Debut in Paris . 260 
 
 III. Ivan Leaves Paris, and Returns to St. Peters- 
 burg — State of Affairs at St. Petersburg . 270 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 IV. Kalynch and his Theory 275 
 
 v. The Lapouschin Conspiracy — some of its Re- 
 sults ... 280 
 
 VI. Azra's Return to St. Petersburg — Ivan's Ar- 
 rest and Exile . . . 289 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 I. The Jovimey to Siberia — Ivan de Biron and 
 
 Naristoflf in the Forest of Pelem .... 297 
 II. The Arrival of the Serbatoflfs at Pelem — 
 
 Nariskoflf's Design 308 
 
 III. Nariskoff meets the Princess Marie . . 316 
 
 IV. Naiiskoff s subsequent Interview with Ivan 
 de Biron — Ivan's State of Mind — The 
 Princess Marie's Feelings ...... 326 
 
 V. Marshal Miinnich as an Exile — Invites De 
 
 Biron to His House 333 
 
 VI. The Conduct of the Principal Personages at 
 
 the Marshal's Party . 337 
 
 VII. Nariskoff's Fears — ^A Russian Ceremony — 
 
 Nariskoff's Fears Realized . . . 346 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 I. Azra Appears in a New Opera — The Em- 
 press and the Actress — £ix& asks for an 
 Audience — The Empress receives Her on 
 
 the Following Day 361 
 
 II. The Empress's Conjectures as to the Identity 
 
 of Azra— Azra's Audience 367 
 
 III. Ivan, when arrested, desires his servant Ka- 
 
 lynch to proceed at once to the Duke of 
 Courland and Inform Him of His Fate— 
 The Duke applies for Leave to Write to 
 Ivan — The Letter seen by the Empress 
 and the Governor — Kalynch allowed to be 
 the Bearer, and to be reinstated in Ivan's 
 Service 373 
 
 IV. The Rejoicings at St. Petersburg after a Vic- 
 
 tory — The Empress alone in Her Palace — 
 Her Remorse and Sorrow at the Bloodshed 
 occasioned by this Victory — The Duke of 
 Courland seeks an Audience of Her Ma- 
 jesty .378 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 V. . The Duke of Courland's Audience . 387 
 yl. The Empress recalls the Serbatoflfa and Ivan 
 de Biron from Exile — Their .Journey to St. 
 Petersburg — The continued Estrangement 
 of Marie and Ivan . . . . • . . «95 
 VII. The Empress sends for Ivan — The Inter- 
 view — Ivan finally reinstated in the Em- 
 press's Favour 403 
 
 Vni. The Empress's Plan for the "Welfare of Ivan 
 de Biron and the Princess Marie — The 
 Empress sends for Nariskoff ... . 411 
 IX. The Serbatoffs, Ivan, Azra, and Narisko^ are 
 ordered to Assemble in the State Room of 
 the Winter Palace — The Object of the Em- 
 press in thus assembling Them — Its fai- 
 lure 420 
 
 X. Ivan's Diary During His Exile — Extracts 
 
 therefrom 430 
 
 XI. The Friendship of Nariskoff and Azra . . 437 
 XII. The Princess Marie and Ivan attend a Re- 
 hearsal at the Opera — The Scenes, not 
 upon the Stage, that lead to a Happy Con- 
 clusion . . . 444 
 
 XIII. A Summing Up of the Fate and Fortunes of 
 
 the Principal Personages in the Narrative 463 
 
BOOK L 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DBSCEIPTION 01 THE STATE OF AFFAIRS AT THE 
 EUSSIAN COURT, A.D. 1740. 
 
 On the 18th of October, 1740, Mr. Finch, 
 the English Ambassador at St. Petersburg, sent 
 a despatch to Lord Harrington, then Secretary of 
 State for the Northern Department, in which 
 were the following words : — 
 
 " The Empress Anne died in the night of the 
 1 7th of October ; the end of her life having been 
 attended with such exquisite torments, that even 
 those who had the greatest interest in her 
 preservation, could only pray to God for her 
 being delivered from so much misery. The 
 Princesses Elizabeth and Anne took leave of her 
 two hours before her death } the Duke of Oour- 
 land was with her to her end." 
 
 The Princess Elizabeth was the daughter of 
 Peter the Great and Catharine the First. As, 
 however, Peter's wife and Catharine's husband 
 were alive at the time when the Princess Eliza- 
 beth was bom, her legitimate claims to the 
 
 b2 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 tirone were very small ; and, during the two 
 preceding reigns, she had been passed over in 
 the succession. 
 
 The Princess Anne was the granddaughter of 
 Peter's elder brother. She had recently been 
 married to Anthony Ulric, Grrand Duke of 
 Brunswick. They were a young couple, the 
 Grand Duke being twenty-four years, and 
 his Duchess twenty-two years, of age. A child 
 had been bom to them, named Ivan, who was 
 but two months old at the date of the death 
 of the Empress Anne, announced in the fore- 
 going extract of the despatch to the Court of 
 St. James's. 
 
 It may here be mentioned that Peter the 
 Great had arrogated to himself and his succes- 
 sors the privilege of naming the person in the 
 Imperial family who should succeed to the 
 throne, independently of the claims of heirship. 
 
 Mr. Finch, in subsequent passages of his de- 
 spatch, declares that " all is quiet at St. Peters- 
 burg ; and that everything looks prosperous for 
 the new regime." We may conclude, however, 
 with the historian Von Raumer, that this glow- 
 ing account of the state of things at the Eussian 
 Court was meant to be read by the Authorities. 
 There were other parts of the despatch written 
 in cypher, which might have told a different tale. 
 At any rate, a different tale was to be told at the 
 time when the despatch reached the Court of 
 St. James's. 
 
 It was on the very day that Mr. Finch's 
 letter was placed in the hands of Lord Harring- 
 ton, that in a room of the Summer Palace of 
 St. Petersburg, there sat a young man busily 
 engaged writing at a table covered with maps 
 and papers. This young man's name was Ivan 
 
THE RUSSIAN COURT, A.D. 1740. 5 
 
 de Birorij and he was the private Secretary of 
 John Ernest de Biron, Duke of Courland, the 
 newly appointed Regent of Russia. Raised 
 from a low condition, the son of a Master-hunts- 
 man, and the grandson of a groom, the Duke* 
 had been the favourite of the late Empress 
 Anne. For the last eight years of her reign, 
 he had been her principal Minister; and his 
 government had been distinguished by its 
 vigour, its sternness, and its 'implacable severity 
 during the whole of that period. No fewer than 
 ten thousand human beings were languishing in 
 exile in Siberia, victims to his suspicious temper 
 and cruel disposition. 
 
 The last will of the Empress Anne declared as 
 her successor Ivan the Third, an infant of two 
 months old, the son, as before stated, of Anthony 
 Ulric, Duke of Brunswick, and of Anne the 
 granddaughter of Peter the Great's elder brother. 
 
 In a; clause of the. same will, the Empress 
 Anne confided the Regency of Russia to the 
 Duke of Courland,' whose powers were to con- 
 tinue in force until Ivan the Third should be 
 seventeen years of age. 
 
 Such was the state of things when our story 
 commences. The Duke's private Secretary 
 before-mentioned, was a young man of frank 
 demeanour and of prepossessing appearance. 
 Any observer of physiognomy, however, could 
 
 * Throughout this narrative the Duke of Courland is 
 called -Biron. His family name was -Bir«n or ^ijferere. The 
 groom and the master-huntsman, his grandfather and his 
 father, had been contented with that mode of spelling the 
 family name ; but when the Duke rose to power, it was dis- 
 covered that the Birens were connections of the renowned 
 Dues de Biron in France; and, accordingly, the Regent 
 wrote his name Biron. 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 not but have noticed the expression of mingled 
 fear, mistrust, and weariness which seemed to 
 have taken possession, as it were, of the young 
 man's countenance. And if such an observer 
 had gone inibo the adjacent rooms, he could not 
 but have seen that, in a lesser degree, the same 
 expression sat upon the faces of the numerous 
 secretaries, under-secretaries, and clerks, who 
 formed the official establishment of the all- 
 powerful Duke-Eegent of Eussia. It was no 
 easy taak to execute the orders of such a man 
 as Biron, who demanded not only obedience and 
 fidelity, but the strictest acquiescence and ap- 
 proval. The slightest murmur or objection on 
 the part of any one of his retainers, might be 
 the first step on the road to Siberia for that ill- 
 advised individual. 
 
 The thoughts of the Private Secretary, occa- 
 sionally expressed in words, ran thus : — " More 
 arrests ; more orders for exile ; more work for 
 the executioner ; — and when will my turn come ? 
 They pay court to me, the slaves, because I am 
 related to him. They do not see that I am but 
 a hostage in his hands for the good behaviour of 
 his relations, whom he hates and fears as much 
 as he does the rest of the world. What if I 
 were to forge a passport for myself, and fly? 
 But no : there is the Princess Marie. I may yet 
 do something to render her exile less miserable. 
 Little she knows who would give his life to save 
 hers." 
 
 Who was the Princess Marie, and how was it 
 that Ivan de Biron was so much interested in 
 her that his care for her welfare should be a suffi- 
 cient inducement to stay him in the design which 
 he was, otherwise, almost inclined to adopt — to 
 quit the service of the Duke of Courland, and 
 
THE RUSSIAN COURT, A.D. 1740. 7 
 
 seek peace and safety in sopie other country than 
 Eussia ? 
 
 The Princess Marie Andreevna was the only 
 daughter of a certain Prince Serbatofif, who had 
 served officially in several departments of the 
 State. He had, however, the misfortune of 
 being nearly connected with the Dolgorouckis, a 
 family most hateful to the Duke of Courland. 
 On their downfall, Prince Serbatoff had been 
 involved in their ruin, and had been banished to 
 Siberia. His daughter, Marie, had previously 
 been presented at Court, and had been 
 one of the young ladies who, from her beauty 
 and her wit, had attracted the observation of all 
 the young men who had the privilege of attend- 
 ing the Court balls and festivities given by the 
 late Empress Anne. 
 
 Ivan de Biron, as the Secretary to the Duke of 
 Courland, attended his master, and was present 
 at these festivities. From his comparatively 
 humble rank, he had enjoyed no opportunities 
 of addressing, or even approaching his idol ; but 
 he had worshipped her from a distance j and to 
 him, there was no one to be compared to the 
 Princess Marie Andreevna Serbatoff. 
 
 To his romantic nature, it was peculiarly de- 
 lightful to think, that, obscure as he was, he 
 CQuld do her more service than any of her grand 
 admirers among the highest classes ; and he had 
 fconstituted himself, unknown to her, or to any 
 of her family, as their protector. It was, at the 
 present moment, the main object of his Hfe, 
 secretly to befriend them. Whatever comfort or 
 consolation could be provided on the journey of 
 the Serbatoffs to Siberia, had been provided by 
 the loving watchfulness of Ivan; and now he 
 could not forego the opportunity, which his near 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 relationship and oflB.cial proximity to the Duke of 
 Courland gave him, of mitigating the misery in 
 exile of this family, and pei;haps of restoring 
 them to their previous position in the State. 
 
 Ivan was still absorbed in thought when the 
 Regent suddenly entered the room — a stern- 
 looking, handsome, commanding man, about fifty- 
 four years of age. The most remarkable thing 
 to be noticed in the expression of his countenance 
 was, that craft seemed there to struggle with 
 passion, and to have been superinduced upon it. 
 A similar trait was noticeable in all that he said 
 and did. Sometimes he spoke with exceeding 
 suavity : sometimes the natural fierceness of his 
 soul broke out in tones and language of resistless 
 severity. His greeting of his Private Secretary 
 was on this occasion very suave and graciously 
 familiar. 
 
 " Ivan, dear child, (what a fortunate youth to 
 have the same name as his sovereign !) Ivan, my 
 dear, are the despatches for Denmark and Eng- 
 land ready — those announcing my Regency ? " 
 
 " Yes, your Highness, they are." 
 
 Then came a question in a very different 
 tone. " Are the orders to the Commandant of 
 Schliisselberg for the reception of those wretches 
 prepared ? " 
 
 " Yes, your Highness, they are here." 
 
 The Regent then sat down, and began to sign 
 the various letters and orders that were brought 
 to him by the Secretary. 
 
 Suddenly, a noise outside of joyful exclamation 
 was heard. The Regent started. " Go to the 
 window," he said, " see what fools are there. We 
 cannot be disturbed now. These hired plaudits 
 do not delight me. You should stop them, 
 Ivan." 
 
THE RUSSIAN COURT, A.D. 174?!. 9 
 
 The Secretary went to tlie window, and timidly 
 announced that the Field Marshal, Count Miin- 
 nich, was coming across the Gfrand Square ; and 
 that the soldiers of the guard, and some of the 
 citizens, were receiving him with shouts of ap- 
 plause. 
 
 " Ha ! it was for him, then, was it ? " said the 
 Regent, as he went on signing the papers. After 
 a muiute or two, he added, " What regiment is 
 on duty to day?" — a question which boded no 
 good to that regiment. Before, however, the 
 Secretary could answer the question, the Field 
 Marshal was announced, and had entered the 
 room. 
 
 Great as was then that man's renown, it is 
 necessary now to explain who he was, and how he 
 had gain,ed that renown. It would mightily have 
 astonished most men in that age, and no one 
 more than his somewhat vain and arrogant "\self, 
 that there should be- this necessity : for his fame 
 was European. \ 
 
 Marshal Miinnich was born in 1683, in the 
 Duchy of Oldenburg. His ancestors were noble ; 
 but their chief distinction was to be found in the 
 fields of science rather than of war. A genius 
 for mathematics and skill in engiaeering were 
 hereditary in the Miinnich family; and the 
 Field Marshal had a full share of these hereditary 
 talents. 
 
 At the early age of sixteen, he commenced his 
 career as a soldier. He served with credit under 
 Marlborough, and was present at the battle of 
 Ramilies. Afterwards he took service with 
 Prince Eugene, and accompanied that great com- 
 mander throughout his campaigns in Italy and 
 Flanders. 
 
 Miinnich then chose Russia as his field of 
 
10 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 action ; but, at first, found no favour with Peter 
 the Great. The refined manners of the young 
 German were repellent to the hard nature and 
 coarse habits of the Czar. 
 
 That shrewd employer, however, soon dis- 
 covered the singular capacity which Miinnich 
 had for hydraulic engineering ; and the Emperor 
 entrusted to him the conduct of his greatest 
 civil enterprise — the formation of the Canal of 
 Ladoga. On his deathbed, the Czar derived 
 some comfort from hearing of the progress of 
 the works at Ladoga ; and he must have been 
 satisfied with the engineer, for he exclaimed, 
 " J'espere que les travaux de Miinnich me 
 guervront " — a hope that was not to be ful- 
 fiUed. 
 
 Peter's widow, Catharine, pressed on the 
 works at Ladoga; but she did not live to see 
 them completed. That peaceful triumph was 
 reserved for the reign of the Empress Anne. 
 Under this Czarina, Miinnich resumed his career 
 as a soldier, and became the greatest general 
 that Russia possessed at that period. Indeed, 
 there were military men in other countries, who 
 did not hesitate to place him in the same rank 
 as Prince Eugene and Marlborough. 
 
 By this time Miinnich had gained the baton of 
 a Field Marshal, and had recently led the Eus- 
 sian armies to victory over both the Turks and 
 the Tartars. He had defeated the renowned 
 Seraskier, Vely Bashaw ; had passed the Pruth 
 under the fire of the enemy ; and had forced 
 the skilfully-designed and well-defended lines 
 of Perecop. 
 
 He was very handsome, had great dignity of 
 presence, and a commanding stature. During his 
 severest campaigns, he had shared the fatigues 
 
THE RUSSIAN COURT, A.D. 1740. n 
 
 and tlie privations of the common soldiers ; and 
 tad shown a hardihood that surpassed their 
 own. 
 
 Like many great commanders, Miinnich was 
 haunted and deluded by the idea that his genius 
 was as potent in civil as in military affairs. One 
 qualificatioUj held in those times to be very 
 needM for statesmanship, he certainly did pos- 
 sess — a wonderful power of dissimulation. But 
 he was too changeful a man to pursue, for any 
 lengthened period, great designs of policy ; and 
 his habits of military command sometimes pre- 
 vented judicious management on his part, either 
 of his colleagues, or of his subordinates iu civil 
 life. He was shrewd, brave^ witty, resolute, and 
 very fertile in resource. His chief failing was a 
 certain restless impatience; and this was dis- 
 cernible in his mobile countenance and in his 
 eager, demonstrative gestures. 
 
 As the Field Marshal entered the room, the 
 Private Secretary, Ivan de Biron, rose to leave 
 it. Before he could do so, the Duke said to 
 him in a marked manner, " I shall want to have 
 an answer to the question which I asked just 
 now. You may go." 
 
 Ivan bowed, and withdrew. 
 
BOOK I. 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 INTERVIEW BETWEEN BIEON AND MUNNICH. 
 
 The two great perBonages, who principally 
 ruled Russia at this moment, were thus face to 
 face. There was a third potentate, the Grand 
 .Chamberlain, Count Ostermann; but he ruled 
 men from his sick chamber which he rarely left. 
 On every great occasion, whenever there was a 
 crisis in the fortunes of the Russian Court or Em- 
 pire, Count Ostermann was suddenly seized with 
 a fresh accession of illness. This would increase 
 to absolute prostration, rendering him totally 
 unable to be present when dangerous questions 
 were before the Council of State, and when 
 compromising papers had to be signed by the 
 councillors. 
 
 The Regent received the Field Marshal with 
 the utmost graoiousness of manner. Had not this 
 devoted friend urged upon the Regent to take 
 the Regency as a solemn duty to his adopted 
 country, Russia; and had not Miinnich even 
 knelt or offered to do so, in order to persuade him ? 
 
BIRON AND MUNNICH. 13 
 
 The shrewd Ambassador, who at that time repre- 
 sented England at the Court of St. Petersburg, 
 had, in his despatch of the 21st of October, 
 given his Government a description of the scene, 
 in the course of which description, he hinted 
 that Biron^s reluctance to accept the Regency 
 was like the unwillingness of an ecclesiastic to 
 accept a bishopric, and it might be summed 
 up in the words nolo episcopari. On the other 
 hand, there is good reason for thinking that Biron 
 did not accept this great office without some re- 
 luctance, foreseeing! the possibility of much 
 danger to himself. Up to this time, however, 
 everything had gone most prosperously with the 
 new Regent. 
 
 The Field. Marshal responded to the gracious 
 manner of the Regent by an air of obsequious 
 deference and affection. There is no doubt, 
 though, that these two confederates, who had 
 practically made the will for the dying Empress 
 — a wiU which she had signed reluctantly, fully 
 appreciating the danger for her favourite — were 
 not such good friends as they had been a few 
 days before. They had not exactly quarrelled 
 over the spoil; but their interests were be- 
 ginning to diverge. The Regent, who had spies 
 everywhere, knew that the Field Marshal paid 
 frequent visits — visits not always mentioned to 
 him by his friend — to the Winter Palace, where 
 the father and mother of the infant Emperor 
 resided with the child. As was natural, then- 
 views and wishes were adverse to the Regent's j 
 and, doubtless, the mother of the infant Em- 
 peror, the Grand Duchess of Brunswick, thought 
 that the Regency should have been entrusted to 
 her. 
 
 The two statesmen had a long conference. 
 
14 / VAN DE BIRON. 
 
 At first, they talked of matters in wHcli they 
 were jointly concerned, such as the instructions 
 to be given to the Eegent's representatives at 
 foreign Courts, and the distribution of various 
 offices which were vacant, or were to be made 
 vacant. 
 
 The Regent, in his most subdued and gentle 
 manner, changed the topic of the conversation. 
 
 " And now, Duke," he said, " about your own 
 affairs ? " 
 
 " Your Highness," repKed Miinnich, " honours 
 me with a title to which I have no claim." 
 
 " Yes, I forgot," rejoined the Eegent ; " but 
 you will see why the word was in my mind. 
 And," he added smiling, "it has sometimes, I 
 think, been in yours. At least it ought to have 
 been ; for I do not know of any one who has 
 such claims to the Dukedom of the Ukraine as 
 yourself. I spoke to the late Empress more than 
 once about it. You are not a mere soldier, 
 however great in that capacity — forgive a civi- 
 lian for thinking that even a renowned general 
 may be a mere soldier — but you would govern 
 that recent conquest, so that it would be a 
 real accession to the Empire. I am sure of 
 that." 
 
 This appeal to the vanity of the Field Mar- 
 shal was not, for the moment, without some effect ; 
 but he thought to himself that if the Eegent had 
 but spoken to the late Empress favourably, both 
 the title and the appanage of the Ukraine would 
 long ago have been conceded to him. It was 
 true that they had been distract and expressed 
 objects of his ambition. 
 
 "This may be a subject," he rephed, "for 
 further consideration, and a mark of your 
 Highness's favour at some future period. At 
 present — " 
 
B IRON AND, MUNNICH. 15 
 
 The Eegent interrupted him, and said, " That 
 was exactly, Miinnioh, what I was coming to. 
 The Grand Duchess and her silly little husband 
 may object now ; but I have news to tell you of 
 a matter, which, if made good use of, may ensure 
 our object. There are disturbances on the south- 
 eastern frontier. The hOl tribes are in arms 
 again ; and these troubles have, in part, extended 
 to the Ukraine ; and will, no doubt, extend still 
 further. I know it would not be worth while, 
 even to assure the security of the Empire in that 
 direction, for such a man as you are, to take the 
 command in person of the operations there, 
 but—" 
 
 Here the Field Marshal interrupted. 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 "These disturbances, Miinnich, are of more 
 moment than may at first appear. Recollect 
 that the death of the late Empress was almost 
 sudden, and certaiuly was unexpected either by 
 the Court physicians or myself. It finds us 
 somewhat unprepared. Then the nomination of 
 that infant to the throne, not that it could 
 wisely have been otherwise, and the comparative 
 feebleness of the Regency, which, as you know, 
 my dear friend, you forced upon me, render any 
 such outbreaks no slight matter. 
 
 " It is only a thing to laugh at, a playing of 
 babies at conspiracy; but stiU, you know, one 
 could not let it go on — I mean that idiotcy of the 
 Grand Duke's. Some day, Munnioh, that little 
 sinner may find accomplices of somewhat higher 
 rank and more statecraft than the Court-coach- 
 man's bufibon, a young apprentice, and a waiter 
 at an inn — three of the wise heads which 
 his Highness took into his councils the other 
 day, when he was minded a little to rebel. 
 
i6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Greater men than these might join him. Bh ! 
 Miinnich ? " 
 
 Duriag this somewhat long address, the Field 
 Marshal had looked fixedly at the Regent, whose 
 eyes had fallen beneath that steadfast gaze. 
 There was afterwards silence for a minute or 
 two; and then the Field Marshal said slowly 
 but emphatically, 
 
 "I should be very reluctant to leave your 
 Highness at this juncture. What you have just 
 said confirms that feeling." 
 
 "There is no solid ground for fear as yet," 
 replied the Regent; "but there will be in the 
 fature. That insolent Scotchman, Keith, has 
 addressed his soldiery in terms that bode no 
 good to either of us. He will be true, forsooth, 
 to his infant Czar, but does not condescend to 
 recognize Our Regency, and will take no oath to 
 us. You doubtless hate the man as I do." 
 
 The Regent, as he said this, had quite lost his 
 mellifluous tones of speech, but he regained 
 them as he continued the conversation. 
 
 " For the present, I can take care of myself, 
 but I shall want all your aid, hereafter, to keep 
 these Generals of division ia order. Not to gain 
 fresh laurels — that would be too absurd — but to 
 efiect our object, I think it would be wise for you 
 to proceed at once to the frontier of the Ukraine. 
 In a few brief months you wUl have composed 
 these troubles, and have added fresh clainis to 
 honour and reward — fresh claims in a new reign, 
 mark you. That pompous little , potentate, the 
 Duke of Brunswick, would claim for himself the 
 title of Generalissimo ; but when you come back, 
 there would be no doubt as to who should have 
 supreme command over the armies and the fleets 
 of Russia. And, in the meanwhile, the patent 
 
BIRON AND MUNNICH. 17 
 
 for the Dukedom of the Ukraine could be made 
 out for you on the news of your first success 
 reaching us." 
 
 The Eegent, as before indicated, was not a 
 real proficient in the art of dissimulation — only a 
 forward pupU. Certain nervous movements in 
 his countenance betrayed his anxiety as to 
 whether his purpose was concealed, and whether 
 the restless Field Marshal would fall into the 
 snare thus, with little adroitness, prepared for 
 him. Count Miinnich, on the contrary, was 
 an accomplished dissembler. He appreciated 
 the full danger of his position, and thoroughly 
 understood the anxiety of the. Eegent to be well 
 rid of him for the present. He finally, however, 
 made no objection to the Eegent's proposal. 
 Further advices, he thought, might perhaps be 
 waited for; and some preparation must be 
 made ; but no doubt his good friend was right. 
 He did not deny that it had been his ambition, 
 at one time of his life, to be named as General- 
 issimo ; but now he thought the claims of the 
 father of the Emperor were pre-eminent. AH 
 that he wished for, was the security of the 
 Regency to his friend. 
 
 Before they parted, the Regent expressed his 
 hope that the Field Marshal saw the Imperial 
 family frequently and gave them good advice, 
 as he was sure he would do. For his own part, 
 the immense amount of pressing business which 
 had devolved upon him in the last few days, had 
 prevented his paying his respects as frequently 
 to the great people at the Winter Palace as he 
 could have wished. 
 
 " Moreover, I am not sure," he said, " that I 
 should have been very welcome ; for I have been 
 obliged to read that foolish Duke some severe 
 
 c 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 lessons, whicli I have chiefly done by writing to 
 the Grand Duchess." 
 
 The Field Marshal then took his leave, being 
 honoured by a fraternal embrace from the 
 Eegent, as was 'the custom in that country at that 
 time. 
 
 In an hour afterwards, Count Miinnich was 
 closeted with the Grand Duchess ; this time 
 having entered the Winter Palace in the dis- 
 guise of a major's uniform. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EEGINt's meditation AFTER MUNNICH's 
 
 DEPAETUEE DESCEIPTION OF BIEOn's PLANS, 
 
 EDUCATION, AND AIMS. 
 
 The Eegent remained for some time ab- 
 sorbed in thouglit. No one looking at him now, 
 could have imagined that this man had reached the 
 highest pinnacle of fortune to which any subject 
 could aspire. It is true that one of his schemes 
 had been to gain the succession to the Empire 
 for one of his own descendants by the inter- 
 marriage of his children with those of the Im- 
 perial family. The late Empress Anne, though 
 dotingly attached to the Duke, and very sub- 
 servient to him, for, as it is said, she had often 
 knelt at his feet to dissuade him from his cruel 
 prosecutions of real or supposed enemies, could 
 not brook the idea of the grandchildren or great- 
 grandchildren of a greom, inheriting the throne 
 of Eussia. In everything but that scheme, Biron 
 had succeeded. The potent influence of Russia 
 had given to this adventurer the Duchy of Oour- 
 
 c2 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 land; and lie had been, for some years, an 
 independent and Sovereign Prince. And now, 
 too, withia the last few days, he had become, 
 practically speaking, the Sovereign of Russia. 
 There are few instances of a man, with such 
 small claims for " eminence, at least as regards 
 birth or station, having risen to such a height of 
 fortune. Vast revenues he already possessed, 
 still greater revenues had been pressed upon him 
 to support his dignity as Eegent. He had en- 
 tirely verified, and acted up to a saying which 
 those who had been his friends at college remem- 
 bered to have often heard him make use of, — 
 namely, " II se faut pousser au monde," or, as it 
 was expressed to those who did not know !Prench, 
 " Man Tnuss fein siichen, sich in der Welt empor 
 zu hringen." But, as the person upon whose 
 authority this saying of the young Biron is given, 
 adds, " Fortune turns upon hinges " {Bas Qluck 
 ist angelrimd.) 
 
 More wretched individuals might have been 
 found in the Empire of Eussia than its Eegent, 
 the Duke of Courland, — the miserable families, 
 for instance, whom he had driven into exile in 
 Siberia; but, probably, at that moment, there 
 was not one human being in that huge Empire 
 whose soul was more shaken and disordered by 
 fears, doubts, suspicions, and apprehensions, than 
 that of the Sovereign Minister. 
 
 It is a fond fashion of the world, and it is a 
 comfort to most men's vanity, to make but that 
 those whom they call the favourites of fortune, 
 owe all to fortune, and little or nothing to merit. 
 This is rarely the case, and certainly was not so 
 with the Duke of Courland. On the accession of 
 the late Empress, he was merely her Chamberlain, 
 a personal favourite; but he distinctly foresaw, 
 
PLANS, EDUCATION, AND AIMS. 21 
 
 tliat tlie government of the Empire would fall 
 into his hands. And he prepared himself for it. 
 Abstaining for two years from aU direct inter- 
 ference with public affairs, he devoted himself to 
 those studies which should fit him for a states- 
 man. Though of mean extraction, he had been 
 educated at Konigsberg; and so careful a 
 thinker could not fail to apply some of the know- 
 ledge which he had acquired at that seat of 
 learning. He had always been a lover of books, 
 and had formed one of the greatest and most 
 valuable libraries collected by any private person 
 during that century. Moreover, he had favoured 
 learned men, and had sought companionship with 
 them. It is not improbable, that, at this moment 
 of his career, the fate of Sejanus was present to 
 his mind, and he was well aware that if he should 
 fall, it would afford the keenest delight to the 
 people whom, according to the measure of his 
 intelligence, he had faithfully served, whose- 
 material interests he had carefully maintained 
 and improved, but over whom he had tjrrannized 
 with inflexible severity, looking upon his ene- 
 mies as the enemies of the State. 
 
 After a long meditation, the Regent sprang 
 from his seat suddenly, saying to himself, " I will 
 see whether the piquets are stationed in the 
 streets at the points where I ordered them to be ; 
 and, perhaps, I .may hear what my good people 
 are pleased to say of their Eegent." 
 
 "Ivan." 
 
 At his master's call, the Secretary entered. 
 
 " What regiment is it ?" 
 
 The Secretary told him. 
 
 " A faithful set of fellows," said the Eegent, in 
 his most mellifluous tones. "We could trust 
 them to guard our State prisoners at Schliissel- 
 
22 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 berg, I think. Inform the Minister of War that 
 their services will be required at that fortress, 
 and that one of the regiments, now stationed 
 there, may return. 
 
 "Good fellows, excellent fellows, Ivan, but 
 noisy." 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE GYPSIES THE EEGENT IN DISSUISB HEARS HIS 
 
 POETXTNE SONGS. 
 
 Oi' aU the inhabitants of the great Em- 
 pire of Eussia, if indeed, we can call nomads inha- 
 bitants, the gypsies led at that time the happiest 
 life. No statesman, even when most suspicious, 
 connected them with any Court intrigue. They 
 wandered about from province to province, Hving 
 well upon the fears and hopes of the most credu- 
 lous persons of a most superstitious and credulous 
 community j and, with a vfew to gain some 
 groundwork for their wizard skill, the gypsies 
 took care to be well acquainted with the secret 
 history of all that was going on. 
 
 The celebrated Eussian poet Poushkin has given 
 a vivid description of gypsy life : — 
 
 " An unruly band of gypsies " (so the poem commences) 
 
 wander through Bessarabia, 
 They pass the night beneath coarse tents close to the river 
 
 side, 
 Such a night's lodging is as sweet as liberty itself, 
 The carts and Mbitkas have carpet-covered hoods ; 
 
24 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Between the wheels, bum fires, 
 
 Around which each family prepares its supper. 
 
 The horses are grazing in the field, 
 
 A tame hear lies free behind the carts, 
 
 All is life and freedom." 
 
 He afterwards describes their journey the next 
 morning. 
 
 " The asses hear the playful children in their panniers : 
 
 Husbands, hrotliers, wives, and maidens follow. 
 
 What screaming and riot ! 
 
 The songs of the gypsies, and the roaring of the bear im- 
 patiently rattling his chain ; 
 
 The variety of the coloured rags, the half nakedness of the 
 children. 
 
 The barking and howling of the dogs, 
 
 The noise of the bag-pipes, and the rattling of the carts. 
 
 All is poverty, wUdness, and confusion, 
 
 But full of movement and life. 
 
 "What a contrast to our dead effeminacy. 
 
 To that frivolous and idle life of ours — 
 
 A life monotonous as the songs of slaves ! "* 
 
 At this eventful period in Eussian history, an 
 unu'sual number of gypsies were in St. Peters- 
 burg. Any change of surrounding circumstances 
 is favourable to these people ; and it was known 
 to them, even before it was surmised by the great 
 personages at Court, that the Empress Anne's 
 disorder was a mortal one. Little else that had 
 since occurred, whether amongst the populace or 
 at Court, had escaped their attention and their 
 unbounded curiosity. 
 
 On the evening of that day, in the early part of 
 which the Eegent and the Field Marshal had held 
 a conference,fated to have so great an influence on 
 the fortunes of both of them, a troop of these 
 gypsies were singing their songs, and telling for- 
 
 * " The Russians at Home," Sutherland Edwards. 
 
THE GYPSIES. 25 
 
 tunes, in the " Italian Garden," (what a misno- 
 mer !) at the eastern end of the town. It was 
 becoming dusk, but there was still light enough 
 to discern the countenances of those who ap- 
 proached to have their fortunes told. 
 
 The Russians are a most musical people, 
 destiaed, as some think, to succeed to the iuheri- 
 tance of the Germans in the musical expression 
 both of the tenderest and the most sublime 
 ideas. 
 
 The gypsies had accommodated themselves to 
 the tastes of the people amongst whom they dwelt, 
 and had not failed, when in Russia, to cultivate 
 their musical powers to the utmost. 
 
 They now sang a song of a mournful character, 
 which was a great favourite with the Russians. 
 The following is a prose version; but the full 
 effect of the words can hardly be appreciated 
 except by one who has traversed the vast forests 
 of some northern climate, and is familiar with the 
 phenomenon which the song describes. 
 
 There is a sound in the forest. 
 
 It is not the weary waving of the "branches storm-swept ; 
 
 It is not the hurrying to and fro of the brown autumn 
 
 It is not the far-off howling of the wild beasts of the 
 
 forest ; 
 It is not the humming of the little things with many eyes 
 
 and feet. 
 It is not the music of the birds when they meet in their 
 
 groves, contending in song. 
 It is the greattimprisoned spirit of the wood, 
 He ever and ever moans, until he can mingle with the free 
 
 spirits of the upper air ; 
 Ever and ever. 
 Ever and ever he moans. 
 
 After the song had ended, and the chief of the 
 band of gypsies had announced that the decrees 
 
26 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 of fate would now be told to any one who had the 
 courage and the wisdom to listen to them, several 
 claimants stepped forward to enjoy this high 
 privilege of learning, not only their own fortunes, 
 but the fortune of the world in which they lived. 
 For in no lesser pride of prophetic knowledge had 
 the chief of the gypsies announced their high 
 claim to distinct intelligence of the unknown 
 future. ." 
 
 Among the claimants who thus came forward, 
 were several young men. It is probable that the 
 wide knowledge of human affairs which had been 
 promised, did not possess so much interest for 
 them as their own peculiar fortunes. The gypsy 
 chief, by nodding to one of them, signified 
 the choice he had made. This chosen one had 
 somewhat of a grave and serious countenance, 
 and there was a look of anxiety in it. Perhaps 
 this was the reason why he was chosen, for 
 nothing puzzles and perplexes a soothsayer 
 more than having a vacant and inexpressive 
 countenance to deal with. The young man in 
 question had come forward reluctantly, and had 
 even been pushed to the front by an elder man 
 who was his companion. 
 
 The gypsy chief, after he had made his choice 
 of the youth whose fortune was to be told, indi- 
 cated by an imperious gesture that person of 
 their tribe who was to tell it. This was a young 
 girl who came out of the circle with somewhat of 
 a shy manner, and advanced towards the young 
 man with an uncertain and hesitating step, as if 
 she loved not publicity of any kind. 
 
 As this maiden afterwards becomes a most 
 important person in this story, it may be well to 
 describe her appearance here. She was small in 
 stature, and delicate in feature. Her complexion 
 
THE GYPSIES. 27 
 
 resembled that of her swarthy companions^ with- 
 out being quite so dark as theirs ; but there was 
 a great and singular difference from them in the 
 colour of her hair and of her eyes. These were 
 not dark. The hair was of the very deepest 
 chestnut colour ; the eyes were of a colour for 
 which there is no name, at any rate in our lan- 
 guage. This is not to be wondered at ; ioT, in 
 traversing the streets of any great capital for 
 many hours in the course of any day, you will 
 probably not meet with more than two or three 
 persons whose eyes are of the colour sought to be 
 described. The nearest approach to description 
 which can be given of this colour is, that it is 
 what you would imagine would be presented by 
 a transparent grey with a dark colour behind 
 it. 
 
 Altogether, the girl was most beautiful ; and 
 the singularity of her appearance was not so 
 marked as to detract from that beauty. She had 
 an exquisitely formed hand and arm ; and this 
 beauty had been but slightly marred by the hard 
 toil which generally fell to the lot of the women 
 of her tribe. Her name was Azra. 
 
 As she laid her small, brown plump hand in 
 that of the young man \ and without looking at 
 it, felt for the lines in it which were to instruct 
 her so certainly about his future fortunes, he 
 could not but notice the remarkable beauty of 
 her features. 
 
 What she said to him was not heard by the 
 bystanders. It spoke of a fair young lady (the 
 young man smiled), not very fair ; indeed her 
 eyes were dark, and she was proud, and he who 
 loved her had many hopes and more fears. 
 There was a line in his hand which betokened 
 sorrow for this year ; but the line of victory was 
 
28 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 so deep and strong that it must overcome all 
 obstacles. There would be great rejoicings, and 
 he was one who would have much cause to rejoice, 
 on the next inundation but one of the Neva. 
 
 Her tale was told ; but before the young man 
 and the maiden parted, their eyes met, and there 
 was an arch look in the gypsy girl's countenance 
 and a gesture of her hands which were inter- 
 preted by the young man to mean, " All this I tell 
 you much as I tell the rest of the youths : it is 
 my trade and you may put what faith you like in 
 my sayings. Mayhap there is some truth in 
 them after all." 
 
 Thus Ivan de Biron construed the look, for he 
 it was who, having as it seemed but little to do, 
 had come out to have his fortune told. It was a 
 day when most of the official persons in Eussia 
 would have been very glad to have been in- 
 formed what was to happen to them, considering 
 the critical state of poHtical affairs. 
 
 There then stepped forward to have his fortune 
 told, a person of a very different semblance 
 from Ivan de Biron, though he had come with 
 him as a companion. He was a man of middle 
 height, with an expression of countenance half 
 anxious, half contemptuous, who mockingly de- 
 sired his fortune to be told. He was dressed in 
 sober fashion, and looked like the steward of a 
 great household, who had many servants to look 
 after, and much wealth to regulate. He appeared 
 to be endeavouring to look humble; but if he 
 aimed at doing so, his aim signally failed. 
 
 The other persons who wished to have their 
 fortunes told, gave way to him at once, and 
 whispered to one another " that they were sure 
 they should be knouted if they interfered with 
 him." 
 
THE GYPSIES. 29 
 
 Azra was about to take Ms hand, and to exer- 
 cise the ordinary craft of gypsies, when there 
 suddenly broke out a sort of chOral song, the 
 burden of which in the language of the gypsies 
 was — " It is he, it is he ; the ruler of horses and 
 the ruler of men." 
 
 The chief made a signal to Azra to withdraw ; 
 and an aged gypsy woman was substituted in 
 her stead. The seeming steward placed a 
 gold piece in the old woman's hand. She led 
 him aside while the ' gypsies continued their 
 song. She looked into his hand and then into 
 his eyes ; and, in a famihar manner, which he 
 shrank from, smoothed down his cheeks with her 
 coarse wrinkled hands. Then, lifting up the fore- 
 finger of her left hand, she said, " I see a palace, 
 and I see a hut; and the snow lies in heaps 
 round that hut, and the snowy mountains are in 
 the far distance ; and there are bars to the win- 
 dows of the hut ; and the reindeer gallops by at 
 night j and the wolves are hunting down their 
 prey ; and all is desolate and all is silent. The 
 ghosts dance by moonlight on the plains before 
 the hut ; and a man looks out and sees them ; 
 and there is no peace for him, for they are the 
 ghosts of those who were his enemies." 
 
 The steward smiled and said, '•' Ghosts, my 
 mother, are feeble creatures, and a brave man 
 mocks at them." And she replied, " There is 
 one thing he cannot mock at, and that is night. 
 The white-handed love the night ; but let him be- 
 ware of night." And then she shrieked out the 
 words " Night, night, night," and the chorus of 
 the gypsies took up the refrain. 
 
 The grave man withdrew from the crowd, and 
 made his way homewards, alone, for he had 
 given no sign to his companion to accompany 
 
30 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 him, and the young man respectfully abstained 
 from intruding his company upon the elder. 
 That home was the Summer Palace ; and though 
 he entered the building with a certain grave 
 humility, as became a steward of the house- 
 hold, yet all the sentinels seemed to wish to 
 present arms to him, and one of them did so, 
 but his salute was not acknowledged. The 
 seeming steward, when once he had entered the 
 palace, walked through its corridors as if they 
 belonged to him, and gaiaed his chamber. 
 When there, he had no rest, but kept constantly 
 repeating to himself the words "night, night, 
 night;" and he said to himself, "They are a 
 miserable people, these gypsies, but they know 
 the secrets of men ; and the hearts of fools are 
 wide open to them. In three days at furthest, 
 Miinnich shall leave St. Petersburg, and bestir 
 himself to compose the troubles at the fron- 
 tier." 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 MUNiriCH S INTERVIEW WITH MANSTEIN — CHAEACTER 
 OF THE GRAND DUCHESS. 
 
 It was early on the day after the Field 
 Marshal's interview with the Regent that he 
 sent for his Adjutant-General^ Manstein, whom 
 he greeted in a very warm and cordial manner. 
 
 "Brother and comrade in arms," he said, "a, 
 glorious future is before us. The tribes on the 
 south-eastern frontier are troublesome, and it will 
 be our duty to compel them to obedience. My 
 generals, who have so often led their divisions 
 into victory, will now crown their noble efforts 
 by bringing order and discipline into these rude 
 tribes. I myself am to accompany the army, and 
 thus to gain fresh laurels." 
 
 Manstein thought he knew his commander 
 well. He had been for many years his favourite, 
 and one of his most trusted officers. He knew 
 full well the versatility of the man he had to deal 
 with ; but the present mood of the Field Marshal 
 was one the like of which he had never known. 
 
32 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Miinnicli did not fail to recognize Manstein's 
 astonishment and even disgust, but continued in 
 the same strain, " What was the passing of the 
 Pruth, what was our forcing the lines of Perekop, 
 compared with the exploits that are now before 
 us ? It is true " (and here the Field Marshal 
 sneered bitterly) " that the names of these bar- 
 barian leaders are not quite so well known to the 
 world as that of the Seraskier Vely Bashaw; 
 but the world^s opinion of the greatness of ex- 
 ploits is not always a just one." 
 
 Here Manstein ventured to interpose, '' I grant 
 the need, my lord, of suppressing revolt where- 
 ever it may threaten ; but could not one of your 
 generals be entrusted with the enterprise. Must 
 the Field Marshal, the first soldier in Eussia,. be 
 there in person V 
 
 "Why, Manstein, so the great man wills it. 
 I hardly think, indeed, that if the Field Marshall 
 were not to be there in person, our crafty 
 Regent's mind would be so disturbed at these 
 possible dangers on the frontier.'^ 
 
 " But now, my lord, when all is unsettled, the 
 Empire new, St. Petersburg itself so dubious in 
 fidelity that there are piquets in the streets, and 
 the city is almost in a state of siege — surely, 
 your leaving the capital would be madiess." 
 
 " Of course it would — madness as regards the 
 safety ■ of the child-Emperor and the Grand 
 Duchess ; but not so for the Regent. My trusted 
 friend," said Miinnich suddenly changing his 
 tone, " this is the scheme of that man to remove 
 me, and thus to be unchecked in power. Think 
 you, for a moment, that I will yield to it ? " 
 
 " Ah ! now,'' said Manstein, " my commander 
 speaks like himself." 
 
 " I marvel at my past folly," replied the Field 
 
MUNNICH AND MANS TE IN. 33 
 
 Marshal " WIlo that has stood in the path of 
 Courland has long remained to thwart him ? 
 The way to Siberia is whitened by the bones of 
 his victims; but I will not be one of them. 
 
 " Do you think that I do not know the man ? 
 He has ever been my bitterest enemy ; he robbed 
 me of my house in former days ; ^he kept me ever 
 in the background at Court. When I asked for 
 some reward for my great services from the late 
 woman, was it his speech or hers ? or if hers, 
 surely prompted by him, that I should soon be 
 asking to be made Grand Duke of Muscovy ? " 
 
 Manstein could not help thinking that if his 
 chief had all along discerned the Duke of Oour- 
 land^s implacable enmity against him, it was 
 somewhat strange that he had lately taken so 
 active a jpart in gaining for the Duke the Eegency 
 of Russia. 
 
 The Field Marshal seemed to have divined his 
 thoughts, for he exclaimed with vehemence, 
 "Write me down as the greatest fool in this 
 Empire, worthy to have been summoned into 
 council by his Highness of Brunswick with the 
 coachman's buffoon, and Sergius the waiter ■; but 
 I did think that the villain could not have done 
 without me. We, too, Ostermann and I, have 
 our spies, Manstein, and have heard how he has 
 described us, even in the last three days, — ' the 
 sick fox, Ostermann; the featherheaded, vain 
 butcher, Miinnich.' Now, did I ever sacrifice 
 a single man of my army needlessly ? " 
 
 This accusation of being reckless of the lives of 
 his soldiery was one often made against this 
 great general, and it touched him nearly. He 
 continued : — 
 
 "We will spring upon him, Manstein. By 
 night we'll do it. See that the regiment on 
 
 ' D 
 
34 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 guard at the Summer Palace is one devoted to 
 us ; our own if possible. There is to be a grea,t 
 banquet to-morrow. Watch him well, and if 
 need be, we wiU strike the blow to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 "But the Grand Duchess, my lord? Unless 
 she joins us, it will be rebellion; and if all 
 accounts be true, she is a weak, vacillating 
 woman." 
 
 " Already, Manstein, she hates and fears him. 
 The shghts she has endured are such as have 
 great weight with a woman's mind. I think I 
 can persuade her : but if not, I will do the deed 
 myself. Will you be with me ? " 
 
 " Heart and hand, my lord, even to death." 
 The Field Marshal expressed his gratitude 
 warmly to Manstein, and then dismissed him, 
 saying that he himself must at once see the 
 Grand Duchess. He had seen her yesterday, 
 but only in the company of the Grand Duke, " a 
 worthy httle man," he added, " but a sieve which 
 lets all the corn run through, while it retains the 
 chaff most carefully. Tell him that you mean to 
 change the fashion of your beard, it is a secret he 
 will keep religiously : tell him that you mean to 
 cross the river by night, and the next hour the 
 camp followers of the army will know your 
 intention." 
 
 The character of the Princess, with whom the 
 Field Marshal was about to seek an interview, 
 and upon whose decision so much depended at 
 this moment, was one not difiScult to delineate. 
 Good-natured, indolent, averse from business, 
 there was but little noteworthy in the character, 
 except in one important respect. It is a great 
 mistake, often made by men in the estimate of 
 women, to suppose that they are incapable of 
 
CHARACTER OF GRAND DUCHESS. 35 
 
 ftiendsMp, at least of the friendsliip which men 
 have towards persons of their own sex. Now 
 the Grand Duchess of Brunswick had a female 
 friend named Juliana de Mengden, to whom 
 she was passionately attached. The friendship 
 of our own Queen Anne for Sarah Duchess of 
 Marlborough, and afterwards for Mrs. Masham, 
 was poor and feeble when compared with that of 
 the Duchess of Brunswick for her favourite. To 
 shut herself up for days together with her infant 
 child and with her beloved Juliana, was her chief 
 happiness in this life. Ulric Anthony, Duke of 
 Brunswick, a man of much worth and not without 
 military abUity (in civil affairs very imprudent), 
 had but Httle influence with his wife, and in vain 
 endeavoured to counteract the influence of the 
 favourite. It does not appear that Juliana de 
 Mengden busied herself with State affairs any more 
 than her mistress did ; but her casual likings, or 
 dislikings, had the greatest weight with the 
 Duchess; and, at this crisis, the result pro- 
 bably depended more upon Juliana de Meng- 
 den than upon any other person. It seems 
 probable from various circumstances that the 
 lively, brilliant Field Marshal was rather pleasing 
 to the favourite. Moreover, the families of 
 Miinnich and De Mengden were connected, the 
 Field Marshal's eldest son having married one 
 of Juliana's sisters. 
 
 d2 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 MtJUNICH's INTERVIEW WITH THE GEAND DUCHESS. 
 
 The Field Marshal proceeded to the Win- 
 ter Palacej and asked for an audience of the Grand 
 Duchess, which was at once accorded to him. 
 He found her there with her ladies, and with the 
 infant Emperor in her arms. " Is it not beau- 
 tiful ? " she exclaimed, pointing to the dress of 
 the child — "a gift from the maidens of St. 
 Petersburg to their young Czar ; and it is worthy 
 of him." 
 
 The Marshal said that the dress was beautiful ; 
 but there was a coldness in his tone which did 
 not escape the notice of the mother. " I do not 
 think, my lord, that you Hke children ; or per- 
 haps it is, that the great Field Marshal is not to 
 be touched by these vanities of dress, which you 
 know, my lord, please a poor mother. At some 
 future day, mayhap, you wiU be proud of him, 
 when the young soldier, with his great general 
 by his side, is reviewing those veterans whose 
 noble deeds and whose fidelity have secured him 
 the Empire." 
 
INTERVIEW WITH THE DUCHESS. 37 
 
 The Marshal stepped forward till he ap- 
 proached the Grand Duchess closely, and then 
 said in a low voicej " I greatly fear that I shall 
 never see that day, or accompany that young 
 soldier whom your • Highness thus pictures to 
 yourself as he should appear in future years. 
 But I would speak alone with your High- 
 ness." 
 
 Hereupon the Grand Duchess gave a sign to 
 the ladies, who, with the exception of Juliana de 
 Mengden, withdrew. 
 
 ''And now. Meld Marshal," exclaimed the 
 Duchess, "what was the meaning of your last 
 mysterious speech ? What evil fate threatens 
 our darling ?'" 
 
 " Every day that passes over his Imperial Ma- 
 jesty's head, brings him nearer to the time when 
 he will be in the way of one who has never failed 
 to remove any human being that stood in his 
 way. Why did he wish to have the custody of 
 the child — I mean of his Imperial Majesty ? " 
 
 " That I never will consent to, Miinnich." 
 
 " I trust not, madam. Tour Highness knows 
 that man's ambition, and how he has sought to 
 ally his base-born brood to the Imperial family, 
 Tou cannot have forgotten ' the slights that were 
 put upon you throughout the last reign. You 
 cannot but see that your own just claims to the 
 Eegency were set aside for this man." 
 
 "I love him not," exclaimed the Duchess, 
 " but I thought that the Field Marshal and the 
 Regent were sworn friends. To be sure, you 
 have not sung his praises so loudly during the 
 last few days." 
 
 " I grieve to find," Miinnich replied, ap^ 
 parently changing the subject, " that your High- 
 ness is so troubled about those hill tribes on the 
 
38 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 south-eastern frontier. For my own part, I did 
 not think they threatened the safety of the 
 Empire." 
 
 "What tribes? What frontier? What does 
 he mean, JuKana ? " 
 
 " We have heard nothing about hill tribes or 
 danger to the frontier/' exclaimed the favourite. 
 ^'So then it is without having taken your 
 Highness's pleasure, that the Eegent is about to 
 dismiss me — for I caU it a dismissal — ^me and my 
 best generals to defend this frontier, menaced 
 only in his imagination. Is it thus that he 
 begins his reign, veiled under the name of Re- 
 gency ? No word in Council, no orders from 
 your Highness ! " 
 
 " This is too audacious," said the Duchess. 
 " Indeed it is, madam." 
 
 " One by one, your Highness's faithful friends 
 will thus be taken from you." 
 
 " But you shall not go to the frontier. Marshal." 
 
 " If not, the next thing that your Highness 
 
 will hear of your faithful friend and servant, is, 
 
 that he and all who love him are on the way to 
 
 Siberia." 
 
 " But I shall speak to him myself." 
 "Speak to, him!" (The Marshal smiled.) 
 four Highness will but partake my fate, 
 sooner or later, with a certainty." 
 
 " What then is to be done ? Do you know, 
 Juliana ? " 
 
 The favourite, as thoroughly perplexed as her 
 mispress, said nothing; but looked inquiringly 
 at the Marshal. 
 
 "The fate he means for us, for aU of us, for 
 that dear child, for her (pointing to Juliana), for 
 aU who love your Highness — must be brought 
 upon himself. And there is no time to lose, not 
 a day, not an hour, scarcely a minute." 
 
INTERVIEW WITH THE DUCHESS. 39 
 
 " I dare nqt do it^ Miinnicli. How am I, a 
 feeble womarij not versed in State affairs, to take 
 upon myself this burden and this danger ? 
 Little as I know of this Empire — ^new to me — 
 I know that the Regent's creatures hold every 
 office, and that his will is law with them." 
 
 "They fear, but do not love him," Miinnich 
 replied. " Their idol, once thrown from its 
 pedestal, would be dragged through the mud, 
 to the joy of all beholders, — from the highest 
 prince to the lowest peasant in Russia. Think 
 of the thousands he has banished, and what a 
 wealth of hatred surrounds him ! But we waste 
 our time in talking. Let me act. On me let 
 the whole enterprise rest. The soldiery love me. 
 I only ask your Highnesses consent to the deed, 
 and done it shall be." 
 
 " I cannot sanction it now ; can I, Juliana ? 
 My husband, too — what will he say ? " 
 
 The Duchess, in an agony of doubt, rose and 
 walked with irresolute steps about the room. 
 The imperial infant, not accustomed to such 
 irregular movements, began to cry. " Leave me 
 now, my good Miinnich," the Duchess exclaimed. 
 " We will talk further of this matter." , 
 
 The Field Marshal saw that it was hopeless to 
 gain a decision from the indecisive woman at 
 this moment. He made his obeisance ; and, 
 giving a slight sign to the favourite, left the 
 room. She followed him, and for some minutes 
 they walked together up and dtown the western 
 corridor. There was an earnest, whispered con- 
 versation between them, which was interrupted 
 by the voice of the Grand Duchess calling for 
 Juliana. 
 
 Count Miinnich left the palace, and his 
 thoughts, if they had been uttered in words. 
 
40 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 would have been these : " She is the stronger of 
 the two, or at least not the weaker. Were this 
 Grand Duchess an Empress Catharine, or even 
 an Empress Anne, it might not he needed. But 
 what possible protection is there in her ? It is 
 doubly needful that the thing be done. I will 
 go to Manstein. Let me see. It was the 9th 
 Regiment of Dragoons amongst whom I slept 
 for many nights in the camp on the Pruth. I 
 think I know every man of them." 
 
BOOK I. 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 BANQUET AT THE EEGENT's PALACE. 
 
 The Eegent had issued invitations for a 
 great banquet to be held that day, at which, of 
 couraOj his good friend the Field Marshal was to 
 be an honoured guest. 
 
 The remaining hours of the day before the time 
 when Count Miinnich was to attend the banquet, 
 were very actively employed by him. Not once 
 did he look behind him, whether he went on foot 
 or in his droschky, though he well knew that 
 wherever he went, he was closely followed by the 
 Regent's spies. But, with a feeliug of despera- 
 tion upon him, he considered that the chief 
 danger now was, lest the swiftness of his prepara- 
 tions should not be adequate to the fixedness of 
 his purpose. " Besides," he said to himself, with 
 the shrewdness as regards minor matters that was 
 characteristic of the man, " they wiU not make 
 their reports until to-morrow morning j and then 
 it may be too late to make them." 
 
 The hour for the banquet arrived. The pre- 
 
42 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 parations for it were very magnificent. The one 
 tiing that delighted the Eegent^ that seemed to 
 comfort his gloomy soul, and even to dispel its 
 gloom_, was splendour of all kinds. During the 
 reign of the late Empress every extravagance in 
 dresSj decoration, and equipage, was carried to 
 its utmost height. The polite and graceful French, 
 great lovers of fitness in all things, were wont 
 to smile at this barbaric splendour, which was 
 often most incongruous. Even the ruder English 
 mocked at it, as we learn from the despatches of 
 our ambassador Mr. Finch, to our own Court. 
 But still it had a certain magnificence ; and the 
 various nationalities welded into the great 
 Russian Empire, with the corresponding variety 
 of costume, equipage, and manner, added an ap- 
 pearance of romance to the scene which was 
 wanting m the more uniform splendour of other 
 Courts. 
 
 The Field Marshal, surrounded by a brilliant 
 staff of officers, was received with especial honour 
 by the Regent, who, indeed, advanced to the 
 principal landing of the staircase to welcome his 
 most honoured guest. It seemed to all the 
 company as if these two great men, the pillars 
 of the State, as the courtiers did not omit to 
 call them, were knit together in the firmest 
 bonds of friendship. But murder, or some- 
 thing very like it, was in the heart of each of 
 them. 
 
 There is nothing so remarkable in man as his 
 power of concealing mental torture. What is 
 unsaid is ever nearest and greatest. The soul is 
 beset by some hideous remorse — consuming care 
 — warnings of disease — fear of death — rejected 
 love — vile pecuniary distress — or the anguish of 
 anticipated shame. The dark thing is not 
 
BANQ_ UET AT REGENT'S PALA CE. 43 
 
 merely in tlie back-ground : its presence never 
 withdrawn, its grasp never wholly relaxed, it 
 occupies the citadel of thoughts and feelings ; 
 and all that is beyond its sway, is but out- 
 lying and unconsidered precincts. Meanwhile 
 the man plays his part in society as other men 
 do : is polite, gay, affable ; and if he is really 
 a strong and able person, is as much like his 
 ordinary self, himself before this dark thing 
 had any hold upon him, as it is possible to be. 
 
 Now Count Miinnich had this power of fighting 
 against and keeping under, the dire thoughts 
 which occupied the fortress of his mind; but 
 the Eegent had not. 
 
 Great feasts are very much ahke ; and it needs 
 not to recount at large the richness of the enter- 
 tainment, and how, after dinner had ended, there 
 were songs and dances which might remind one 
 of the festivals of Roman Emperors. These 
 festivities, however, came to an end. The less 
 favoured guests retired, while the more favoured 
 remained, or, as it seems, returned to enjoy the 
 pleasure and the honour of a social evening 
 of conversation in the presence of the Re- 
 gent. 
 
 He, ever anxious, as the rest of the company 
 thought, to do honour to his much-loved guest, 
 the Field Marshal, led the conversation, in a 
 royal manner, to the chief exploits of Miinnich^s 
 military life. 
 
 The Count, delighted to have for a topic 
 matters which he could discuss without any 
 reference to present ■ poHtics, was eager and 
 earnest in the recital of his great adventures ; 
 nor did he forget to dwell upon the events of his 
 early days, especially of his imprisonment in 
 France, at Cambrai, where the excellent Fenelon 
 
44 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 was so good and kind to him and to his fel- 
 low-prisoners. This was an era in his life 
 to which the Field Marshal was very fond of 
 recurring. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Eegent, apparently exhausted 
 by the fatigues of the day, was reclining on a 
 couch with a httle table before him. Suddenly, 
 in the midst of one of the Field Marshal's most 
 interesting narratives, the Regent interrupted 
 him, saying, " By the way, Miinnich, did you ever 
 undertake any enterprise by night ? " 
 
 Languidly iip to this moment, had the Regent 
 listened to the Marshal's rather boastful narrative, 
 occasionally putting in the polite questions or 
 remarks which a wearied host thinks it necessary 
 to do, in order to show that he is not tired of his 
 guests and of their conversation. But this time 
 he half rose from his couch, leant on the table, 
 and looked fixedly iato the face of the Field 
 Marshal. 
 
 The Field Marshal was certain that his con- 
 spiracy was discovered. He felt as we mostly 
 feel in such great crises, all the powers of life 
 flying to the centre, and as if utterance would be 
 denied to us ; but he was one of the bravest men 
 that ever h'ved, and, as we have said, a perfect 
 master of dissimulation. 
 
 In an easy manner he replied, " In the course 
 of my time, I have been obliged to use every 
 hour of the twenty-four for some great purpose. 
 I do not particularly remember any signal ad- 
 venture undertaken by night. All hours are 
 ahke to me, when I have my work to do;" 
 and then he resumed his interesting narrative, 
 which told of a military exploit that had brought 
 him into direct conflict with the renowned 
 Turkish General, the Seraskier. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 DEPAETUEE OP THE GUESTS THE EEGENT'S CON- 
 
 VEESATION WITH HIS SECBETAET IVAN. 
 
 As the last of his guests departed, the 
 Regent gave a sigh of relief. Por some time he 
 remained alone, giving way to the deepest me- 
 lancholy. At length he summoned Ivan, his 
 private secretary. The young man was so im- 
 pressed with the attitude and bearing of the 
 Eegent, that he ventured to address him first, a 
 liberty he had seldom presumed to take. 
 
 " Is your Highness iU ? " 
 
 " Not in the body, Ivan. But all day long a 
 cloud of horror has surrounded me, and weighed 
 me down — I never knew the like — and some pre- 
 sentiment of evil in an embodied form has been 
 beside me at every moment. It sits by my side 
 where I sit now." 
 
 " Oh ! my Lord, 'tis but the weight of empire 
 that oppresses you — ^not a single moment's quiet 
 since the death of the Empress ! The hour is 
 late ; will you not retire to rest ? " 
 
46 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " I dread the night more than the day,'' re- 
 plied the Regent. " Last night my dreams were 
 horrible. The wolves that old hag talked about 
 hunted me down ; and each one bore a human 
 facfr — some face I had known, some one that 
 hated me. 'Tis an old fable, Ivan, that by some 
 magic power you might see into the hearts and 
 souls of other men. It is no fable. I had that 
 power to-day. I saw into the souls of those that 
 sat at meat with me ; and who, at each pause, 
 commenbed a new song of praise to their all- 
 powerful and all-wise Regent. But their hearts 
 were full of malice, Ivan; and I read their 
 minds as if they were an open book before 
 me. Oh ! how I wearied of the prate and flip- 
 pant boasting of that soldier. But the man is 
 harmless — for the present, harmless. There is 
 but little danger from so vain a man. Never- 
 theless, he goes to the frontier. I will not have 
 him near me." 
 
 Ivan's astonishment was great at this disclosure 
 of the Regent's purposes, for the Duke was not a 
 man given to confide in his private secretary. 
 He did not venture to make any remark that 
 would show that he had listened to his Highness's 
 last words, and merely said, 
 
 " WiU you not go to bed, my lord ? " 
 
 " No ; I will not. Come hither, Ivan ; why do 
 you stand at such a distance ? Are you, too, afraid 
 of me ? " 
 
 Ivan moved a few paces nearer to his formid- 
 able master. 
 
 " Something I have done for Russia," said the 
 Regent mournfully, " something to fulfil the 
 schemes of that half-crazy, half-inspired man 
 whom they call ' Peter the Great.' Come nearer, 
 still, Ivan. One would think I was some wild 
 
THE REGENT'S CONVERSATION. 47 
 
 beast, wliom all men fear would spring upon 
 them. I dislike you less than I do most men. 
 You shall for the nonce be the devil^s advocate. 
 Say' what you can against the soul of Biron. 
 What has he done, that all men should hate him ? 
 Speak out, boy ; it shall not harm you. Tell what 
 they say in the streets, and what they say in their 
 innermost chambers, when my spies are not 
 beside them." 
 
 An almost mortal terror seized upon poor Ivan. 
 A great danger on either side beset him. If he 
 should say what he thought, could he ever be 
 forgiven by the Eegent ? If he did not say it, 
 would so shrewd a man be satisfied with this 
 reluctance and this reticence ? He chose the 
 bolder course; and falteringly spoke thus : — 
 
 " All Eussia knows, your Highness, what you 
 have done for it. Roads, bridges, cities, owe 
 their existence to the Duke of Courland. This 
 splendid Court reflects your love of splendour 
 and your desire for civilization." 
 
 " I think, my good Ivan, that I have heard 
 these words once or twice before — even as lately 
 as from the slaves who sat at these tables and 
 secretly wished that my food was poison. Have 
 you nothing else to say ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have. What has been the cost of all 
 these benefits to Russia ? How many thousands, 
 not of common criminals, have died on their 
 journey to Siberia, or are dying in those hideous 
 wastes? They say, the people say, your 
 Highness, and I — I say so too, ' Was it needful 
 to purchase those benefits at this price ? ' " 
 
 " Defend me from the tender mercies of the 
 young," exclaimed the Eegent. "Had I but 
 slain, by strictly legal or miUtary slaughter, 
 these thousands, I should have been guiltless in 
 
48 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 your eyes, my tender-hearted Ivan. WTiat ! you 
 would have me scotch the serpents, and leave their 
 brood to wriggle round me — ^their poisonous fangs 
 undrawn ? No ! I have done wisely. Who thwarted 
 me, thwarted my aims, which ever, for the good of 
 this empire, were predominant ; and he who did 
 so was an enemy to the State, and not to me 
 alone. ' Not common criminals ! ' — as if they 
 were not infinitely worse. They have become use- 
 ful colonists instead of harmful conspirators. This 
 touches me not — say on." 
 
 " Well, then, your Highness has provoked the 
 envy of the nobles by your magnificence. They 
 point at your palaces ; they join with those of 
 Courland, and accuse you of private ambition." 
 
 "And think you, my good youth, that a 
 simple citizen who bore himself humbly, and 
 lived like some poor Boyard from the provinces, 
 would have been feared or respected by these 
 barbarians? Go, go. You are honest, and I 
 like you the better for what you have said ; but 
 you speak with your wisdom of three-and-twenty 
 years, and you know not the world in which we 
 live. 
 
 " But stay, what are the orders to the 
 guard ? " 
 
 " That they do not parley with any one who 
 seeks an entrance to the palace by night, but 
 that they cut him down forthwith." 
 
 " Are the sentinels doubled ? " 
 
 " They are, your Highness.'^ 
 
 "Not that I fear. It was a dream though 
 that Caesar had before they slaughtered him in 
 the Senate. And so they only told you, those 
 gypsies, of some girl you were to marry ; some 
 rustic girl, I think, you said, Ivan — the never- 
 ending trash with which -they tickle fools ; but 
 
THE REGENT'S CONVERSATION. 49 
 
 to me (for grey hairs — prematurely grey — de- 
 mand another story) they spoke of wolves, of 
 nightly wolves. Some danger they must ever 
 threaten, and it is safe to prophesy misfortune 
 to any of the sons of men. If I, too, were a 
 prophet or a gypsy, I should foretell misfortune 
 as th6 surest thing to happen. Marriage to you, 
 my boy, and the wolves to me, as being some- 
 what older and wiser. Oh ! they know how to 
 suit us all." (And here the Regent laughed 
 loudly, but not for long.) " They knew me 
 though — the wretches — they knew me. And 
 many things they know. Go now. I like you, 
 and I can trust you. We will to-morrow make 
 out the powers for the Field Marshal ; those for 
 him and his generals at the frontier. That 
 Mansteia has a look I do not like — a faithful 
 fellow too — one that would wade through blood 
 to do his master's bidding. Good night, Ivan ; 
 dream of the fair rustic beauty whom the gypsies 
 promised you, good night." 
 
 Ivan left the room with an uneasy feeling, that 
 he should never be forgiven for the audacious 
 truths he had uttered that night. But still he 
 felt a certain gladness that he had for once said 
 out fully and boldly what he had long thought, 
 and long desired to say. 
 
 The Eegent had not been many minutes 
 alone, when a servant entered the room, and 
 said, " Herr Litmann wishes to see your 
 Highness." 
 
 " At this hour, Fritz ? I have seen the man 
 once before to-day." 
 
 " I told him, my lord, that your Highness 
 could not see him ; but he said, that even if the 
 Eegent were in bed, he must see him ; and he 
 won't go away." 
 
 % 
 
50 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 "Admit him." 
 The servant left the room. 
 " When will this weary day close ? It has been 
 the longest day of my life, and the dreariest." 
 
 Herr Litmann was the great Jew banker of 
 the Court. His interests were closely allied with 
 those of the Regent; and in his hands vast 
 sums had been deposited by the Duke. Before 
 dinner Herr Litmann had been closeted with 
 the Regentj and had iaformed him that there 
 was a plot against his government, and even 
 against his Hfe. The Archbishop of Novogorod 
 had preceded Litmann earlier iu the day ; and 
 he, too, had come to give the Regent information 
 of the conspiracy. 
 
 Herr Litmann entered. He was evidently ia 
 a state of great agitation. Being a stout un- 
 wieldy man, and having hurried up the stairs, 
 he was almost breathless, and gasped out his first 
 sentences. 
 
 "It's aU true. There's not a moment to be 
 lost. I'm certaia of it. He was with the 
 Duchess again in the forenoon — disguised. 
 Why disguised ? You don't know that man. 
 That fool, too, her husband, has been talking 
 again, most insolently, of your Highness. The 
 people murmur in the streets." 
 
 "That is no new thing, my good Litmann. 
 This excellent people always have murmured in 
 the streets, ever since I have known them. Why 
 man, the Empress is not yet buried; and all the 
 thought, if thought it can be called, which the 
 Grand Duchess can command, is given to that 
 ceremonial, and to her place in it. The day 
 after to-morrow, Miinnich goes to the frontier. 
 It is all settled. I have provided for it. I take 
 at least as much care for my Hfe, Litmann, as you 
 for your roubles." 
 
THE REGENTS CONVERSATION. 51 
 
 7 
 
 " By the god of my fathers, your care will be 
 too late." 
 
 The Eegent drew himself up haughtily, and 
 said, " Herr Litmann, you are a shrewd man, 
 and money grows in your hands ; but I am not 
 aware that you have had much to do with the 
 government of human beings, unless it be your 
 own clerks. Allow me to do my work, and to 
 know how it should be done." 
 
 The astute Jew perceived that any further 
 effort on his part was hopeless. He said not 
 another word, but rushed from the room ab- 
 ruptly, without even a parting salutation. The 
 Duke was, in his eyes, a doomed man, whom it 
 was scarcely worth while to consider any more. 
 Herr Litmann spent the remainder of that night 
 in conceaUng what jewels and specie he thought 
 he could venture to hide away, while still leaving 
 large portions of his wealth unconcealed. He 
 was almost minded to seek safety in flight ; but, 
 as there was a considerable amount of his pro- 
 perty which he could not carry with him, the 
 chain between that property and him was too 
 strong to be broken at a moment's notice. 
 
 The Eegent was again left alone. "Jews, 
 gypsies, archbishops — all of them have their 
 special avenues of information. Rascality 
 reaches them by separate roads. What they 
 say, is true. I needed not their information; 
 I saw the danger myself; but it is a long way 
 from the frontier to St. Petersburg. Miinnich 
 may scheme there. That Scotchman, Keith, may 
 scheme elsewhere : there are other generals who 
 are mine. I am not a Cromwell to go to bed in 
 armour, change my room from night to night, 
 and try to deceive my own guards as to my 
 whereabouts. I may be a tyrant. I don't dis- 
 * e2 
 
52 JVAJS/ DE BIRON. 
 
 like that boy for telling me so ; but at least, I 
 am not a coward."* 
 
 The Regent remained for some time buried in 
 thought, and then retired to his chamber. 
 
 * It appears that the stories about Cromwell, much 
 exaggerated, were still rife on the Continent; and the 
 Begent's conduct, on this occasion, was contrasted with 
 that of Cromwell. 
 
BOOK I. 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 EESULT Of THE CONSPIEACT. 
 
 Ivan had spoken to his master of the late- 
 ness of the hour ; but it was not what we should 
 call late, seeing that it was but eleven o'clock 
 when the last of the Eegent's guests departed. 
 This, however, was a very late hour at a period 
 when great feasts were held at two o'clock in the 
 day. 
 
 The Field Marshal, well aware that the Re- 
 gent's spies were everywhere, and that some of 
 them were, perhaps, members of his own house- 
 hold, drove home to his palace, and went at 
 once to bed. But little sleep, as he afterwards 
 said, had he that night. Indeed there is as little 
 hope of sleep for the framers of a conspiracy, on 
 the eve of its outbreak, as for affianced brides the 
 night before their marriage. 
 
 At two o'clock in the morning Miinnich rose, 
 and sent for his aid-de-oamp. Colonel Manstein, 
 whom he had apprised that he should want his 
 services very early in the morning. It may be 
 
54 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 conjectured that Marshal Miinnich had not made 
 up his mind, before he went to bed, at what time 
 he should commence his enterprise, otherwise he 
 would have told Manstein that he should want 
 him iu the middle of the night. Probably, as 
 Miinnich lay tossing on his bed in anxious 
 thought, each moment's delay in the commence- 
 ment of that enterprise seemed doubly hazardous 
 to him. An additional reason for supposing 
 that he had not finally decided upon the exact 
 time of action, may be deduced from the fact 
 that he had made no arrangement for a further 
 interview with the Grand Duchess. Probably 
 that pregnant question asked by the Eegent, 
 and his manner of asking it, decided any 
 doubts that still remained in the Field Marshal's 
 mind. 
 
 The enterprise, indeed, if undertaken at this 
 moment, was certainly most hazardous. To 
 make his way by night into the Winter Palace, 
 where the Grand Duchess dwelt, was alone a 
 matter of great dif&culty, and he did not dare 
 to take the final step without her acquiescence, 
 however wrung from her. The state of in- 
 security at that time was such, that the palaces 
 of the grandees of Russia were most strictly 
 guarded; and both at the Winter Palace and 
 the Summer Palace, there were not ^only sen- 
 tinels at every entrance, but there were piquets, 
 consisting of forty men, posted in front of these 
 palaces. If but one of these guards were to do 
 his duty and to give the alarm, the attempt 
 would be frustrated ; and failure in such an 
 enterprise was certain death for the con- 
 spirators. " 
 
 Manstein came, and the Field Marshal drove 
 with him in a coach to the Winter Palace. 
 
RESULT OF THE CONSPIRACY. 55 
 
 Their foretliouglit in having arranged that the 
 regiment on duty should be one devoted to them, 
 and of which indeed the Field Marshal was 
 Colonel, was most serviceable. They were 
 allowed to pass, rather to the private disgust of 
 the severe disciplinarian, Manstein. The Field 
 Marshal knew his way about the palace, and he 
 made at once for the bed-room of the Grand 
 Duke and Duchess. In the ante-chamber the 
 favourite, Juliana de Mengden, was sleeping. 
 Miinnich awoke her; and, after some parley, 
 persuaded her to awake the royal pair, who 
 were sleeping in the next room. It was the 
 Grand Duchess alone who came out to see him. 
 We may reasonably conjecture, for it was never 
 known, that the Grand Duke did not partake the 
 views and wishes of his wife, and at any rate 
 wished to keep himself free from responsibility. 
 Strange to say, the irresolution of the Duchess 
 seemed to have vanished. Their conference was 
 but brief; and, at the end of it, the Marshal 
 ordered Manstein to summon all the officers who 
 were on guard at the Palace. 
 
 Her Highness made a short speech to the as- 
 sembled officers, recounting the injuries which 
 the Imperial family had suffered from the Re- 
 gent; declaring that it was impossible for her 
 any longer to endure his conduct ; and stating, 
 that she was determined to have him appre- 
 hended. To Marshal Miinnich she had com- 
 mitted the duty of seizing the person of the 
 Regent ; and she trusted that these officers would 
 implicitly obey theMarshal's orders. Theymade no 
 difficulty whatever as regards obeying the Grand 
 Duchess's commands. Whereupon she gave 
 them her hand to kiss, and they went down- 
 stairs with the Marshal, who got the guard 
 under arms. 
 
S6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The men were ordered to load their muskets. 
 An officerj with some of the rank and file, was 
 left on guard with the colours. The remainder 
 of the men went with Miinnich to the Summer 
 Palace. This body halted at a short distance 
 from the building. Then the Marshal sent 
 Manstein alone to the piquet which was 
 stationed in front of the Palace. Manstein told 
 them the whole story, and that the Field Mar- 
 shal had received the Grand Duchess's orders to 
 seize the Eegent. 
 
 In this vast Empire it is probable that the 
 Eegent had no real friend. The officers and 
 men of this piquet — ^his own guard — made no 
 more objection to the proposal than the Grand 
 Duchess's men had made. In short, they said 
 that they were ready to give their assistance, if 
 it was necessary, in seizing the Eegent. 
 
 Manstein returned to the Field Marshal with 
 these good tidings. He was then ordered to put 
 himself with an officer at the head of twenty 
 men, to enter the Palace, and capture the Ee- 
 gent ; and, in case he made any resistance, to 
 put him to death. 
 
 Manstein entered the Palace alone, leaving the 
 soldiers at the entrance. The sentinels allowed 
 him to pass in without any address on his part to 
 them, for they fancied that he had come, as a 
 friend to the Eegent, upon some matter of urgent 
 importance. But after he had entered the 
 palace, he was extremely embarrassed as to which 
 way to take. Soon he came upon some servants, 
 who were waiting in an ante-chamber j but, 
 being desirous of avoiding aU suspicion, he 
 walked on as if he knew the way to the Eegent's 
 room. After he had passed through this ante- 
 chamber, he went through two other rooms 
 
RESULT OF THE CONSPIRACY. 57 
 
 wHcli were vacant. Then lie came to some 
 folding-doors. These were locked^ but fortu- 
 nately for himj the servants had neglected to 
 fasten them by sliding the bolts at the top and 
 the bottom, so that he easily forced the doors 
 open. 
 
 Upon what minute circumstances do the 
 greatest events depend ! Porj if the Regent had 
 escaped, the fear of men would have furnished 
 him with a party to uphold his legal right ; and, 
 at the least, a great civil war might have been 
 the result of this conspiracy. 
 
 When Manstein had forced these doors, he 
 found that he had entered the chamber where 
 the Regent and his wife were lying. Biron's 
 sleep, after that day of fearful anxiety, was so 
 profound that not even the noise which Man- 
 stein had made in forcing open the doors had 
 awakened him. His wife, too, slept soundly. 
 Manstein undrew the curtain, and desired to speak 
 with the Regent. Thereupon, both husband and 
 wife started up in surprise, and began to clamour 
 for assistance, "judging rightly enough that 
 this intruder had not come to bring them any 
 good news."* The Regent sprang from the 
 bed. Manstein threw himself upon him, and 
 held him tightly until the guards came in. It 
 is evident that some of the soldiers must have 
 followed upon Manstein^s steps. The Regent, a 
 powerful man, dealt Manstein and the soldiers 
 some hard blows with his fist. They struck at 
 him with the butt-ends of their muskets. At 
 length, throwing him down on the floor, they 
 gagged him with a handkerchief, bound his 
 hands with an . officer's sash, took him to the 
 
 * Manstein's ' Memoirs of Eussia.' 
 
$8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 g^uard-room, where ttey covered him with a 
 soldier's cloak, and then conveyed him in the 
 Marshal's coach as a prisoner to the Winter 
 Palace. 
 
 While the soldiers were struggling with the 
 Regent, his Duchess had got out of bed and 
 had followed him into the street, when a soldier 
 took her in his arms, and asked Manstein 
 what he should do with her. He bade him 
 carry her back to her chamber ; but the soldier 
 not caring, it seems, to take this trouble, threw 
 her down on the ground in the midst of the snow, 
 and there left her. The captain of the guard, 
 finding her in this piteous condition, had some 
 clothes brought to her, and re-conducted her to 
 the apartment she had occupied. 
 
 The Regent's brother and other of his relatives 
 and adherents were also seized that night. 
 
 The Regent was not allowed shelter in the 
 Winter Palace. Miserably clad as he was, and 
 exposed to the snow which was then falling, he 
 was kept standing at the door, where he was 
 subjected to the insults of the people, for it was 
 now morning. At last, some hours afterwards, 
 he and his Duchess were put into an open 
 carriage to be conveyed to Schliisselberg, a 
 journey of about thirty miles. There was, more- 
 over, a fearful addition to his sufferings. Com- 
 panions were provided for him on that journey, 
 the very sight of whom must have caused anguish 
 to his soul. Hastily there were collected from 
 the prisons about thirty State prisoners, aU of 
 whom could reproach him for their imprisonment. 
 Nor did they fail to do so. Some of them must 
 have been with him in one of the large and lum- 
 bering coaches or waggons which were provided 
 
RESULT OF THE CONSPIRACY. 59 
 
 for the conveyance of prisoners. Andrew Ja- 
 cowitz. State Councillor and Cabinet Secretary, 
 lately condemned by tlie Eegent, was now one of 
 his companions in misery. This poor man hadbeen 
 so severely knouted that he was injured for life. 
 
 In this sorry fS,shion, and with such friends and 
 companions, did the delicately-nurtured Eegent 
 pursue his weary way to that fortress to which 
 his signature had sent so many other wretched 
 beings, and which he could not reach before mid- 
 night. 
 
 Ivan de Biron was also one of this mournful 
 cavalcade ; and, as the Eegent's private secretary, 
 had to listen to the reproaches and curses which 
 were heaped upon him, being naturally supposed 
 to be nearly as guilty as his master. 
 
 The feelings of the Grand Duchess during the 
 three or four hours that elapsed between the time 
 of her speech to the officers, and the return of 
 Miinnich with his prisoner, must have been very 
 grievous and anxious. The slightest noise in the 
 streets made her heart beat with fear. It might 
 announce, not the return of Miinnich, but the 
 approach of the revengeful Biron, who, after 
 the failure of such an enterprise, would no longer 
 hesitate to lay violent hands not only upon her 
 Imperial self, but upon her darling child and her 
 beloved favourite. She must have known full 
 weU, that by consenting to Miinnich's scheme, 
 she had risked the reign, if not the life, of a 
 child who might hereafter justly reproach his 
 mother for placing aU their fortunes in. such 
 hazard. 
 
 On the following morning, all the regiments 
 that were at St. Petersburg were ordered to 
 assemble around the palace. The Grand Duchess 
 then declared herself Eegent of the Empire 
 
6o IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 during the minority of the Emperor. She, at 
 the same time, put on the Collar of the Order 
 of St. Andrew ; and every one took a new oath of 
 fidelity, in which .the Grand Duchess was men- 
 tioned by name, as had not been done in that 
 imposed by the Regent. There were none that 
 did not make great demonstrations of joy at 
 seeing themselves delivered from the severity 
 of Biron. From that moment everything was 
 quiet. Even the piquets were taken away, which 
 the Duke of Courland had posted in the streets, 
 to prevent commotions during his regency. And 
 yet there were some shrewd persons, who, though 
 rejoicing at this great event, prognosticated that 
 it would not be the last of its kind ; and that those 
 who had been the most active in bringing ib 
 about, would be the first that would be the 
 victims of another revolution. 
 
 After an examination of the prisoners, which, 
 in the Duke of Courland's case, took place at the 
 fortress of Schliisselberg, he and his adherents- 
 were banished to Siberia. Among them was 
 General Bismarck, a brother-in-law of the 
 Regent. 
 
 The obsequies of the defanct Empress were- 
 then celebrated with great pomp. It is remark- 
 able that these occurrences should have taken 
 place in the short time that elapsed between the 
 death of the Empress and her funeral. So soon 
 was it that her prophecy of evil for her favourite, 
 on his assumption of the regency, was to be 
 fulfilled. 
 
 The conspiracy, of which the issue has just 
 been narrated, was of so remarkable a character 
 that it deserves to have a few comments made 
 upon it. 
 
 The course of conspiracies is wont to be 
 
RESULT OF THE CONSPIRACY. 6i 
 
 singularly uniform. The previous transactions 
 mostly occupy mucli time ; and day by day, or at 
 leastj week by week, some new person is in- 
 troduced into the plot. The aids and appliances 
 thought to be necessaryj tend to become far too 
 elaborate, each new appliance brings in a 
 fresh element for possible detection. Happily, 
 too, for mankind, their habitual faithlessness 
 serves them in this instance. Eventually there 
 is nearly sure to be some person, who, actuated 
 by fear, by the hope of favour, or by pity, 
 becomes the traitor, and either directly, or by 
 some pregnant hint, betrays the plot. So it 
 happens that a very small percentage of projects 
 of this kind succeeds. 
 
 Never was there a conspiracy so swiftly formed, 
 so swiftly matured, so swiftly betrayed, and so 
 swiftly executed, as this conspiracy against the 
 powerful Duke of Courland. 
 
 The state of Russian society is also indicated, 
 by the remarkable manner in which a knowledge 
 of the plot must have spread through the 
 capital. 
 
 In an incredibly short time, a conspiracy 
 known at first to the Field Marshal only and a 
 few important personages, is so widely bruited 
 about, that Christian prelates (for other great 
 dignitaries of the Church, besides the Archbishop 
 of Novogorod, had called upon the Regent and 
 had given him information), and also the Jew 
 banker Ijitmann, were, it appears, thoroughly 
 versed in what was going on. That it was to be 
 an undertaking by night, and that the Regent 
 had divined this, is almost certain, from the 
 alarming question which he put to the Field 
 Marshal in the presence of Mansteia and others 
 who have recorded this most interesting circum- 
 stance. 
 
62 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The Regent, throughout these, proceedings, 
 is little to be blamed. With his vast knowledge 
 of conspiracies, even if he believed in the 
 existence of this one, it was but in accordance 
 with his experience, that it should take time to 
 come to maturity ; and he never imagined that 
 any overt act would take place before the cere- 
 monies of the late Empress's funeral should have 
 been solemnized. The character of Count 
 Miinnich, imperfectly read by the Eegent, did 
 not allow him to believe that this gay, talkative, 
 restless, brilliant man, could act with the speed 
 and force of a dark-souled and determined con- 
 spirator. 
 
 The Grand Vizier, when the news was brought 
 to Constantinople of the downfall of the Regent, 
 made the following remark, " So then this 
 Russian Regent has met with a still harder fate 
 than has fallen to the lot of scarcely any of my 
 predecessors." It seems as if the Grand Vizier 
 abhorred exile more than death. 
 
 Ovid tells us, meaning to show forth the fuU 
 misery of exile, how his feet, sympathizing with 
 his soul, almost refused to quit the threshold. 
 
 Ter limen tetigi ; ter smn revooatus : et ipse, 
 Indulgens animo, pes miM tardus erat. 
 
 No lingering of this kind was allowed to the 
 unhappy Regent of Russia. He went to sleep, 
 a Sovereign Priace, and an all-powerful prime 
 minister : he awoke, to find himself at once, as 
 it may be said, a prisoner and an exile. 
 
BOOK IL 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 IVAN AND THE PEINCESS ITAEIE, 
 
 On the fall of the Eegent there were 
 doubtless many persons in St. Petersburg who, in 
 their riide way, felt and thought what one of the 
 greatest of Latin poets has expressed in a pas- 
 sage almost unrivalled for force and beauty. 
 , A certain Eufinus was the prime minister of 
 the Emperor Theodosius, and was as hateful to 
 the Roman people as the Dijke of Courland had 
 been to the Russian people — and far more justly 
 hateful. 
 
 The poet Claudian says that his dubious mind 
 had often been drawn this way and that, thinking 
 whether the gods cared for mankind, whether there 
 was any ruler of the world, or whether mortal 
 affairs flowed on with undirected course. When he 
 beheld the strictness and the beauty of the laws 
 of nature — the sea contained within its prescribed 
 bounds — the invariable recurrence of the seasons, 
 the succession of night to day — then he thought 
 that all things were governed by the counsels of 
 
66 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 God. On the otter hand^ when lie looked at 
 human affairs involved in such darkness, the 
 wicked flourishing, the pious tormented, then his 
 religion glided away from him. He thought the 
 world was ruled by chance, not by design j that 
 there were either no deities, or that they took no 
 heed of mortal men. At length, Eufinus fell. 
 His fate appeased this tumult of contending 
 thoughts in the poet's mind, and absolved the 
 gods. 
 
 AbsttJit hunc tandem Rufini poena tumultum, 
 
 Absolvitque Deos. 
 There must have been those in Russia who 
 felt that their hard thoughts of Providence were 
 now removed, now that the tyrant Biron had 
 been harled from power. The state of siege in 
 which the city had been kept was set aside j the 
 spies were dumbfounded for the moment; the 
 people breathed again. 
 
 The course of this narrative does not allow the 
 reader to follow in detail the evenbs which took 
 place in the capital ' on the deposition of the 
 Regent. The scene is at once changed to a 
 distant region. 
 
 The time was evening ; the place was a small 
 town in Siberia, named Pelem ; and the season of 
 the year was spring. The word town, however, 
 is a very dignified name to give to the miserable 
 wooden hovels which were clustered together- at 
 small distances from each other. 
 
 It must not be supposed that Siberia is a 
 country wholly devoid of great natural beauty 
 and of great natural fertility. Indeed, there are 
 parts of Siberia which rival, if not excel, the 
 grandest scenery in Switzerland. But at this 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 67 
 
 season of the yearj and in tHs region^ the land- 
 scape had a most depressing appearance. 
 
 Almost everywhere throughout the world that 
 season is odious, with its sunshine like the smile 
 of a false man, and its bright bitterness far more 
 intolerable than the downright gloom of honest 
 old November. But, in Siberia, the treacherous 
 time of spring presents its worst and most re- 
 pulsive aspect. 
 
 The snow had begun to melt, and tufts of 
 scanty herbage were here and there beginning to 
 make their appearance. In the far distance there 
 were snowy mountains still retaining aU their 
 beauty. These, however, were scarcely visible, for 
 a thick dark mist was creeping up, and partially 
 obscured them. In and around the town the 
 snow was trodden down ; and all nature had that 
 aspect of a transition state which in such regions 
 is most deplorable and most depressing. 
 
 Two buildings alone in this town stood out as 
 superior to the rest. One was the church, the 
 colour of which would have attracted the notice 
 of any person on first entering the town, as it 
 presented an appearance so different from the dim 
 tints which the surrounding wooden houses had 
 acquired. Outside it was whitewashed, and gau- 
 dily ornamented with various devices in blue and 
 red colouring. Its roof was of some metaUio sub- 
 stance,whiohgUtteredinmiddayj and which, even 
 now, shone meteor-like above the mist. It was 
 lighted up, and was prepared for evening service. 
 
 The other buUdiug, though constructed of wood 
 like the rest of the dwelUngs, was of two stories, 
 and was surrounded by palisades. No light was 
 visible in it, for the windows were so designed as 
 to look into a small courtyard at the rear of the 
 house. Two persons, already known in this story, 
 
 F 2 
 
68 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 mhabited that building. One of them was a young 
 man of frank and engaging manners^ who was on 
 friendly terms with all the other exiles ; the other 
 was a man of mature age, who, though he 
 had been for some months a resident in that 
 town, had never been seen in daylight, face 
 to face, by any of its inhabitants. Sometimes he 
 had been seen at midnight walking on the flat 
 roof of this house ; and, if it were a darker eyening 
 than usual when the cattle came back to the 
 town, he would then, closely muffled, make his 
 appearance on the roof. This seemed to be his 
 only pleasure, as it was to another remarkable 
 person, who, at a future period, occupied the 
 same house, of which circumstance there is a 
 tradition that has come down to the present 
 day. 
 
 The present occupants of the house were Ernest 
 de Biron, Duke of Courland, the late Regent of 
 Russia, and his secretary, Ivan de Biron. 
 
 At the northern end of the town, and almost 
 in its preciacts, was a large forest. At the time 
 described, a young girl, in peasant dress, had 
 brought her burthen of felled wood to the 
 extremity of the forest near the town. There 
 was no one in that small community to whom 
 the pleasant sights and sounds which belong to 
 a forest were more soothing and more acceptable 
 than to that maiden. 
 
 In all climes a forest is perhaps the most 
 beautiful, and at any rate the most gracious pro- 
 duct of nature, but in Siberia it has an especial 
 pre-eminence; and, very significantly, the in- 
 habitants of that dreary region have adopted the 
 tree as a sacred symbol. 
 
 B^ichof the senses, sound, sight, and smell, must 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 69 
 
 be delighted by the gratification it receives in a 
 Siberian forest. Variety of colours, infinite play of 
 light and shade, diversity of odours — not omitting 
 the rich, wholesome odour of the pine, and that 
 low murmuring noise which prevents solitude, yet 
 scarcely hinders silence — are all to be met with 
 there. 
 
 Then, too, there is something to be seen which 
 aptly reminds one of human life. In the forest 
 the individual tree, as in the crowded city the 
 individual human being, is often dwarfed, stunted, 
 and controlled in its existence by its immediate 
 neighbours; but yet it incUaes forward and 
 pushes forth its branches towards every inlet of 
 air and light that it can possibly attain to. This 
 gives that variety of form which is so delightful 
 to the lover of nature. There is the tree which, 
 from the near - oppression of its neighbour, be- 
 comes only a polished column with a growth of 
 wood and foliage at the head, while there is 
 another of a different species which throws out 
 its vigour in its lower branches, and is only poor 
 and barren at the suipmit. Then, again, there is 
 the absence of that result of contending elements, 
 the wind — a creature that greatly disturbs human 
 dignity and prevents meditation, except with the 
 healthiest and hardiest of human beings. 
 
 It was no wonder that the maiden should have 
 chosen the forest of Pelem as her favourite resort. 
 But there were causes, independently of the at- 
 tractions described above, which made that 
 forest most welcome to her. 
 
 This young girl had travelled with her father ; 
 had seen the old towns of Belgium, Prance, and 
 Italy ; and had imbibed that love for whatever 
 is ancient, which is often strongest in those whose 
 country affords the fewest relics of the past. Old 
 
70 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 trees were about the oldest things ttat could be 
 seen in such, a new country as Siberia ; and, 
 on that account alone, this wood was very dear 
 to the girl, and much frequented by her. 
 
 She sat down upon a fallen tree which lay nearly 
 across the pathway to the town. It adjoined one of 
 the finest trees in the forest ; and, at the point of 
 junction, parasitic plants and mosses had grown up 
 abundantly, forming a nook which made a pleasant 
 seat for two persons. Hence it was that this 
 fallen tree had not been used as firewood, though 
 it was so near the town, and had, indeed gained 
 a significant Russian name, which, being trans- 
 lated, means " For him and her." 
 
 She was feeling very glad that the hardest part 
 of her day's work was ended. She sat quietly for 
 some time, so quietly that the squirrels and other 
 small denizens of the wood came out from their 
 hidiug -places, and ran hither and thither, regard- 
 less of her presence. She seemed to be listening 
 intently, as for the approach of some one who 
 would make more noise amongst the brushwood 
 by his coming than the little creatures which 
 played around her. Then there was heard in the 
 distance the lowing of cattle returning from their 
 scanty pasturage to their stalls in the town. Each 
 one of the herd had a bell round its neck j and a 
 merry sound of janghng music was borne upon 
 the breeze. This sound seemed to delight the 
 girl, for she sprang up joyfully, and exclaimed, 
 " He will come now. I shall ever love the music of 
 these bells." And then again she sat down upon 
 the tree, and assumed a look of perfect composure 
 and indifference. 
 
 The musical approach of the cattle had been 
 heard a few minutes earlier in the town than in 
 the forest ; and no sooner was it heard, than Ivan 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 71 
 
 de Biron had gone out from tlie house before 
 described, and had walked, apparently without 
 any purpose, to the forest. He seemed though 
 to know whither to direct his steps, for he soon 
 approached the spot where the girl was sitting, 
 and sat down by her side. 
 
 They were a comely pair to look upon. The 
 maiden was beautiful with the beauty of radiant 
 health and strength. The attempt to describe 
 man or woman fully by words, is to ask more 
 from language than it can perform. Neverthe- 
 less the attempt must sometimes be made. 
 
 The face of this maiden was a most remarkable 
 one. In looking at her, you felt assured that the 
 family from which she sprung must have been of 
 Tartar origin ; but all the peculiarities of form 
 and feature belonging to that race, were 
 tempered into beauty. The eyes were somewhat 
 obliquely set in the face ; but the colour of them 
 was not that which belongs to the Tartar race, 
 but was of a soft blue. The eye-brows and eye- 
 lashes were dark, and the former had no curve of 
 beauty, but were perfectly straight. The nose 
 was slightly retrousse. The mouth was larger 
 and wider than is generally supposed to be con- 
 sistent with beauty. The general colour of the 
 countenance, upon which so much indication of 
 character depends, must originally have been pale, 
 but it was now bronzed, and even reddened by 
 constant exposure to the severe climate. The 
 hands were encased in fur gloves ; but, hardened 
 as they were by toH, no one who had seen them 
 would have supposed that they were the hands 
 of the young and beautiful Princess Marie 
 Andreevna Serbatoff, who, a winter or two ago, 
 had been held in St. Petersburg and Moscow, to 
 be one of the most beautiful young women of her 
 time. 
 
72 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The expression of lier countenance was very 
 variable. Sometimes it was tender and sub- 
 missive; at others it was capable of expressing 
 the fiercest indignation, and did express it. 
 
 The young man and the maiden did not sit 
 together, talking idly ; but they divided between 
 them the work that had to be done of chopping 
 up the larger pieces of fire-wood, which 
 were afterwards to be carried to her father's 
 hut. There was even a playful contention 
 between them as to who should take the harder 
 work. 
 
 " Ai! Marie," exclaimed the young man, " this 
 is not the proper work for you." 
 
 " I do not desire to be pitied, Ivan. You may 
 think in of me, but I do not know whether, if I 
 were to speak truly, I should not say that 
 this -was a pleasanter life than that which I led 
 with my French and German governesses. And 
 then one sleeps at nights — such sleep as I never 
 slept in any of my father's palaces. But oh ! my 
 father ! If he could but endure this life, I should 
 be content. His wretchedness wearies us, and 
 bears us to the ground." 
 
 " And so you do not miss aU the sweet flatteries 
 that must so often have been addressed to the 
 Princess Marie ? " 
 
 " Miss them ! I loathed them. Tou young 
 men all talk the same talk, Ivan ; but it is poor 
 stuff at the best. If the old wore masks, it is 
 they whom we should love, for they can say 
 something to us which approaches to sense. 
 Some few of them, at least, can talk, whereas 
 you boys can only prattle." 
 
 " Nay, Marie, but you cannot say this of me, 
 for, in the times of youi: splendour, I did not 
 dare to talk to you. I only looked from a dis- 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 73 
 
 tance at the beautiful young princess, unap- 
 proachable by a poor private secretary, though 
 he were — " 
 
 " Though he were ? Pray finish the sentence 
 Ivan, and disclose the mystery which surrounds 
 you. Who is the other who lives with you ? " 
 
 " An exile like the rest of us." 
 
 " Exiled by that detestable wretch, the Duke 
 ofCourland?" 
 
 ''Well, — ^yes — ^he was the cause of our exile 
 — an exile, for my part, which I cannot but bless, 
 as it has brought me near to thee, my dearest 
 Marie.-" 
 
 " Tou are somewhat familiar, sir ; I am no 
 one's ' dearest Marie,' but my father's. Are you 
 noble ! " 
 
 " And if I were not, would that make so much 
 difference, Marie? I should have thought the 
 life we lead might have effaced these artificial 
 differences of station." 
 
 " And so they should. We, almost serfs and 
 certain beggars, may well dispense with all the 
 mockery of titles. But I would you had been 
 noble, Ivan. It would make us more akin. 
 Poor youth ! and so you, too, are one of the 
 thousands of victims of this barbarous man, this 
 Biron. And in what conspiracy did this smooth 
 face partake? It must have been a deep one. 
 It must have taxed the vigilance of the great 
 Duke himself, and all his spies, to have un- 
 ravelled a plot devised in such a head as 
 tHs." 
 
 And here, with somewhat of fondness, par- 
 tially disguised by mockery, she placed her hand 
 upon the head of the young man, and looked 
 laughingly into his eyes. For his part, he was 
 half amused, half offended, by her ridicule. For, 
 
74 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 as amongst real criminals, transcendent crime has 
 always a certain dignity and respect attending 
 it, and great criminals are wont to despise petty 
 offenders, so, in Siberia, where past treasons 
 were the common talk, those were the great 
 men, the aristocrats in this miserable population, 
 whose conspiracies against the . favourite had 
 been of the largest character, and the most 
 nearly approaching to success. 
 
 At this moment there resounded through the 
 still air a hymn, which was being chanted in the 
 little church. It was a hymn well known both 
 to the youth and the maiden, which, indeed, they 
 had often sung side by side, and which spoke of 
 mercy and forgiveness, and of all men being 
 brethren. 
 
 They listened for some minutes to these sweet 
 sounds, and sweet they were, for no people in the 
 world, perhaps, not even the Italians, have so 
 passionate a love for music, and so much skill 
 in singing a certaru melancholy music of their 
 own, as the Eussian peasantry. And here, in 
 that small wooden church, were not merely 
 peasant voices to be heard, but the more refined 
 voices of many an exiled noble. 
 
 The hymn did not succeed in soothing the 
 fierce spirit of the maiden. On the. contrary, 
 the gracious words did but excite her indigna- 
 tion. "'Mercy! Forgiveness ! All men brethren ! ' 
 These priests, and those who think with them, 
 may chant these unreal mockeries ; but who can 
 forgive such injuries as I have suffered? My 
 little sister died upon the road; and the bar- 
 barians who drove us onward, would not even 
 stay to let us see her buried. My mother's 
 misery caused her bliudness; and my father, 
 once his sovereign's favourite, and as true a 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 75 
 
 councillor as ever breathed, is now a moody 
 man, half crazed by sorrow, wlio paces aU day 
 long our narrow room, muttering curses on his- 
 persecutor. And they shall be fulfilled ; these 
 curses. Would that I had the man before me 
 now ! with this hatchet I would hew him down 
 myself. Look not so scared, my gentle Ivan. 
 I hate him all the more for your sake. Tour 
 conspiracy must have been a fine plot indeed ! 
 Why one man can always kiU one man, if he is 
 only brave enough to put his own life in peril. 
 Had you so ventured — Oh, but I would not 
 have had you do so ! — ^that wretch, the Duke of 
 Courland, would not be living now." 
 
 During this outbreak of passion, Ivan had not 
 said a word to interrupt his much-loved Marie. 
 But there was a something in his look which 
 showed displeasure, almost disgust. Her ready 
 apprehension did not fail to see it. With the 
 swift impetuosity of her character, she changed 
 her mood ; looked beseechingly at him, and no 
 longer Uke the tigress, but like the mild and 
 gentle fawn. 
 
 " You do not love me now, Ivan ? I will be 
 gentle : yes, very gentle. But I may at least, 
 hate him, our common enemy, may I not ? — the 
 cause of all our miseries, that Duke of Cour- 
 land." 
 
 Ivan made no answer. The girl sought to 
 take his hand, which he gave somewhat reluc- 
 tantly, but wliich she fondly pressed. After a 
 few minutes' silence, she exclaimed, " I must go, 
 my father waits for me. I am his only comfort, 
 Ivan ; and I am ashamed that I waste with you 
 moments which should all be given to him." 
 
 So saying, she sprang up lightly; collected 
 together the wood which they had prepared for 
 
76 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 foewood; and -went Hastily towards her father's 
 log hut. The young man did not accompany 
 her; but, after remaining a short time in the 
 forest, returned to his home ; and his looks were 
 very downcast as he entered it. 
 
 We aU have different ambitions. The one 
 which occupied this young man's soul was of an 
 unusual kind. He had often thought to himself, 
 what he would most desire in the world, and had 
 come to the conclusion that it was — to be 
 supremely loved. That seemed to him the best 
 and greatest success in Hfe. This girl, he felt, 
 did love him greatly ; perhaps as much as it was 
 in her nature to love any one ; but was it of that 
 overpowering kind which would conquer a dis- 
 position so foreign and so unpleasing to his 
 own ? 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE DUKE OF COTIBLAND IN EXILE. 
 
 It was at a late hour on that same day, that 
 the door of that same house which Ivan had entered, 
 was again opened; and the Duke of Courland, 
 with a cloak wrapped round him, concealuig his 
 countenance, stepped out and walked away from 
 the town. The scene was now very beautiftd. 
 It was a bright night. The moon and the stars 
 shone with a radiance only to be seen in those 
 latitudes. The mist had disappeared, and the 
 peaks of the snowy mountains were now visible. 
 
 Miserable as were most of the elder inhabi- 
 tants of that town, this man's misery exceeded 
 theirs. He spoke; and his was no tame soli- 
 loquy, but was loudly uttered, as if he were 
 addressing a multitude. 
 
 "The basest of created creatures,'' he ex- 
 claimed, " are men ! Why, even their ghosts 
 adore prosperity. They did not haunt me when 
 I was all-powerful j but now they are always 
 with me, mocking and gibbering, and shoutiag 
 
78 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 murder." I fled from them in the houSBj and, 
 here they are now in multitudes. 
 
 " Why did you thwart me ? why cross my 
 path, I say ? It was death to cross it, and you 
 should have known that. Away with you, fools ! 
 The State demanded it ; and I, the Duke of 
 Courland, was the State. Do not crowd about 
 me so." 
 
 Such were the moody, almost mad utterances 
 of this unhappy man, who for hours would 
 address these imaginary followers with mingled 
 scorn and threats. 
 
 If, however, he did not fear these impalpable 
 spectres, conjured up by his remorse, he feared 
 the Uviag victims of his cruelty ; for, on the first 
 approach of day-light, he walked swiftly back to 
 that dwelliug which he had never suffered any 
 stranger to enter, and from which he never 
 emerged except at midnight. 
 
EOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 EICALL OF IVAN JEOM SIBEEIA. 
 
 Feom the conversation, which, has been 
 recounted, between the Princess Marie Andr^evna 
 Serbatoff and her lover, Ivan de Biron, a very- 
 wrong idea might be formed of that young 
 man's character and disposition. He was one 
 of those frank, kindly, good-natured persons 
 whose real strength of character is often con- 
 cealed by these amiable qualities of kiadness 
 and good-nature. He was quite unfitted to 
 cope with the Princess in an encounter of wit. 
 She affected to treat him as if he were a mere 
 boy, much younger than herself; but, in reality, 
 she had the greatest respect, as well as love for 
 him, and was even a Httle afraid of him. The 
 calmness of his nature often made her ashamed 
 of her o-w;n vehemence and versatility; though, 
 at the same time, it provoked her to a frequent 
 display of these very qualities. Vehemence 
 and versatility are mostly signs of weakness ; 
 and in this respect, the Priucess, though any- 
 
8o IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 thing but a weak person, sometimes presented 
 an unfavourable contrast to the firm and strong 
 character of her lover. 
 
 Her life had been supremely wretched until 
 Ivan had come amongst them. Her mother's 
 blindness, her father's irritable despondency, 
 the death of her sister, had all been causes 
 which created deep depression of spirits, suf- 
 ficient to subdue even this brilliant and lively 
 girl. She had jestingly pretended that her 
 present mode of life was endurable when com- 
 pared with her former Hfe, passed with severe 
 governesses and tutors at St. Petersburg or 
 Moscow. But, unto. Ivan came, she had 
 mourned, not only for her parents, but for her- 
 self, when she recalled to mind the brilliant 
 scenes upon which she had just begun to enter, 
 and where she had been welcomed with all the 
 courteous flattery that was sure to be addressed 
 to the beautiful daughter of a great house, 
 the head of which was in high favour with 
 the late Empress Anne, until that favour had 
 attracted the jealous notice of the supreme 
 favourite, the Duke of Courland. 
 
 The household tasks, which were obliged to 
 be performed even by the most delicate young 
 women in this dreary place of exile, were, at 
 first, no shght burden, and no slight sufiering. 
 But, as it has often been seen in similar cases, 
 and as may he seen in the present day. in our 
 Colonies, these delicate women are wont to meet 
 that part of their fate with a power of re- 
 solve, and with an equanimity, which surprises 
 themselves and all who see them. It is even 
 probable that these domestic duties and labours 
 prove the greatest source of comfort to those 
 who fulfill them. 
 
RECALL OF IVAN FROM SIBERIA. 8i 
 
 The most miserable among the exiles were 
 those who, like the Princess's father and mother, 
 were chiefly employed in bringing before their 
 own minds the recollections of a brilliant past, 
 and imbittering their nature by a constant 
 expression of hatred to those who had caused 
 their exile. Hatred is very catching j and it 
 would almost have been contrary to nature for 
 the Princess Marie, even had she not been some- 
 what of a fierce disposition herself, not to have 
 imbibed some of the unbounded hatred which 
 her father felt, and hour by hour, expressed, 
 for his persecutor, the Duke of Oourland. 
 
 It was but little in the way of political news 
 that ever reached these exiles. They did not 
 know that the Empress Anne was dead; and 
 the Prince supposed that his great enemy was 
 stiU supreme at the Russian Court, and was still 
 Bending fresh batches of exiles to the remote 
 parts of Siberia. The escort which had brought 
 the ex-regent to this town of Pelem, had arrived 
 in the evening, and had left on the ensuing 
 morning. It may be doubted whether the 
 rough soldiers who had formed the Duke of 
 Courland's escort, and who had received their 
 prisoner at a stage one hundred versts from 
 Pelem, their ultimate destination, were aware 
 of the rank of that prisoner, or, if they had 
 been aware, would have been in the least 
 degree interested by it. They performed their 
 hard duty in their hard way, and troubled them- 
 selves very little'about poUtical events. 
 
 Whatever may have been the cause, it is cer- 
 tain that the exiles in this town had not the 
 slightest notion that the moody man who dwelt 
 in this two-storied house, and who had only been 
 seen in the distance by one or two of them at 
 
 a 
 
82 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 early dawiij was their enemy and persecutor; 
 the man to whom most of them owed their 
 present state of suffering and exile. 
 
 An event, however, now occurred, which 
 would be likely to defeat all the Duke of Cour- 
 land's hopes of being able to remain unknown 
 to his companions. 
 
 At first, every one, however remotely con- 
 nected with the banished Duke, had been seiaed 
 and sentenced to a Siberian exile. Count 
 Miinnich was not a man who was disposed to 
 do his business by halves. The ex-regent's long 
 tenure of power had introduced his friends, or 
 those who were supposed to be such, into every 
 department of the State; and Count Miinnich 
 was naturally afraid of any counter-revolution 
 that might be attempted by a number of dis- 
 appointed and desperate men, who would be 
 aware that under the new regime they would be 
 looked upon with but little favour. They were 
 accordingly dealt with in the severe manner 
 that partisans of a defeated faction were sure 
 to be dealt with, in such a country and at such 
 a time. 
 
 The general joy, however, which was mani- 
 fested by the great body of the people, at the 
 downfall of the Eegent, tended to reassure both 
 Count Miinnich and the new Duchess Regent. 
 It was doubtless soon discovered, that in Biron's 
 family and household, there were many who 
 would have regarded his downfall with dehght, 
 if it had not involved themselves in ruin. 
 
 It now appeared, for men dared to speak out 
 (Openly, that our young hero, Ivan, had, on more 
 than one occasion, sought to mitigate his mas- 
 ter's fury ; and had even dared, secretly, to give 
 orders in that master's name, that certain exiles 
 
RECALL OF IVAN FROM SLBERIA. 83 
 
 should be humanely treated by tbe escort that 
 conveyed them on the outset of their journey 
 from St. Petersburg or Moscow. The pleasant 
 and comely countenance of the youth had been 
 noticed by the Duchess Eegent, to whom, on 
 some occasion during the first few days of his 
 regency, the Duke of Oourland had sent him to 
 obtain a signature, or to arrange some other 
 small matter of business. 
 
 It was not known at the time, and Ivan him- 
 self never knew who it was, that interceded in 
 his favour with the Duchess Eegent, or with 
 Count Miinnich, all-powerful for the time. But 
 the intercession was successful; and an order 
 was despatched to the place of the Duke of 
 Courland's banishment, recalling his private 
 secretary, Ivan, and one or two other persons of 
 inferior note, who had been exiled to that town 
 at the earlier time of Prince Menschikoff's down- 
 fall. 
 
 The persons who brought this order did not 
 return as quickly as the Duke of Courland's 
 escort had done.. One of them was a civilian, 
 the secretary to the Governor of one of the pro- 
 vinces of Siberia. This man was cognizant of all 
 that had occurred at Court ; and he had not 
 been many hours in the town before it was 
 known to all the inhabitants that the late Em- 
 press Anne was dead ; that the Duke of Cour- 
 land had been Regent for a few days ; that he 
 was deposed from power, and was now an exile 
 like themselves. The secretary to the Governor 
 was, of course^ aware that Biron himself was 
 there. He had gone first to the ex-regent's 
 house, with the order of release for Ivan; but 
 he had been moved by the Duke's prayers and. 
 entreaties — so far as not to betray the fact of th& 
 
 Q 2 
 
84 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 presence there of the late Sovereign minister. 
 The wary official probably bethought himself 
 thatj in the frequent revolutions to which 
 Eussia was subject, there might come one 
 "which would bring Biron back to power 
 again ; and the Duke, he well knew, was 
 not a man who would ever forget an injury. 
 This official person, therefore, promised lus 
 Highness to be silent as to the Duke's where- 
 abouts ; and he kept his word. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Prince Sbebatofi' was in an ecstasy of de- 
 light when he heard of the discomfiture of his 
 great enemy. " It makes me young again," he 
 exclaimed. " Think of the joy of thousands, who 
 must know now,^ or I trust they do, that this 
 ■villain is suffering what he has so long made aU 
 of us suffer. How is it, Marie, that you do not 
 partake our joy ? Even your mother no longer 
 weeps. Look out now. It is a scene of de- 
 light. Behold the mists crawUng up from this 
 hideous surface of the earth. Ha ! it is cold. 
 Would that it were ten times colder ! I hate 
 the spring now. Why does it come so early ? 
 He should have had all the agonies of a Siberian 
 winter, to burst upon him in the first moments 
 of his exile, as I had. There are no supreme 
 joys, Marie, without some drawback : and you, 
 girl, I do not understand you. Dance, sing, be 
 merry, put wood upon the fire. We will use it 
 aU up to-day J and, sitting round its merry 
 
86 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Haze, will tMnk of him, and hope, for God is 
 good, that there is no one to serve him, none of 
 his slaves with him, no one to tend his fire. 
 And his hands were dehcate. The soft hands of 
 a girl — the hands that were thought so beau- 
 tiful by his vain and empty-headed mistress." 
 
 The Princess Marie listened with a dejected 
 countenance to these wild ravings of her father. 
 Leaving the room upon some pretext of do- 
 mestic work, she thus spoke to herself, as, 
 with hasty steps, she walked up and down in 
 front of their hut : — 
 
 " How base am I ! I should rejoice at Ivan's 
 happiness, but, oh, what misery to me ! Would 
 that he had never come — that I had never been 
 mocked by the joy of his companionship ! And 
 then to lose him — ^lose him for ever; for some 
 girl wiU treat him better than I have done with 
 my caprice and folly. And men are not as 
 constant as we are. And then he is so loveable 
 and loving. He has not come near me. He 
 fears to come near me. He fears to show how 
 happy he is in quitting this detested place. But 
 there wiU be protestations and promises, and 
 vows. I distrust them all. He does not come, 
 and to whom should he have been the first to 
 tell his- good fortune ? Who would have sym- 
 pathised with him most deeply ? For 1 will do 
 so, whatever it shall cost me. We are not as 
 the meaner women, unable to command our 
 feelings; or, at least, we have the power to 
 conceal them." 
 
 She had been looking down upon the ground, 
 as she had uttered these words to herself; and, 
 looking up, she saw that Ivan was approaching 
 her. 
 
 No joy sat upon his countenance, but instead 
 of that, the utmost dejection. 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE. 87 
 
 "You have heard the news, Marie," he said 
 in a low Voice ; and, as he spoke, he put his arm 
 round her. She, however, disengaged herself 
 from it, and said, in calm tone's : " Yes, I have 
 heard it, Ivan, and it is glorious news indeed. 
 Eeoalled to St. Petersburg, perhaps to Court 
 favour, you will become a great man, Ivan. 
 You must quite forget us poor exiles who remain ; 
 but how," she added with a smile, " shall I ever 
 find another fellow-woodsman with his kind 
 aid to make my labour light ? To-day we were 
 to have sung together in the church, and I was 
 to have practised with you and taught you. 
 'Tis little I can teach, but I am the better 
 musician. Say, shall we try it ? for I suppose 
 you do not leave us suddenly, and we will have 
 a hymn of joy for your departure." 
 
 The only answer that he made, was to take 
 both her hands in his, and, looking at her stead- 
 fastly, if not severely, he uttered her name, 
 * Marie ' reproachfully. 
 
 She again disengaged herself from him, and 
 began talking much in the same strain in which 
 she had soliloquised, aU of which talk went to 
 show that she considered him as henceforward 
 free, and not likely to remember what had passed 
 between them while they were both in exile. 
 
 Ivan's anger was roused. He said to her, 
 " Princess Marie, you know that while you and 
 yours are in exile, at no moment of my life will 
 the thought that you are so, and the endeavour 
 to procure your recall, be laid aside. After, 
 that event, should it ever happen, I shall never 
 cease to love you as I have hitherto loved you, 
 with my whole heart and soul, but you shaU. then 
 be perfectly free ; and I am well aware that it 
 is not likely that the Priucess Marie Andreevna 
 
88 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 will ever t. TiinV more of one so much. beneath 
 her in station as I am. And let me tell you now, 
 knowing all your faults, knowing how hard it 
 would be to secure your affections, I still can 
 never love any other woman but you. Do you 
 think that anything would induce me to leave 
 you now, to give up the joy of sometimes sharing 
 your troubles and your burdens, if it were not 
 for the hope, however vain that hope may be, of 
 gaining your recall from this horrible place ? 
 Otherwise, it would be torture to me to leave you." 
 
 This was not exactly a lover-Kke speech, for 
 lovers seldom venture to allude to the faults of 
 their mistresses, but it was very significant of 
 the strong, frank, and determined character of 
 the young man, and perhaps it was the very best 
 mode that he could have adopted for subduing 
 her. 
 
 The Princess moved towards him timidly, then 
 threw her arms round him, and using the fondest 
 expressions of love, vowed that she would never 
 forget him in his absence, and would never marry 
 any one but him. At this moment the lovers 
 were interrupted by the sudden appearance on 
 the scene of the two persons who of all that 
 little community, would be to them the most 
 unwelcome witnesses of their parting as lovers. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 NAEISKOTF's CHAEACTEE and conduct — IVAN 
 LEAVES PELEM. 
 
 Amongst tte exiles who dwelt in that 
 little town of Pelem, was one of the name of 
 Nariskoff. 
 
 He was a person of remarkable character. 
 He had originally been a man of fortune, the lord 
 of many serf's. He had also been a great philan- 
 thropist ; and had, as a youth, for his father died 
 early, sought to improve the condition of those- 
 serfs. Previously to any great change for good, 
 in the world's affairs, there are solitary instances, 
 here and there, of persons who foresee the possi- 
 bility of attaining the good thing ; make prema- 
 ture attempts to attain it ; and perish in the 
 attempt. In this case it was not literally perish- 
 ing, for Nariskoff did not die ; but he lost his 
 fortune, and, what was more to be regretted, he 
 lost his faith and his hope in mankind. Few 
 men become so sour as disappointed philan- 
 thropists. 
 
90 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Nariskoff's main and guiding theory in his 
 early life was so remarkable a one, that it deserves 
 mention here, for, with some modifications, it is as 
 applicable at the present time as it was at that 
 period. He used to say, that as long as the 
 lower stratum of mankind was miserable, all the 
 other strata would be miserable too. He would 
 add : " Why all these strivings and strugglings in 
 our own class, but that we fear that we ourselves, 
 or our descendants, should fall down into that 
 lowest class. We desire especially to keep them 
 as far removed from that as possible ; and so we 
 plan, and we plot, and we work, and we slave, and 
 we contend with our fellow-men, and we worship 
 the great ' Emperor, Rouble ■*, and we are miser- 
 able, all of us." 
 
 This, of course, is but a very partial view of 
 human affairs; but poor Nariskoff was entirely 
 possessed by it j and it may not altogether be 
 unworthy of notice, in an age when competition 
 of all kinds is idolized. 
 
 Nariskoff had, by no means, even in his earlier 
 and better days, been without great faults of 
 character. He was a very sensual man. Much 
 love for ourselves, and for self-enjoyment, often 
 goes hand in hand with considerable love for 
 others, especially for their material well-being. 
 Nariskoff, deceived and even injured by those 
 serfs whom he had tried to raise — mocked at by 
 his neighbours — scorned by his relatives, who 
 had even endeavoured to make him out a lunatic, 
 — and looked upon by the authorities as a 
 dangerous man — ^fell into deep disgrace, as 
 well as utter misfortune. He was, however, 
 a very witty and humorous person ; and hav- 
 ing given up all hope of benefiting "those 
 •copious fools," as he was wont to caU them. 
 
NARISKOFF'S CHARACTER. 91 
 
 " his fellow creatures," and even having taken 
 a dislike to them, he resolved, for the remainder 
 of his life, to do little more than prey upon 
 them. 
 
 A Timon, of a lower order than that which the 
 great master of human character has depicted, 
 Nariskoff did not retire into a desert ; but, on the 
 contrary, sought out the busiest haunts of men. 
 His powers of entertainment made his presence 
 acceptable at the tables of the great. Grradually 
 he had become accustomed to his dependent 
 condition, and his wit degenerated more and 
 more into ill-natured personal satire, so that 
 latterly before his exile, his company had been 
 more sought from fear than from regard. 
 Though, comparatively speaking, an obscure 
 man, his obscurity had not saved him from exile. 
 When Prince Serbatoff was banished, Nariskoff, 
 being supposed to be an intimate friend of the 
 Prince's, was, with him, condemned to exUe. 
 There was not one of the exiles who more deplored 
 his lot than he did. He had become a thorough 
 sensualist, and bitterly mourned over the loss of 
 the rich viands and luxurious living for which he 
 had bartered his wit in former days. 
 
 During his exile he had shown no particular 
 gratitude to his former friend and benefactor. 
 Prince Serbatoff. Indeed, he considered the 
 Prince as the cause, however innocent, of his own 
 exile, and was embittered against him on that 
 account. He did not quarrel with the Prince : 
 quarrelling was not Nariskoff's forte ; but he did 
 not seek to do him any service, and indeed he 
 rather avoided the Serbatoff family, fearing lest 
 he might be called upon to aid the young Princess 
 in her servile labours. 
 
 One friend, however, or rather one associate. 
 
92 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 this man had fdund among the dwellers of that 
 little town. And this was a half-witted person of 
 the name of Matchka. This poor creature was 
 not an exUe, but one of the original inhabitants 
 of the town — ^perhaps a descendant of some exile. 
 If there were any special reason that made 
 Narisl?oflF attach himself to this simpleton, it was 
 that he could put into Matchka^ s mouth the ill- 
 natured sayings which he himself feared to utt€r. 
 
 It was the approach of Nariskoff and Matchka, 
 that had suddenly been noticed by the lovers, and 
 had not a' little disconcerted them. Most of the 
 inhabitants of the town had, at that time of the 
 day, gone to their work ; but Nariskoff, who some- 
 how or other still continued to live upon his wits 
 without work, and Matchka, who throve upon his 
 folly, did not indulge in daily labour, and could 
 afford time to observe other people, and to 
 meddle in their affairs. Indeed, it was upon this 
 meddling humour that they lived and prospered, 
 as far as anybody could prosper in that region of 
 misery. 
 
 Upon seeing these two men in the distance, 
 the lovers immediately separated, the Priacess 
 goiag into her father's hut, and Ivan returning to 
 the Duke of Courland's house. 
 
 It had been arranged that Ivan was to start 
 that evening on his return to St. Petersburg. 
 The scene at his departure was a very touching 
 one. Almost every family of the exiles had pre- 
 pared letters which they furtively entrusted to his 
 care. But, more than that,— he was almost torn 
 to pieces by persons privately soliciting Tiim to 
 aid their cause at Court. He had become a very 
 great man among them. No sooner had he begun 
 to Hsten to the story of some poor exjle,- who 
 was declaring his innocence of aU plots against 
 
IVAN LEA VES PELEM. 93 
 
 any governmentj and vowing that lie had always 
 felt the deepest attachment to the present Duchess 
 Regent and the Field Marshal, Oount Miinnioh, 
 than, he, (Ivan) was forcibly carried off to some 
 other group to Usten to a similar story and similar 
 protestations of duty and affection to the new 
 reigning powers. If any cynical observer, per- 
 fectly cognizant of the state of affairs at the 
 Eussian Court, had been present, it would have 
 amused him to think how idle, hay, how injudi- 
 cious such protestations were, seeing that at this 
 very time, the chief conspirators who had deposed 
 the Regent from power, were now in bitterest 
 enmity with one another. By the time that Ivan 
 reached the capital, another revolution, or semi- 
 revolution, had occurred; and Oount Miinnich 
 was no longer in power. 
 
 During the remainder of the day of Ivan's 
 ■departure, the two lovers had no opportunity of 
 meeting, except in the presence of other persons. 
 And when he left the town, the crowd of ap- 
 phcants for favour who surrounded him, prevented 
 the approach of her whose fond words at parting 
 could, alone, have been of any comfort to him. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 DISCOVEET Of THE DTJKE OP COUELAND BT HIS 
 FELLOW-EXILES. 
 
 When the exiles wlio dwelt in Pelern, had 
 time to think of anything but themselves and their 
 hopes in reference to the letters which they had 
 entrusted to Ivan, they could not help noticing 
 that the mysterious man, (friend, or relative they 
 knew not) with whom Ivan had dwelt, had not 
 made himself visible on the occasion of the young 
 man's departure, and had not been present to 
 exchange a parting salutation with him. 
 
 This man became more than ever an object of 
 curiosity^ and he was now occasionally obKged to 
 make himself visible, for though the Starost of 
 the village had received orders to supply him 
 with food and fuel, there were occasions on which, 
 from some trifling circumstance or other, he was 
 obliged to leave his house in the daytime. 
 
 Nariskoff had naturally had his eye upon this 
 mysterious stranger. He had shrewdly conjec- 
 tured that he must be a person of some especial 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE DUKE. 95 
 
 importance, to be favoured as tie was ; and 
 Nariskoff was anxious to share the advantages 
 which arose from this favour. He had before 
 schemed to secure the liking of rich and great 
 men, in order to sit at luxurious banquets ; but 
 now the humblest necessaries of life had become 
 in that community objects of the most precious 
 kind. Doubtless among savages there is as much 
 refined flattery with an eye to choice feathers, 
 sheUs, or wampum, as amongst civilized people 
 to gain favours of the highest kind. Nariskoff 
 had several times endeavoured to win an entrance 
 into the two-storied house ; but aU his advances 
 to its mysterious occupant had met with no shadow 
 of response. Nariskoff had therefore given up 
 this mode of procedure, and had determined upon 
 hostility to gain his ends. 
 
 It happened that one day at evening, the Duke, 
 feeling very solitary at home now that Ivan had 
 departed, had ventured out of his house. He 
 was still closely muffled up, and had devoted 
 himself to studying the means of disguising his 
 personal appearance. There were, unfortunately 
 for him, many of the exiles in the straggling 
 street at this moment. It was the day of a great 
 Russian festival ; and these exiles, like all other 
 persons in their position, held very much to 
 ancient usages which reminded them of home 
 and former days. The little church was lighted 
 upj and the townsmen were gathered together 
 in groups waiting to welcome a procession of 
 priests and choristers, who were to enter the 
 church, when the service would begin. 
 
 The Duke, on perceiving the concourse that 
 he had come upon most unwittingly, for he took 
 no heed of festivals, and indeed had always been 
 a stranger in the land, made a movement to 
 
96 IVAN D^ BIRON. 
 
 return to his house. Then, thinking probably 
 that this would excite increased suspicion, he 
 went boldly forward in the direction towards the 
 great forest that half-encircled the town. " Now," 
 thought Nariskoff, " is my opportunity ! " 
 
 Matchka was a devout believer in the Russian 
 ■Church and its ceremonies, in which he was often 
 allowed to take a humble part, and this was the 
 poor half-witted man's chief delight. He could 
 starve, or would, if he had any food, share it 
 with Ids friend Nariskoff, whom he venerated; 
 but not even Nariskoff could have persuaded him, 
 upon any pretext, to absent himself from the least 
 important ceremony of the Church. 
 
 Bitter, at that time, was the dislike of an 
 orthodox believer in the Greek Church to a fol- 
 lower of the sect of Ruskolnicks.* Suddenly the 
 thought flashed into Nariskoff's mind of what 
 might be done to tear off the veil, as it were, 
 from the mysterious man, by enlisting the foolish 
 Matchka's bigotry for that purpose. 
 
 "Matchka," he said, "do you see that man 
 going away from our great festival of Saint 
 Alexander Newski ? As I Hve, he is a Euskol- 
 nick. You must prevent his going. We will 
 know whether he is a Buskolnick or not ; and, if 
 he is, his presence must no longer defile Pelem. 
 Tou must insist upon seeing him face to face. 
 We never have seen what he looks hke." 
 
 This was quite sufiB^cient inducement for Matchka 
 to do what he then did. He ran after the Duke, 
 and seized him by his cloak, crying out at the 
 same time that he was a Buskolnick. A violent 
 altercation took place. The Duke endeavoured to 
 force his way on. Matchka barred his progress. 
 
 * Ruskoluick means ' divider ' or ' sectarian. 
 
DISCOVERY OF THE DUKE. 97 
 
 Meanwhilej Nariskoff had rapidly moved from 
 group to groupj and tad drawn their attention to 
 the contest between the fool and the mysterious 
 man. Nariskoff took Prince Serhatoff aside. 
 " My little Father," he said, " is there no one of 
 whom that man reminds you ? He must be some 
 one whom you would know, or he would not have 
 bread and fuel found for him by the orders of the 
 Governor, while we have to toil for our scanty 
 living." 
 
 The Prince, in general indifferent to all that 
 surrounded him, thinking himself the greatest 
 man amongst those exiles, who alone had 
 never even turned his head to look at this new 
 companion in misery, was compelled by Naris- 
 koff's earnest entreaties to turn and regard him. 
 
 The contest between Matchka and the Duke 
 had now proceeded from words to blows. They 
 closed in their encounter ; and, as they struggled 
 together, the Duke's cloak, his furred cap, and 
 some parts of his artificial disguisement were 
 torn off. 
 
 " God in Heaven ! " exclaimed the Prince, " it 
 is the Duke of Courland — the Eegent of yester- 
 day — the accursed wretch to whom aU our misery 
 is due ! " 
 
 Prom group to group the information spread 
 like wildfire. At first there was doubt ; but not 
 for long, as many there had seen and trembled 
 at the countenance of the Duke of Courland. 
 Then there was wonder : then horror mixed .with 
 fear, as of slaves who suddenly see their master 
 bereft of power, but still, from the tyranny of 
 custom, cannot beUeve it. Then there was a 
 general movement towards him ; and he was at 
 bay with aU his enemies — enemies who had for 
 years been nursing hatred towards him. Matchka 
 
 H 
 
98 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 had now got tlie best of the encounter, and 
 remained at a few paces from the Duke, crying 
 out loudly that he was a Euskolnick. 
 
 The greatness of mind which there was in 
 De Biron, did not desert him on this occasion. 
 He looked composedly around and said, " Yes, I 
 am the Duke of Courland, by right your Eegent ; 
 and what then ? " 
 
 The crowd were awed at first ; but this awe did 
 not last long. The more Ariolent of them sprang 
 upon him. So fierce and furious was their handling 
 of him, that his clothing was almost at once torn 
 to pieces. This would undoubtedly have been his 
 last moment of life, had not the priests and their 
 attendants, wondering at the neglect which their 
 entry into the church had met with, come out of 
 it agam, and approached the scene of conflict. 
 
 With sturdy blows and violent denunciations, 
 which no man ventured to return or gainsay, they 
 forced their way towards the Duke's assailants, 
 and imperatively demanded that he should be 
 given up to them. Prince Serbatoff seconded 
 their endeavours, and he was warmly aided by 
 the Starost. Their joint commands were obeyed. 
 The Duke, in a most miserable plight, — half- 
 naked, bruised and bleeding — was delivered up 
 to the priests, who led him to his own house, 
 around which, till midnight, the ceremonies of 
 the church being altogether forgotten, there 
 was one wild, continuous howl of execra- 
 tion. 
 
BOOK 11. 
 CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 A woman's PITT POE THE DUKE OP COTJELAND. 
 
 With the exception of those who were 
 blind or bed-ridden, there was not a single person 
 in the little community of exiles, who had not 
 been a witness of the proceedings recounted in 
 the last chapter. The Princess Marie was one 
 of the maidens who assisted in the choiPj and 
 she had come out of the church with the priests, 
 when they hurried forth to learn the cause of 
 the disturbance. She had seen the man to 
 whom aU eyes had been directed in the pleni- 
 tude of his power; and she could not but re- 
 member, that, at her first appearance at the 
 Russian Court, her chief desire had been to 
 know what he was like, who was the greatest 
 man at Court. She had been presented to him ; 
 and was much gratified by the few kind words 
 which he had addressed to the daughter 
 of his colleague, whom he had not then deter- 
 mined to send to Siberia. 
 
 It was impossible for one, in whose mind was 
 
 h2 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 much of poetry and romance, not to be affected 
 greatly when she beheld the same man dragged 
 to his house, wounded, bleeding and half naked, 
 a miserable spectacle to gods and men. Not 
 that her hatred was less ; for the Princess had 
 inherited from her father an ample faculty for 
 hating. 
 
 Her first thoughts, however, were about Ivan ;. 
 and they were very bitter. She felt that she 
 had been deceived. She absolutely raged at the 
 thought that this young man, the devoted fol- 
 lower, for so she held him to be, of the arch- 
 enemy of her house, had gained her love without 
 revealing himself. In her first access of anger, 
 she did not pause to think that Ivan was bound 
 by the strictest ties of honour, not ,to disclose his 
 master's name ; neither did she pause to con- 
 jecture that which had really been the truth, 
 namely, that Ivan had at first sought her society, 
 in order that he might aid her in her daily 
 domestic labours. He had, it is true, admired 
 her at a distance, when she first appeared at 
 Court. He had afterwards, on the downfall of 
 her family, constituted himself their ujiknown 
 protector. But, at the beginning of their in- 
 timacy at Pelem, it had never entered even into 
 his wildest dreams to imagine that he should 
 win her love, or should even attempt to do so. 
 
 The community of exUe had not effaced that 
 difference of rank and station, which, in later 
 times, was maintained in the prisons of the 
 French revolution, where the noblesse still held 
 together, and when the difference of caste was 
 felt up to the very moment when the tumbril 
 was to convey to the guillotine the ill-assorted 
 batches of human victims. 
 
 But the love had come ; and even, with her 
 
A WOMAN'S PITY FOR THE DUKE. loi 
 
 present feelings of bitterness and almost of 
 aversion^ the Princess could not but own to her- 
 self, for she was one of those persons who never 
 knowingly practised self-deception, that she 
 loved Ivan, and only Ivan, and would continue 
 to love him to the end of her days. She did not, 
 however, hesitate in making a stem resolve to 
 gjive him up. And it was with a feeling of 
 indignation that she thought of the efforts he 
 would be sure to make, to procure the recall of 
 herself and her family. She hated to think of 
 being under obligation to one who, as she 
 thought, had so cruelly and basely deceived 
 her. 
 
 It may be imagined with what expressions of 
 triumph and joy the Prince described to his 
 blind wife the scene which he had just wit- 
 nessed, and the part which he himself had taken 
 in it. Yet even he could not altogether omit 
 throwing in some remarks which tended to- 
 wards pity, when he dwelt upon the contrast of 
 the Eegent's former position and of his present 
 condition. It might have been observed, that the 
 Prince had a cynical delight in speaking of De 
 Biron as the Regent. 
 
 The poor blind lady, a deeply religious woman, 
 could not help occasionally expressing her pity 
 in such moderate terms as she ventured to use in 
 her husband's presence ; and, when she was 
 alone with her daughter, she spoke with the ful- 
 ness of commiseration which her own long- 
 suffering had taught her. 
 
 Women have a great pity for physical suffer- 
 ing. It is a blessed thing that it is so. There 
 are some amongst them who perhaps do not 
 sympathize as much as men expect with the 
 mental anxieties and sufferings of a man, and 
 
102 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 especially with, his care about distant things — 
 distant from home as it were, sucli as the great 
 questions touching upon politicSj religion, or 
 the future hopes and prospects of the world. 
 But, for present disaster of any kind and for 
 physical suffering, women have a depth and 
 keenness of pity and sympathy which is almost 
 beyond the ken of the sterner partners of their 
 lives. 
 
 It is well, for the understanding of the com- 
 plicated history of Eussia at this period, and 
 also for the right understanding of this nar- 
 rative, to state that De Biron's overthrow^ how- 
 ever much personal gratification it might afford 
 to people like the Prince, was not, politically- 
 speaking, a great cause for rejoicing to them. 
 The friends of Menschikoff, Peter the Great's 
 favourite, and notably those who had been em- 
 ployed by the late Empress Anne, were con- 
 sidered by the present Duchess Eegent as her 
 especial enemies ; and the Regent's downfall 
 was not a revolution which could affect them 
 favourably. Now the Prince was one of those 
 persons ; and, therefore, no word of congratula- 
 tion passed among the members of this family 
 with regard to their own future prospects by 
 reason of the political changes which had oc- 
 curred. 
 
 The Princess Marie passed an agitated and 
 sleepless night. The turmoil of her soul was 
 great. She was torn by emotions of the most 
 opposite kind. Her love for Ivan — her wrath with 
 him — even contempt for him — ^her hatred for the 
 Duke of Courland — her pity for his abject con- 
 dition — alternately occupied and ruled her mind. 
 At last she came to a determination, respecting 
 which it would be very difficult to assign aU the 
 
A WOMAN'S PITY FOR THE DUKE. 103 
 
 motives, good and bad, which led to it. One 
 motive must be candidly confessed. It was, 
 however, an after-thought. But it must be 
 owned that the Princess did think that what she 
 was about to do, would be a sort of triumph 
 over Ivan, and would serve to diminish the 
 weight of any obligation which either his past 
 or Hs future services to her family might impose 
 upon her. These after-thoughts of worldly 
 wisdom often occur, as attendants upon the most 
 generous actions, and are even used as an excuse 
 for performing those actions. 
 
BOOK 11. 
 CHAPTER Yin. 
 
 THE duke's COMPOETEE. 
 
 We must return to the Duke of Courland. 
 His sufferings were great; but, strange to say, 
 they were more of a physical than a moral kind. 
 He had often anticipated in his mind the dis- 
 covery that had just occurred, and its conse- 
 quences, so that when the evil thing reaUy did 
 come, it neither surprised nor shocked him very 
 much. He had, in fact, never hoped to escape 
 with life when it should once be discovered who 
 he was. 
 
 The Duke was a man of nice and deUcate 
 habits who had loved luxury and splendour very 
 much ; and his cruelty to others had not rendered 
 him less tender of his own person. He dressed 
 his wounds as best he could, re-clothed himself, 
 and laid himself down on the floor, for he feared 
 lest, if he went to bed, he should there be sur- 
 prised, ia a most defenceless state, by an inroad 
 of his enemies. 
 
 It was two or three hours after mid-night ; and 
 
THE DUKE'S COMFORTER. 103 
 
 lie was slumbering with the light and broken 
 sleep which is the utmost that persons in pain 
 and in great fear of peril can hope to enjoy, when 
 he' was awakened by a gentle knocking at the 
 door of his house. He made no movement in 
 response. The knocking continued. On reflec- 
 tion it seemed likely to him that the priests or 
 the Starost of the village might be coming to him 
 on a good errand, wisMng to remove him secretly 
 from the fury of the people. 
 
 He went softly to the roof of the house, and 
 looked down. By the light of the moon, he saw 
 that it was a woman, and, as it seemed to him, 
 a young woman who was still gently knocking 
 at the door. At first he thought that there 
 might be some ambush, and that there were 
 persons ready to rush in, if he should open the 
 door to her. He gazed intently : he listened 
 intently. There was nothing unusual to be seen 
 or heard ; and the brilliancy with which the moon 
 shone, was such as to light up every nook and 
 corner near the house. 
 
 The Duke went down and admitted his visitor. 
 He held up his lamp to her face as she entered ; but 
 he did not recognize any countenance that he had 
 ever known. In truth it would have been diflB.- 
 cult to recognize, in the imbrowned features, in 
 the sordid dress, and in the marked lines of pur- 
 pose which were now to be seen in the Princess 
 Marie^s countenance, the palUd, delicate, refined 
 and splendidly attired young lady who had been 
 introduced to him at Court. 
 
 " What are you come for ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " To take care of you," she replied. 
 
 " Why ? " was his answer. " Are you a friend, 
 or the daughter of a friend ? Are you sent by 
 the priests, or by the Starost ? " 
 
io6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " No I am not : you must be illj you are 
 wounded, you are in pain ; and it is my duty, as 
 a woman, to care for you." 
 
 The Duke looked at her fixedly. He had not 
 hitherto had a very good opinion of mankind. As 
 far as he had known them, they had been chiefly 
 servile adulators, or nascent conspirators. It 
 was, perhaps, the first time in his life that he felt 
 what possible worth there was in human nature. 
 He shivered slightly, then took her hand, and 
 felt the tears rise to his eyes, the pitying tears 
 for himself, and a sort of sympathy with her sym-. 
 pathy for himself. 
 
 There was but little more said between them. 
 She only remarked in business-like tones, that 
 her time was short ; and then, quite composedly, 
 as if she had been as accustomed to dress wounds 
 as a Sister of Mercy at a hospital, she un- 
 rolled some linen bandages which she had pre- 
 pared. 
 
 So clumsily had the Duke dressed his own 
 wounds, that the blood was slightly oozing from 
 their bandages. He submitted himself entirely 
 to her management, far more skilful than his 
 own ; and half an hour was spent before his 
 wounds had been re-dressed, and every allevia- 
 tion that she could give to his sufierings, had been 
 rendered. 
 
 Before they parted, he again sought to know 
 who she was. She declined to teU him. He 
 seized her hand, and pressed it warmly. She 
 withdrew it with evident repugnance. He was 
 unable to flatter himself that there was any 
 friendly feeling, or anything more than the 
 merest woman-like pity in the service this girl 
 had rendered to him. She only said, on leaving 
 the house, "T: will come again to-morrow 
 night." 
 
THE DUKE'S COMFORTER. 107 
 
 Notwithstanding her injunctions that he should 
 not leave his position^ he rushed to the door 
 directly she had quitted it ; but was not quick 
 enough to discern which way she had taken ; and 
 he remained in utter ignorance of the dwelling 
 of his benefactress. 
 
 Comforted in body, but not consoled in mind^ 
 the ex-Eegent lay down upon the floor again. 
 
 Night after night the Princess Marie returned 
 to render him similar services. By day he was 
 safe, as the Starost of the village had placed a 
 guard near the house ; but little or no attention 
 had, otherwise, been given to his sufferings^ In- 
 deed none cared whether he lived or died. The 
 only desire of the priests and the Starost was 
 that the Duke's death should not be caused by 
 violence at the hands of his brother exiles. 
 
 There have been many strange conversations 
 in the world ; but perhaps none have been 
 stranger than those which took place between the 
 Princess Marie Andreevna Serbatoff and his 
 Highness the ex-Regent of Russia. 
 
 He felt intuitively that she condemned him,, 
 and that she was probably one of those who had 
 suffered from his indiscriminate cruelty. He 
 sought to justify himself. He told her the story 
 of his life. He enumerated the great things he- 
 had done, and the great things he intended ta 
 have done, for Russia. ' 
 
 Her replies, when any replies she made, were 
 chilling. Once, and once only, she reminded 
 him of a signal act of cruelty which he had 
 authorized. He bowed his head, and made no 
 answer. The Princess Marie felt at the moment- 
 how untrue she had been to the functions she had 
 taken upon herself of a nurse to this wretched 
 being ; and she did not commit a similar fault 
 
io8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 again — at any rate during the height of his 
 iUness, and when any excitement might increase 
 his feverish symptoms. 
 
 It would be tedious to recount the various con- 
 versations which took place between the Princess 
 Marie and the Duke of Courland. It may suffice 
 to relate the following one as being very signifi- 
 cant of the characters of these two remarkable 
 persons. The Princess Marie^ woman-like, 
 sought to do some good to the soulj as well as to 
 the body of her patient. She had been bred up 
 to think him. a monster of iniquity, and was sur- 
 prised to perceive few, if any, signs of repentance 
 for his former cruelties. 
 
 The conversation turned, as she often contrived 
 it should turn, upon the ways of managing men. 
 It may be premised that the Princess, finding it 
 ■awkward to be without a name for these occasions, 
 had on a previous day told the Duke to call her 
 Katerina. It was her mother's name. 
 
 The conversation which had begun in a playful 
 way, about the difficulty of managing a sick man, 
 had come to this pass, that they were in high 
 dispute upon the vexed question, still remaining 
 vexed for us, as to whether men were to be ruled 
 by gentleness or severity. 
 
 " I do not see the use of so much knout,'' the 
 Princess exclaimed ; " it only hardens men." 
 
 " I do : " replied the Duke, " you would, I sup- 
 pose, prefer the punishment of death? " 
 
 " I should prefer no punishment at all," rejoined 
 the Princess somewhat nettled, — " no punishment 
 at all for most of the so-called crimes which have 
 been so severely punished in recent times." 
 
 '' Did you know my private Secretary, Kate- 
 rina ? You must, I think, have seen him. A 
 tall young man with fair hair ? He used to sing 
 ■with the priests." 
 
THE DUKE'S COMFORTER. 109 
 
 "Eather innocent looking, if I recollect rightly," 
 was lier reply. 
 
 " Yes : innocent looking," said the Duke : 
 " more so than some people who are wont to talk 
 the same nonsense as he did. I remember — 
 'twas that same night when the arch-villain, 
 Miinnich, stole upon me — that this youth was 
 good enough (I own I asked for his opinion) to 
 impart to me his views of government, and to 
 inform me that my rule had been too severe. 
 The young are always rebels — rebels at heart." 
 
 " Perhaps," replied the Princess, " it is be- 
 cause they are justly dissatisfied with the rule of 
 their elders, and think that something better 
 might be made of life than what they see around 
 them. 
 
 "And is that 'better'" said the Duke, "to 
 come by means of conspiracies and revolutions ? 
 Now listen to me, young woman, have you 
 ever thought what a State is ? " 
 
 "I don't know, my lord, that I have ever 
 thought what statesmen like your Highness take 
 a State to be ;, but it seems to my poor childish 
 mind, that a State is not a very glorious thing,, 
 when it requires to be maintained by the constant 
 use of the knout, the rack, the axOj and exile." 
 
 The Duke of Courland walked up and down 
 the room several times in silence ; and then with 
 much energy of voice and manner addi-essed the 
 Princess thus. 
 
 "There are millions of fellow-subjects in 
 this State, that we are talking of. Every one of 
 them has infinite desires. He would be all in all.. 
 It is only by the strong arm of the law suspended 
 over him, that he is held for a moment from 
 molesting his weaker neighbour. The State 
 may be ever so rudely formed ; but it has taken. 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years to get it 
 into any form whatever — to enable men to work 
 together in something like peace, and to husband 
 something for the future. If this be true of 
 •other States, it is pre-eminently true of Russia — 
 ■of Russia, hardly yet rescued from the condition 
 of wandering nomadic tribes. And all this you 
 would upset upon the chance of making some- 
 thing better — you, with your juvenile wisdom, 
 Katerina. Ivan, that is his name, was almost as 
 wise as yourself." 
 
 The Princess felt that she blushed as she heard 
 their names so brought together. Had Ivan told 
 the ex-Regent anything? Surely not, she said 
 to herself. 
 
 The Duke continued. "You brush away, in 
 your housewifely neatness, a spider's web. It 
 is well — but could you make the thing again ? 
 Not even that. And yet you are sure you could 
 reconstruct, and greatly improve upon the deli- 
 cate but strong net-work of interwoven webs of 
 custom, law, manners, lineage and history, of 
 which a State is formed, and by which its people 
 are kept in harmony. Unravel it, or destroy 
 it, you can, if rulers are fools enough to let 
 you do so." ' 
 
 Again there was silence for a minute or two, 
 for the Princess, perceiving the fierce irony of the 
 ■ex-Regent's mood, did not dare to interrupt him. 
 *' Why, girl," he resumed, " did I not, as I have 
 told you before, raise towns, build bridges, keep 
 Tivers within due bounds, bring men of science 
 to the capital, and continually promote that 
 ■civilization, which had been the dream — a noble 
 one, I must say — of that barbarian Peter ? And 
 then, that smooth-faced youth and you, for I can 
 see what you are always hinting at, would con- 
 
THE DUKES COMFORTER. in 
 
 demn the Duke of Conrland because he sent a 
 few thousand useless and troublesome people 
 into exilcj and so saved the State." 
 
 In almost every Russian room there is, in one 
 of the comers of it, a rude picture of the Almighty 
 or of our Saviour, with a lamp burning under it. 
 
 The only reply the Princess made to this 
 tirade, was by pointing to this picture and 
 saying, " Were those the means that He would 
 tave used — that He enjoined ? " 
 
 "I did not rule over Christians," replied the 
 Duke. 
 
 "I thought," said the Princess, "that the 
 orthodox Greek Church was Christian." 
 
 " Youthought so, did you, my innocent Katerina: 
 some thousands of years hence, the mass of 
 mankind may be Christian, for aught I know, 
 — though I think it unlikely; but it is not 
 Christian now, and must be ruled as it was 
 in Pagan times. Boys and girls may dream ; 
 but it is men who have to rule. That is the 
 answer I have to make to you — you cowards — as 
 well as to her." Here the Duke looked wildly 
 about him. 
 
 This was the first time that the Princess had any 
 suspicion, and now it was but a faint suspicion, 
 of the Duke's remorse ; for she could perceive 
 that he was addressing some imaginary beings. 
 She began to fear for his sanity ; and, as rapidly 
 as possible; endeavoured to change the subject, 
 requesting to see how his wounds were pro- 
 gressing. The Duke perceived her aim, and 
 fearing lest by his violence he should have 
 frightened her, said no more upon these dan- 
 gerous topics ; but submitted his wounds for her 
 inspection ; and for the short time that remained 
 previously to her departure, endeavoured to make 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 the conversation ligtt and lively, and so to efface 
 the painful impression wliicli lie saw that he had 
 made upon her mind. Pew persons were more 
 skilled than the Duke of Courland in all the arts 
 which go to make pleasant companionship. It 
 was not, however, without many misgivings as 
 regarded his sanity, and some fear as to any 
 future visit, that the Princess Marie took her 
 departure that morning as daylight began to 
 appear. 
 
 The Duke of Courland, as is the case with 
 many men whose whole lives are spent in the 
 endeavour to rise in the world, had never really 
 known what love was. He had never profoundly 
 admired, or greatly respected, any woman. He 
 had been the late Empress's favourite ; and, as 
 many persons believed, her favoured lover. He 
 had married a daughter of one of the nobles of 
 Cawland; and his marriage had not been an 
 unhappy one. Neither had he failed, in earlier 
 days, to have considerable affection for the 
 Empress, who had been constant to him in 
 almost slavish devotion. But he had never 
 known what it was to lose all thought of himself 
 in his admiration for any woman ; to idealize 
 all her perfections; and to think that converse 
 with her was the greatest blessing this earth 
 could give. 
 
 Something of that kind he began to feel now ; 
 an.d yet it was not exactly love that he felt, at 
 least in its ordinary sense. The Duke was a 
 very shrewd man, and knew that there was 
 nothing like love possible either on her side, 
 or on his. He fully recognized that it was only 
 from pity, that she had devoted herself to serve 
 and tend an outcast, such as he was. He 
 worshipped her from a distance, as it were; 
 
THE DUKES COMFORTER. ii^ 
 
 and the improvement in the character of the 
 man, might be seen, in that he it was who 
 urged her, night after night, not to return to 
 him again, at peril to herself, though he felt that 
 almost the only hope or comfort left to him in 
 life, was the returning presence of this maiden. 
 
 If we were to analyse what were the Princess. 
 Marie's thoughts and feelings, we should find 
 that her hatred for the ex-Regent had greatly 
 diminished. It is almost impossible for a man,, 
 it is certainly impossible for a woman, to serve 
 and tend any human being, without acquiring, 
 though almost unconsciously, a certain liking for 
 the creature so served, and tended. And the 
 Princess, though she possessed a character of 
 some sternness, was not superior to her sex in 
 this respect. She began to feel much less of 
 disgust, and somewhat even of regard, for one, 
 to whom she had rendered such great service. 
 
 During this time remarkable events were 
 occurring at the Court of Russia, which had 
 much inSuence upon the fate and fortunes of 
 most of the persons who were actors in this 
 story ; and these events must now be related. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE PKiNCiss Elizabeth's chaeactee and position 
 
 THE DUCHESS OF BRUNSWICK MADE EEGENT — 
 
 LBSTOCQ AND THE BEENCH AMBASSADOR LA CHK- 
 TAEDIE THEIR CONSPIEACT. 
 
 Thbee are those who contend that the 
 march of events would have been all the same 
 whether certain forcible individuals who, more- 
 over, have had the opportunity of bringing their 
 powers into action, had lived or not. This, 
 however, seems but fond pedantry to those, who, 
 on the other hand, think that all history is, for 
 the most part, little else than a series of 
 biographies of eminent persons. 
 
 To this latter class of the students of history, 
 it must ever appear strange that a certain eminent 
 person at the Russian Court had, hitherto, during 
 the various changes of supreme power, made so 
 little figure, and had been apparently of so little 
 account. 
 
 This person was the Princess Elizabeth, 
 daughter of Peter the Great and of Catharine 
 his second wife. 
 
1 1 8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 There was no Salic law in Russia. 
 
 The Princess was known to be a woman of 
 considerable ability, inheriting many of her 
 father's great qualities ; and yet on every occasion 
 she is unaccountably passed over. It is not to 
 be supposed that her illegitimacy (for she was 
 bom during the lifetime of Peter's first wife) 
 was, alone, a sufficient disqualification. The 
 most plausible solution that occurs, is, that, in. the 
 early part of her life, she was utterly unambitious, 
 and indeed was wholly devoted to pleasure of all 
 kinds. During the greater part of the reign of 
 the Empress Anne, the Princess BHzabeth had 
 remained perfectly quiet; had never meddled 
 with State affairs; nor, apparently, had taken 
 any interest in them. She probably thought that 
 the Crown would quietly devolve upon her after 
 the death of that Empress. 
 
 It was not until the present Duchess Regent, 
 who was only a grand-daughter of Peter the 
 Great's elder brother, married Anthony Ulric, 
 Duke of Brunswick, that the Princess began to 
 form a party. 
 
 This she did with the utmost secrecy. She 
 might still have been chosen by Biron to succeed 
 the Empress Anne, but for the circumstance of 
 an infant child being bom to the, Duchess of 
 Brunswick. 
 
 The infancy of this child gave a pretext for 
 Biron's appointment to the Regency; and, 
 doubtless, induced him to use his predominant 
 influence in favour of the choice which the 
 Empress finally made of this infant as her suc- 
 cessor. 
 
 The Grand Duchess of Branswick, now the 
 Regent, committed a great political error, though 
 a very natural one, when she joined with Miinnick 
 
LESTOCQ AND THE AMBASSADOR. 119 
 
 in his conspiracy against Biron. By tlie Duke 
 of Oourland's downfall the Grand Duchess was 
 deprived of the only statesman who could have 
 saved her, and assured the kingdom to her infant 
 son. It is true that another statesman was left 
 to her — Count Ostermann. But his infirmities, 
 though sometimes exaggerated by him, and made 
 most useful to account for his absence on any 
 critical occasionj were realj'and would not allow 
 him to supply the place of the vigorous and 
 suspicious Duke of Conrland.. 
 
 On the other handj the Princess Elizabeth had 
 two persons who were devoted to her interests, 
 and were very ready to embark in conspiracy, if 
 not well-skilled in, conducting it. They were 
 both of them Frenchmen. One was Lestocq, the 
 surgeon of her household; the other was the 
 Marquis De la Chetardie, the French ambas- 
 sador. 
 
 Ambassadors ia those days did not hesitate to 
 interfere, as partisans, in the internal affairs of 
 the countries they were accredited to ; and, it is 
 said, that La Chetardie had instructions from his 
 own Court to foment any kind of internal discord 
 in Russia, with a view to prevent her from be- 
 coming troublesome to the rest of Europe, and 
 especially to France. 
 
 Lestocq was of French extraction, the son of 
 French exiled Protestants ; but his whole bearing 
 partook more of the general character of his com- 
 patriots than of that of his religious brethren. He 
 had been originally in Peter the Great's own 
 household ; and it is said that he was dismissed 
 by that Emperor on account of his unmitigated 
 debauchery. The existence of anysuch squeamish- 
 ness on the part of that monarch, may be doubted. 
 A more probable conjecture is, that Peter had 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 discovered Lestocq's intriguing disposition and 
 dangerous character ; and that the debaucheries 
 served as a pretext for dismissal — ^the more so as 
 Lestocq had been admitted into the Princess 
 Elizabeth's household in the same capacity as 
 that which he had filled in her father's. 
 
 Lestocq's frivolous manners^ his love of talking, 
 and his careless mode of speaking about every- 
 thing, were no doubt greatly in his favour, as a 
 means of concealment for his dangerous designs. 
 He was, however, g^reatly suspected by some of 
 the ministers of the Grand Duchess Eegent, and 
 by the foreign ambassadors who were not in the 
 interest of Prance. Between the Prench ambas- 
 sador. La Chetardie, and Lestocq, there was 
 great intimacy, and constant communication. 
 The two conspirators took care never to meet 
 either at the French ambassador's Palace, or at 
 the Palace of the Princess Elizabeth ; but they 
 had some obscure place of meeting, in which a 
 conspiracy was being formed to subvert the 
 Duchess Eegent, to alter the succession of the 
 throne, and to place the Crown upon the head of 
 the Princess Elizabeth. 
 
 In addition to these two devoted friends, the 
 Princess had her own dissembling spirit j and 
 she was profound in dissimulation. 
 
 The Duchess Regent, on the contrary, was an 
 indolent, good-natured, placable woman, who, so 
 long as she could shut herself up in her private 
 apartments with her infant child and with 
 her iavourite, Juliana de Mengden, was con- 
 tented to let the world go on very much as it 
 
 For the first few months after Biron's exile, 
 the Duchess Regent and the Princess Elizabeth 
 were apparently upon the best terms of har- 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 121 
 
 mony. Gradually, however, mutual distrust 
 arose ; and it might have raised the most serious 
 suspicions in any other mind but that of the 
 indolent Duchess Regent, to find that the Prin- 
 cess never went to see her, except upon days of 
 ceremony, or when, from strict etiquette, she 
 was obliged to pay some visit to the Court. Her 
 presence at that Court was rendered more irk- 
 some and displeasing to her by reason of a 
 project which had been formed by the reigning 
 powers to unite the Princess in marriage to a 
 brother of the Grand Duke of Brunswick. 
 
 In order to further the conspiracy, for Eliza- 
 beth had now determined to conspire, money 
 was wanting, and this the French ambassador 
 liberally supplied. He was also most useful in. 
 guiding Lestocq, with whom he had many secret 
 ■conferences. 
 
 The aim of the conspirators was, that the re- 
 volution should be caused by the soldiery ; and 
 the Princess Elizabeth began by gaining over 
 several of the soldiers of the Preobraskenski 
 regiment. Her principal agent in this matter 
 was a man of better education than most of 
 his fellows. His name was Grunstein. He 
 had been a merchant, had become bankrupt, 
 and had enlisted in the Pi'eobraskenski regi- 
 ment. By degrees he gained over twenty-nine 
 other Grenadiers to become members of the 
 plot. ' 
 
 The ambassadors of the great Powers, who 
 were hostile to Prance, or who, at any rate, did 
 not' take the same view of Russian affairs as the 
 French ambassador, did not fail to warn the 
 Duchess Regent of her danger. 
 
 Lestocq was a giddy, vain man ; and he had 
 been heard to say, on some occasion, at a cafe. 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 that there would soon be seen great clianges in 
 St. Petersburg. Count Ostermann, who was 
 well supplied with intelligence by his spies, re- 
 ported this talk to the Duchess Eegent, who^ 
 however, only laughed at it. It cannot be said 
 that the conspii-acy was well managed. There 
 were now many persons having strong suspi- 
 cions that such a project was on foot ; and, be- 
 sides, anything that is absolutely confided to 
 more than two or three human beings, cannot, 
 well be called a secret. 
 
 Still the Princess EHzabeth delayed to strike a 
 a bold stroke ; and, indeed, when it was pressed 
 upon her to do so, she always found some good 
 reason for delay. At length, however, it was 
 resolved, with her consent, that on the 6th of 
 January, 1 742 (Twelfth Day, when all the troops 
 in garrison at St. Petersburg are paraded on the 
 ice of the Neva), the deed should be done. The 
 Princess was to go there, and was to make a 
 speech to her regiment of Preobraskenski, de- 
 claring her claim to the Empire. They would 
 no doubt receive this speech with acclamation ; 
 the other regiments would follow their ex- 
 ample ) and thus the conspiracy was sure to be 
 successful. 
 
 This determination was taken at least a month 
 before it was to be put into execution ; but cer- 
 tain events occurred which greatly tended to 
 confirm the resolve of the Princess Elizabeth, 
 and to hasten her action. It was about this 
 time that she learnt that the Grand Duchess had 
 been advised to declare herself Empress. It 
 was also about this time that certain regiments 
 stationed at St. Petersburg were ordered to join 
 the army in Sweden. In these regiments were 
 many adherents to the cause of the Princess. 
 
THE CONSPIRACY. 123 
 
 Neither, however, of these important and un- 
 toward circumstances would probably have suf- 
 ficed to make the Princess act swiftly and reso- 
 lutely, as long as the Grand Duchess herself did 
 not make a move in the game. She was re- 
 peatedly warned of the existence of some con- 
 spiracy. The Marquis De Botta, ambassador 
 from the Queen of Hungary, addressed her in 
 these solemn words : — " Your Imperial Highness 
 has declined assisting the Queen my mistress, 
 notwithstanding the aUiance between the two 
 Courts J but as there is now no remedy for that, 
 I hope that, with the assistance of God, and of 
 our other allies, we shall get out of our difficul- 
 ties : but, at least, madam, do not at present 
 neglect the taking care of yourself. You are 
 on the brink of a precipice. In the name of 
 God, save yourself ! Save the Emperor ! Save 
 your husband ! " 
 
 Even these emphatic words seem to have pro- 
 duced little or no impression, at the time, on the 
 torpid miad of the Grand Duchess who re- 
 maiued perfectly inert. 
 
BOOK III. 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 SCENES AT THE PEEOBEASKENSKI CAEB. 
 
 It was in the depth of winter at St. Peters- 
 burg, and the time was evening, when a middle- 
 aged gentleman might be seen making his way on 
 foot through some back streets to a low kind of 
 cafe, which was situated on the banks of the 
 Neva. 
 
 He did not seem the kind of person who 
 would be likely to frequent such places of 
 amusement. His furs were of the cbstliest, and 
 his dress altogether was particularly well cared- 
 . for. He walked with a jaunty air, and dandled 
 his cane iu such a dainty fashion as might have 
 given our great poet Pope the idea of Sir 
 Plume. 
 
 " Sir Plume of amber smiff-box justly vain, 
 And the nice conduct of a clouded cane." 
 
 Notwithstanding his jaunty air, this fine gentle- 
 man did not seem thoroughly at ease. He 
 walked down the middle of the streets, and fre- 
 
AT THE PREOBRASKENSKI CAFE. 125 
 
 quently turned to see whether any one was fol- 
 lowing him. Then he would gaily hum a French 
 air, and. recommence his walk. Except on 
 accoimt of this occasional manifestation of sus- 
 picious vigilance, he would not in the least 
 degree have fulfilled the idea which most men 
 have of a conspirator — certainly not of a most 
 dangerous conspirator. Good Heavens ! upon 
 what insignificant people the greatest affairs of 
 this world often turn, as upon a pivot. The 
 future destiny of Russia was to be much affected 
 by this man, and even by his proceedings this 
 evening. Changes of dynasty, changes of policy, 
 Crimean wars, and other events stiU more 'im- 
 portant, were trembling in the balance ; and it 
 was for this man, unconsciously, to decide which 
 way the balance should incline. 
 
 It was Lestocq, whose position in the house- 
 hold of Elizabeth and whose part in the 
 projected conspiracy have been abeady de- 
 scribed. 
 
 After many turnings and windings, the Hght- 
 hearted French gentleman found his way to the 
 caf6, and entered it. At the moment he entered, 
 there was one of those curious contests in song^ 
 not uncommon among the Russian peasants and 
 artisans, in which, indeed, men of a higher sta- 
 tion were glad to join, sometimes as listeners, 
 and sometimes even as competitors for the 
 prize. 
 
 At that moment a "peasant was singing a song 
 of a rustic kind, representing the charms of the 
 country, and his own sorrow at the falseness of 
 his Arina. Rendered in prose, it ran thus : — 
 
 None of this noise, and turmoil and hurry: none ! 
 
 No darkness of tall streets, and tumult of waggons : none !. 
 
 But peace on the hills, and peace in the valleys. 
 
126 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Peace by the sunny stream that silently glides on ; 
 In the isba* is rest too, the bees round it humming. 
 
 Sweeter than all ig the mid-day sleep in the forest, 
 By my side Arina watching ; 
 I awake, and find my Arina. 
 
 Broad are the heavens there, and the sky is wide open, 
 But not broad enough for the sorrow of men to be lost in. 
 Hearts are sad by Lena the stUl, as in Moscow the 
 noiseful. 
 
 My tears flow with the river. 
 
 My sighs are borne upon the breeze ; 
 
 No bird so sorrowfully sings 
 
 As with me to partake of my sorrow. 
 
 Sadder than all is the mid-day sleep in the forest. 
 The false one no more by me watching ; 
 I awake, but Arina is not there. 
 
 No, no, never more. 
 
 Never more, Arina. 
 
 After the song had ended, there was a sound 
 of applause ; and while it was being decided who 
 should be the next singer, and suggestions were 
 being made from all parts of the room as to 
 what he should sing, Lestocq took aside a 
 gloomy-looking man, dressed as a corporal of 
 the Preobraskenski regiment, and conversed 
 earnestly with him. This was Grunstein, 
 
 Snatches of the conversation might have been 
 heard. For instance, Lestocq spoke frequently 
 of a certain high festival of the Eussians, called 
 the Consecration of the Waters of the Neva, 
 which was to occur in about a month's time. 
 
 ''Too late, too late," muttered the gloomy 
 Grunstein. " We are ready if you are. Why 
 this delay ? " 
 
 The replies of Lestocq, which were uttered in 
 
 * liba, a cottage. 
 
AT THE PREOBRASKENSKI CAFE. 127 
 
 a soothing tone, seemed to point out that some 
 woman's irresolution was the cause of the delay j 
 and the gay Frenchman broke out in a louder 
 tone into a general invective against women, 
 which was overheard, and was laughingly as- 
 sented to by many male voices, for there were 
 very few women present. 
 
 Then began the song of the next singer, a 
 humble lay, but sung with great feehng. It be- 
 gan thus : — 
 
 Far oflf in the forest rose the wreaths of smoke, 
 While sweetly a voice the glad echoes awoke ; 
 'Twas Netka sitting by the flames so bright, 
 Her dark hair glowed in the yellow light ; 
 And ever as she sang. 
 The woods around her rang ; 
 And from the trees above. 
 The' nightingale and dove 
 Now listened as entranced, 
 And now the melody enhanced, 
 For the song was love, love, love. 
 
 After the song had ended, there was again a 
 pause, while a new rival was sought for to the 
 two preceding contenders for the prize. 
 
 During the interval several privates of the 
 Preobraskenski regiment (this cafe was a favourite 
 haunt of theirs) gathered round Lestocq and 
 Grunsteinj and there was much gesticulation, 
 and much dissatisfaction expressed by these 
 soldiers, which, evidently, Lestocq and Grunstein 
 sought to aUay. Then came a song sung by one 
 who seemed to be of a better station than that 
 of the preceding singers. The words of the song 
 appeared to be such as would have been more 
 suitable to a more refined audience. This was 
 the first stanza. 
 
128 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Whate'er in life that's beautiful I see, 
 Heroic deed, or noble word. 
 The triumph of the pen or sword, 
 I think of thee. 
 
 These are but images to me, 
 
 Full of thy beauteous memory. 
 
 This song was vociferously applauded ; and it 
 was evident, that if the audience had then had to 
 adjudge the prize, this singer would have gained 
 it. He, however, while there was much noisy- 
 dispute as to who should be the next singer, 
 stole away, and was probably afterwards never 
 recognized as the great siuger who became the 
 first tenor at the opera, and was eventually cele- 
 brated not only in Russia, but throughout 
 Europe. He had come, from a strange fancy to 
 see whether he could sway that audience, before 
 he made his Aebut at the Opera; and he went 
 away very well satisfied with his success. 
 
 It was generally felt by the company, that the 
 soldiers should now do something to distinguish 
 themselves, and should not merely be listeners. 
 
 To say the truth, the artisans and peasants 
 thought that they should have an easy victory, 
 for it was two of their especial favourites who 
 had hitherto come forward, and it was now 
 noticed that the third singer had left the 
 room. 
 
 After some whispering amongst the soldiers, a 
 young man of the regiment was made to come 
 forward, not without some reluctance on his 
 part. It might have been noticed, that both 
 Lestocq and Grunstein were much averse to any 
 song being sung by a soldier; but they were 
 not able to control the wishes of the other men 
 of the Preobraskenski regiment and of the 
 general company. • 
 
AT THE PREOBRASKENSKI CAFE. 129 
 
 The song whicli the young soldier sang, was. 
 rather a vague affair, enumerating at some 
 length the various merits and graces of the 
 Princess Elizabeth. The military poet who' 
 composed it, hadnot confined his genius within 
 narrow bounds. The burden of it, however, 
 was sufficiently inspiritnig, and, certainly very 
 distinct and outspoken. 
 
 Petrovna, our darling, the friend of the brave, 
 The foe of all those who would Russia enslave ; 
 To thee our hopes have fled, 
 For thee our blood we'U shed, 
 Thy enemies, we'U strike them dead, 
 Petrovna, our darling, the friend of the brave ! 
 
 It is not surprising that Lestocq and Grunstein 
 should have endeavoured to prevent the singing 
 of this song, which went so far to disclose their 
 wishes and their purposes. It was amusing, 
 however, to note the different characters of the 
 two men. Grunstein maintained a moody silence, 
 looking more morose than ever, whereas the 
 genial Frenchman could only maintain his re- 
 ticence during the refrain of the first verse, but 
 joined in it most heartily and loudly when it 
 came to be sung in chorus the second time. 
 
 After a little more of whispered conference 
 between the two principal conspirators, Lestocq 
 took his departure from the cafe ; and when 
 again in the frosty air, might still be heard 
 humming, in lower tones, the refraia : 
 
 " To thee our hopes have fled, 
 " For thee our blood we'll shed, 
 " Thy enemies, we'U strike them dead, 
 " Petrovna, our darUng, the friend of the brave ! " 
 
 The only prudence shown by this most jovial 
 of conspirators was, that he made an immense 
 
30 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 circuit, going up and down various streets need- 
 lessly, as if lie had lost his way, before he 
 ventured to enter, by a little gate at the river- 
 side, the palace of his mistress, the Princess 
 Elizabeth. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 IVAU'S CONDITION ON HIS EETUEN TO ST. PETERS- 
 BUEG — THE GYPSIES IVAN MEETS AZEA. 
 
 In the meanwhile, was there no person be- 
 sides the government spies, their ministerial em- 
 ployers, and the foreign ambassadors hostile to 
 Prance, who was well aware of this conspiracy, 
 and most anxious to thwart it ? To answer this 
 question, it is necessary to revert to the eventful 
 story of the life of Ivan de Biron. 
 
 A miserable creature is an animal that has lost 
 its master and its way, and is wandering about 
 the streets of a great town, exhausting itself by 
 fruitless eflforts to discover whom and what it 
 has lost. Another deplorable being, is one, who, 
 in a strange land, is friendless, and does not 
 know the language. There was a man in such a 
 position, a clever self-reliant man when at home, 
 who sat down upon the steps of a cathedral and 
 fairly wept. For, as he told his friends when he 
 got home, he felt like a wild beast. But neither 
 of these sad conditions is much more, if at 
 
 K 2 
 
132 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 all more, wretched than that of a man, who, 
 returning from exile, finds that all his former 
 friends hare partaken his fate, and that all 
 his acquaintances shun him as being still 
 " suspect." 
 
 Tlus last condition was that of Ivan, on his 
 return from Siberia. The members of the Biron 
 family, and the principail adherents of the, 
 banished Duke of Courland, were still in exile, ' 
 or were imprisoned in the Imperial fortresses. 
 To whatever house Ivan directed his steps, he 
 found strange faces at the door, and. learnt 
 that the former occupants were bereft of 
 home, and fortune. Common acquaintances 
 endeavoured to avoid recognizing him; and, 
 when obliged to do so, passed quickly by on 
 the other side. 
 
 A small sum of money had been given him 
 immediately upon his being brought back by his 
 escort to St. Petersburg ; but no further notice 
 was taken of him by the government, and he 
 was left to find his own living as best he 
 might. 
 
 It was in a most disconsolate mood, that Ivan 
 roamed about the streets of that city; or, as 
 sometimes happened, stayed all day long in his 
 miserable lodgings, cowering over his stove, and 
 thinking, what must be the end for him, when 
 his smaU resources should be exhausted. Em- 
 ployment of any kind he could not obtain. His 
 woe-begone appearance went much against him, 
 especially as he could give no satisfactory ac- 
 count of his antecedents, and had a very lame 
 story to tell, when asked about his former 
 employment, and his former master. Once 
 trusting to the good-natured face of an em- 
 ployer, Ivan had told the true story "of his former 
 
IVAAi MEETS AZRA. 133 
 
 life. It was to a printer, who was sometimes 
 employed by government. This man's good- 
 nature vanished instantly. He absolutely 
 shuddered with affright, and bade Ivan quit the 
 place directly. " A Biron indeed ! I wonder at 
 his audacity. I hope that nobody saw him 
 enter." Ivan, for several days, was too much 
 disheartened to make any further effort of this 
 kind. Starvation came nearer and nearer to 
 him. 
 
 One evening, not long after his interview with 
 the master-printer, Ivan, still wandering, aim- 
 lessly, about the streets, was attracted by the 
 sound of music, and entered the cafe before 
 described as the favourite haunt of the Preo- 
 braskenski regiment. It was that very evening 
 when Lestocq visited the caf6 ; and Ivan was a 
 witness of all the strange proceedings that went 
 on during that night. These proceedings could 
 not fail to make much impression upon one, who 
 had been employed as the Duke of Courland's 
 private secretary, who had been versed in un- 
 ravelling conspiracies, and whp had been accus- 
 tomed daily to receive the reports of Biron's 
 secret police. 
 
 From the cafe, Ivan went -into the streets. He 
 did not care to go home early. His lodgings, 
 indeed, were little of a home for him ; and he 
 passed more and more of his time as the vagabonds 
 in great towns pass theirs. He began to be nearly 
 as well-informed as they are, of the nooks of 
 shelter which are so serviceable to them; and, 
 when taking refuge with other vagabonds from 
 a sudden snow-storm, under the portico of some 
 palace which in former days, he had, perhaps, 
 entered as a guest, he would say to himself with 
 bitter irony : " Benevolent beings, these nobles ! 
 
134 JVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 they doubtless built these porticoes for us/' His 
 young blood resisted the fearful coldness of that 
 season; ani, indeed, there was a fever in his 
 veins — a fever bred of ruined hopes, of hopeless 
 love, of disappointed ambition — which made him 
 almost insensible to external influences. 
 
 There was a great party that night at the 
 Winter Palace ; and, in an open space between 
 the palace and the Neva, there was a small crowd 
 of people watching the arrival of the sledges. 
 However cold it may be, there will be women of 
 the lower classes anxious to see how women of 
 the higher classes are dressed. The gypsies, 
 from whom no festivities could be concealed, 
 were in this open space ; and it happened that 
 they were the same band of gypsies which had 
 given to the disguised Duke of Courland that in- 
 formation by their significant songs, which, if it 
 had added to the wariness, as it did to the 
 despondency of the Duke, would have preserved 
 him from his downfall. 
 
 The beautiful Azra recognized Ivan; and the 
 girl's heart was full of pity for him. 
 
 It must be recollected that, as said before, no 
 persons of that time were better acquainted with 
 political events, both those which had happened, 
 and those which were likely to happen, as these 
 bands of fortune-telling gypsies. They were a 
 kind of police, acting for themselves, desirous of 
 information solely that they might impose upon 
 their dupes ; and their intelligence, gained with- 
 out any party prejudice, for they were strangers 
 in the land, and despised equally all parties in 
 the State, was often more trustworthy than the 
 reports which were made to the authorities by 
 hirelings. 
 
 It would have greatly shocked Lestocq and the 
 
IVAN MEETS AZRA. 135 
 
 astute French amtassador. La Chetardie, if they 
 could have known that they were hardly more 
 cognizant of all the details of their projected 
 conspiracy, than were these almost outlaws, the 
 gypsies. It might have rendered the Princess 
 BUzabeth less inclined to waver in her decision, 
 if she, too, had been made aware of this 
 fact. 
 
 It may appear surprising, that the knowledge, 
 possessed by such persons, should not have been 
 made more direct use of by them for their own 
 purposes. But these outlawed beings had the 
 greatest aversion to connecting themselves in 
 any way with any transaction which might bring 
 thebi within the clutches of the law. They had 
 uniformly found that whenever they had con- 
 cerned themselves with such transactions, their 
 part in them had been to suffer from the knout 
 and the rack ; / and that no gratitude had been 
 displayed in retiu-n for any information they had 
 given. They were an empire within an empire ; 
 and, as a general rule, their fealty to their own 
 chiefs prevented any of the minor persons taking 
 independent action. 
 
 On this evening the gypsies sang many of 
 their favourite songs — songs adapted to the class 
 of persons by whom they were surrounded. The 
 usual business of fortune^telling went on ; and 
 Azra, as before, being a general favourite with 
 the lower orders at St. Petersburg, was sent out 
 of the gypsy circle by the chief, to take a pro- 
 minent part in the proceedings. 
 
 She, without any direction from the chief, 
 singled out Ivan, and sought to be allowed to 
 tell him his fortune. The youth, influenced by 
 the idleness of the moment, and also being curious 
 to see whether the girl would repeat the story of 
 
136 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 his future fortunes in the same words wMch she 
 had used on the former occasion, crossed her 
 palm with one of the few coins still left to him ; 
 and was prepared to listen, not without a certain 
 anxiety, for Ivan was not free from the supersti- 
 tions of his time and his nation, to what she would 
 teU him. He thought to himself " what can she 
 invent to mitigate the fortunes of such an outcast 
 wretch as I am ? She will not remember me." 
 
 Now Azra did not know who Ivan was, but 
 she did remember him, and she recollected that 
 he had been in the company of the Duke of 
 Courland on that eventful day when they had 
 sought to give his Highness a warning, of his 
 coming fate. It surprised her much to find that 
 Ivan was still in the land of the living, or, at 
 least, that he was not partaking the exile to which 
 she and all her tribe knew well that the Duke of 
 Courland had been condemned. She had often 
 found herself thinking, with pity, of this young 
 man, wondering what his fate had been, and how 
 he had borne it. She augured favourably, to 
 some extent, of the young man's fortunes, from 
 the fact of his being at St. Petersburg ; but, at 
 the same time, with the quick apprehensiveness 
 of her race, she noted the signs of depression, 
 almost of despair, which were clearly visible in 
 his countenance. Moreover, the general air of 
 poverty and neglect, which his dress and personal 
 appearance manifested, were not lost upon her. 
 
 She began by telling him the usual story, the 
 one familiar to the skilled tellers of fortunes ; and 
 in substance, though not in words, it was very 
 nearly the same that she had told before. Then 
 in figurative language, she said that the sky was 
 darkened with black clouds, and that it almost 
 touched the earth — his earth ; and that there 
 
IVAN MEETS AZRA. 137 
 
 was no room for the light of love and joy between 
 the black clouds and one whom they thus over- 
 shadowed. Stillj she maintained^ that, though 
 there was much adversity in the present moment, 
 and the line of trouble had become much 
 stronger, all hindrances would in the end be 
 overcome ; that he would be a great man (here 
 she paused for some moments) ; and that, when 
 hfe was this great man, he would never think 
 more of the poor gypsy girl who now held his 
 hand in hers, and commanded the stars for him. 
 " But," she said, " if you would assure that for- 
 tune, you must meet me to-morrow morning, on 
 the bridge near St. Isaac's Church, at six o'clock. 
 I will tell you something, it may be only a dream, 
 which will give you back friends and fortune, and 
 love, and everything. You wiU come ? " His 
 eyes said, "Yes." Thereupon she withdrew 
 hastily into the circle ; and the gypsies sang 
 that choral song, which was a never-failing 
 favourite with the people of Eussia, the burden 
 of which runs thus : — 
 
 Laugh who that may, 
 
 Play, let him play. 
 
 Drink, drink away; 
 
 For to-morrow. 
 
 May come sorrow; 
 
 Then lose not, and fret not, 
 
 The joys of to-day. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 AZEi's LOVE. 
 
 Ivan shared the prejudices of those 
 amongst whom he had been brought up ; and he 
 looked upon the gypsies as a hostile race, specially 
 inimical to all persons who had settled pursuits 
 in his adopted country. But there was 
 something in the young gypsy's earnestness 
 which had deeply affected him; and, besides, 
 he said to himself, "I am a vagabond now, 
 and must not scorn fellowship with other vaga- 
 bonds." 
 
 On the ensuing morning, he was the first to 
 make his appearance on the bridge, which had 
 been the appointed place of interview. 
 
 Love at first sight is not a thing unknown in 
 any country or in any class. It is not; betraying, 
 unkindly, the sentiments of Azra, to admit that 
 during a sleepless, watchful night, she had felt 
 somewhat of a strange and unaccustomed feeling, 
 which, if not first love, might at least be called 
 first liking, for the young man whose manifest 
 
AZRA'S LOVE. 139 
 
 depression had, at the outsetj only excited her 
 pity. She would have given much, had much 
 been in her power to give, that that part of her 
 fortune-telling, should not have been true, which 
 made Ivan already in love with another girl. 
 " I am sure," she said to herself, " she is very 
 unkind to him, or he would not look so miserable. 
 I hate her. Still, I will give him that intelligence 
 which may ensure his welfare.^' 
 
 The poor girl even pictured to herself, how she 
 would join with the others in singing the bride- 
 song under his window, when, he should marry 
 the young Russian lady whom she feared he was 
 in love with, but still had some hope that counter- 
 acted that fear. 
 
 Ivan had not been three minutes on the bridge, 
 before Azra made her appearance. The clock of 
 a neighbouring church had just struck six ; and 
 not a human being was visible, either in the 
 precincts of the church, or in the adjacent square 
 of the Admiralty, but this young man and this 
 young maiden. The magnificent church of St. 
 Isaac's and the long buildings of the Admiralty, 
 came forth distinctly to view. The golden dome 
 of the one, and the golden spire of the other, 
 rose up against the blue vault of heaven, and 
 shone with brilliancy ; for, early as it was, the 
 moonlight, reflected from the clear sky above and 
 from the bright snowy plains below, equalled the 
 hazy beams of the risen sun as seen at mid-day in 
 the cities of other northern climes we know of. 
 
 After the first greetiag, Azra said timidly, 
 " Was it all true then that I told you ? " 
 
 "How can I tell, my dear?" Ivan repHed. 
 " It is not for me to fpresee the future, but for 
 you." 
 
 " Ah ! But about the past ? " 
 
140 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " I cannot say that it was altogether untrue." 
 
 The gypsy girl shudderedj but in a moment 
 excused herself^ saying, " We come from the Bast 
 you know, from warmer, truer suns ; and your 
 northern air bites us strangers more spitefully 
 than it does you." 
 
 Then she left him, and walked up and down by 
 the frozen river-side, looking at the ice-bound 
 Neva wistfully, as if it knew the secrets of men's 
 and women's hearts, and might, if not controlled, 
 betray hers. 
 
 This poor girl felt something now, which, here- 
 tofore, had been totally foreign to her. The 
 young men of her tribe had sought her love in 
 their rude way; but she had repelled their 
 advances with a feehng alike of disgust and 
 apprehension. Marriage, as seen among the 
 elders of her tribe, had not presented itself to 
 her in a very favourable light. In a word, she 
 had not hitherto known what love was. In a 
 moment she had felt it, or something very like it, 
 for this stranger ; and those depths of affection, 
 which are covered over by a thin crust in every 
 woman's soul, were disclosed. And she looked 
 down iuto them, as it were ; and knew, with the 
 quick perception of that Orient race, that she 
 loved this youth ; and that, as she then thought, 
 life for her without him would be desolation. 
 
 One question more, returning to the bridge, 
 she asked ; and it was a bold one : " Does she 
 love you ? " 
 
 Not even when sharply taken to task by his 
 imperious master, not in the whole course of his 
 official life, had Ivan ever felt that so difficult a 
 question had been put to him. 
 
 Azra looked up into his face, as if she expected 
 a plain and direct answer to this simple question ; 
 
AZRA'S LOVE. 141 
 
 and, though he saw an expression in her eyes, 
 which almost forbade him from answering the 
 question truthfully, and though it is a bold thing 
 to delare that any woman loves you, he did 
 muster up courage to answer trilthfully, and to 
 say, " I think she does : I do believe she does." 
 
 The eyes of Azra sank beneath his gaze ; and, 
 after a moment, she left him again, and walked 
 two or three times up and down by the banks of 
 the Neva. 
 
 What great resolves are rapidly taken by us 
 much-suffering mortals ! All that the greatest 
 thinker of our times has said about " renuncia- 
 tion," and , about its being the greatest feat of 
 which human nature is capable, was imaged forth, 
 and illustrated by the thoughts which then passed 
 through the iunocent mind of that gypsy girl. We 
 may live with the coarsest surroundings, as this 
 poor child had done; but the great trials, the 
 great conflicts of human existence, lie before the 
 humblest and the poorest, as well as before the 
 most self-sufficing and the grandest of the human 
 race. 
 
 The gypsy girl looked upwards, as if to derive 
 some guidance from those stars, which she 
 believed concerned themselves so much with 
 human affairs, even with such poor affairs as her 
 own. Her gaze was not a prolonged one ; and a 
 few minutes only had passed, before she had come 
 to the determination to make one of those sacri- 
 fices of self, which great poets celebrate in their 
 finest verses, but which theself-sacrificers mostly 
 conceal in their own breasts, thus completing the 
 sacrifice by silence. She had resolved, at her 
 own great peril, to give him fully that intelligence 
 which yesterday she had only intended to hint at, 
 and which would make his fortune at the Russian 
 
142 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Court, and give to his arms that other girl 
 whom she, her rival, wotild not, and could not 
 believe would ever love him as she did. 
 
 The enormous danger which she ran from 
 divulging, without the permission of her chief, 
 any of the secrets possessed by her tribe, did not 
 weigh much with her, so thoroughly had all- 
 powerful love conquered selfish fear. The trial 
 for her had been when she thought that the 
 young man's fortune thus assured, would also 
 ensure the triumph of his love — ^for another. 
 
 Again she approached Ivan, and, after looking 
 cautiously around, she conveyed to him in a few 
 whispered sentences the information, already 
 known to our readers, of the conspiracy that was 
 already so far advanced towards its final issue. 
 
 Ivan, at first, affected not to believe her story. 
 She reminded him of the truthfulness and the 
 deep meaning of those hints which their tribe 
 had darkly given to his companion, the Duke of 
 Courland, on the first occasion of their meeting. 
 
 She also added such further details, that Ivan 
 could no longer affect to doubt the truth of her 
 intelligence. And it was finally agreed between 
 them, that she should keep him weU-informed of 
 aU that was going on, and, for that purpose, 
 should meet him on the foUowing day at the 
 same hour, and at the same place. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 IVAS'S' PROJECTS. 
 
 This chapter must begin witli the correc- 
 tion of a statement that was made in a preceding 
 one. It was stated that Ivan had been present at 
 the Preobraskenski Cafe on the same evening that 
 Lestocq was there. Further consideration shows 
 that this could hardly have been the case. . Ivan 
 was at the cafe more than oncej but a com- 
 parison of the dates would almost prove that he 
 could not have been there on that special 
 occasion, for he had several interviews with 
 Azra after the first one, and these must have 
 occurred some days before Lestocq's visit to the 
 cafe. At any rate Ivan's suspicions could not 
 have been first aroused by what he saw and 
 heard at that cafe. 
 
 The perplexity into which Ivan's mind was 
 thrown by Azra's intelligence, was extreme. 
 What course should he take? Which cause 
 should he adopt? He had no longer the 
 slightest doubt of the existence of the plot ; and 
 
144 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 thafcj one way or other, it would come to a final 
 issue in a few -days^ time. Already skilled, far 
 beyond what might have been expected from 
 his youthfulness, in the tortuous ways of Eussian 
 policy and Russian conspiracy, he clearly fore- 
 saw that either the Duchess Regent, or the 
 Princess Elizabeth, would be forced into imme- 
 diate action. To which side should he incline ? 
 On the one hand he knew, perhaps better than 
 any other man in St. Petersburg, that the rela- 
 tions between the Duke of Oourland and the 
 Princess Elizabeth had always been of an 
 amicable character. Powerful as the Duke's 
 influence had been with the late Empress, it had 
 not been potent enough to guide her entirely as 
 to her conduct towards the other members of 
 the Imperial family. Had it been otherwise, it . 
 is by no means improbable that the Princess 
 Elizabeth would, at an early period, have been 
 chosen by the Empress as her successor to the 
 throne, — at a period earlier at least than that 
 when the Czarina began to show favour to the 
 House of Brunswick. 
 
 If, therefore, Ivan should make up his mind to 
 betray the plot to the Duchess Regent, he might 
 be greatly injuring the Duke of Courland's in- 
 terests, and indeed preventing his recall. How- 
 ever much Ivan may have feared his master in 
 former days, and however little he may have 
 trusted the Duke's graciousness, when he was 
 gracious to his private secretary, Ivan thought 
 it would be a sin to be untrue to his master in 
 the days of his adversity. 
 
 What effect either course might have upon 
 the fortunes of the Princess Marie's family, 
 he could not determine in his mind. But 
 upon the whole he thought that any change 
 
IVAN'S PROJECTS. 145 
 
 in the ruling powers could not be unfavourable 
 to them. 
 
 On the other hand, gratitude impelled him 
 strongly to take the side of the Duchess Regent, 
 to whose especial kindness he thought he owed 
 his own return from exile. 
 
 It is very seldom that any human being, when 
 placed in difficult circumstances, is driven by 
 one single simple motive to adopt a definite 
 course of action. Without in the least de- 
 tracting from the influence which a feeling of 
 gratitude excited in the mind of this young 
 man, he perhaps might have remained inactive, 
 but Tor the following consideration. He began 
 to think, as some observers at the time thought,, 
 and as many historians since have thought, 
 until they came to the catastrophe, that a plot 
 so weakly contrived, must fail. 
 
 " And then," said Ivan to himself, " if I take 
 that side, I shall have gained no advantage for 
 the Duke of Courland or for my loved friends in 
 Siberia. The thing wiU fail. I feel almost sure 
 that it will. Did I feel otherwise, I could 
 hardly resolve upon action. A plot known to 
 the gypsies ; talked over, for so I can see it is, 
 by those common soldiers at the cafe, when 
 half drunk ; a plot constructed by that gab- 
 bling Frenchman, Lestocq ! — Count Ostermann 
 must be strangely altered if he fail to find it 
 out. I must be quick, whatever I decide to 
 do." 
 
 As he thus reasoned with himself, he arrived 
 at a final result. It was nightfall then ; but he 
 resolved to go next morning to the Winter 
 Palace, and to seek an audience with th& 
 Duchess Regent. 
 
BOOK III. 
 CHAPTEE YI. 
 
 MAVRA SCHEPELOP AND HEK MISTEESS. 
 
 The chief conspirator, Lestocq, now comes 
 again upon tlie scene. When last mentioned, 
 ho had just returned from his visit to the caf6, 
 and had entered the palace of the Princess 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 In a richly-furnished room of that palace, 
 there sat two ladies. One was a taU and 
 beautiful young woman, with somewhat severe 
 features, of what is called a classical type. She 
 was Mavra Schepelof, the first lady-in-waiting 
 to the Princess Elizabeth, and was greatly be- 
 loved by her. The other was the Princess 
 Elizabeth herself. This royal lady is well worth 
 describing, being a person who played a large 
 part in the world's history. She was eminently 
 handsome, having much of the beauty of her 
 Empress-Mother Catharine, the wife of Peter 
 the Great. Good humour, voluptuousness, wit 
 and intellectual ability, were all depicted in her 
 countenance. It was, however, more marked and 
 
SCHEPELOF AND HER MISTRESS. 147 
 
 impressive than quite beseems what is most beau- 
 tiful in woman. Her dress was very remarkable. 
 She was enveloped in a kind of cloak, trimmed 
 with lace, as well as with the richest furs. 
 Had it not been for the lace, you might almost 
 have supposed it to be a man's cloak ; and cer- 
 tainly, whenever the cloak was a little thrown 
 ■aside by any gesture more animated than 
 usual, a mode of attire appeared beneath, 
 which was, in all respects, decidedly-masculine. 
 She wore a sort of tunic which well became 
 the outlines of a form which was graceful, 
 though it must be allowed to have been of rather 
 too ample a development. 
 
 That very day the English ambassador, in 
 writing home to his government, had informed 
 them, that the power of the Duchess Regent was 
 becoming more and more secure. Indeed, he 
 said, there was but little to fear from the 
 Princess Bli^iabeth, for she was too stout to be a 
 conspirator ; and the ambassador confirmed his 
 opinion by quoting Shakespeare, who also had 
 pronounced that there was little danger to be 
 apprehended from the machinations of fat 
 people. 
 
 It may be remarked how much these am- 
 bassadors indulge in quotations from Shake- 
 speare — thereby a little contradicting the popular 
 theory, that Addison re-introduced Shakespeare 
 to the English reading world. This ambas- 
 sador — a man of Addison's own age — ^was 
 not likely to have been influenced in his 
 early studies by anything that Addison ever 
 wrote. 
 
 His Excellency would have been delighted to 
 have overheard the conversation which ensued 
 between these tw© ladies ; and the despatch whicl 
 
 l2 
 
148 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 he would afterwards have written, would have 
 contained still more convincing proofs of the 
 permanence of the existing government in 
 Eussia. 
 
 The conversation of the two ladies had 
 hitherto turned upon somewhat frivolous sub- 
 jects, such as the dress of the Duchess Regent, 
 of her favourite, Juliana d& Mengden, and the 
 presents which had lately been given, in the 
 name of the infant Emperor, to the Princess 
 Elizabeth on her birthday. This talk was in- 
 terrupted by a knock at the door, when a page 
 entered and said that Monsieur Lestocq desired 
 to have the honour of an audience with her 
 Highness. 
 
 " Let him wait,'^ said the Princess ; with 
 which message the page retired. 
 
 " Do not look so vexed, dear Mavra. I know 
 what the man has come to say. He has said 
 it a hundred times before, as you well know ; 
 and I have made the same reply a hundred 
 times." 
 
 "Is your Highness then prepared to marry 
 that hump-backed fright, the Duchess's brother- 
 in-law ? " 
 
 "No, dear Mavra, I decline to marry any 
 man, whether he be as frightful as some 
 of my ancestors must have been, if they 
 have not been beUed by the Court painters 
 (and that I hardly think is likely), or as 
 beautiful as that Apollo in the corridor. No 
 man shall have it in his power to tyrannize 
 over me." 
 
 "Does your Highness mean to endure the 
 slights that are put upon you from day to day by 
 these upstarts — you, the real heiress of Russia ? 
 Do you mean to let all State affairs go on with- 
 out your having any voice in them ? " 
 
SCHEPELOF AND HER MISTRESS. 149 
 
 "Mavra, my dear, you should have been the 
 Princess ; and I should have been the first lady- 
 in-waiting. What an Empress, by the way, 
 you would have made ! A good face, too, for 
 a coin ! Here, now, there is some dignity of 
 form and feature." 
 
 "Your Highness is pleased to mock me." 
 
 " No, my child, I am not mocking you." 
 
 "And what a good change it would have 
 been for me — what a lady-in-waitiug I should 
 have made ! So good humoured, so placable, so 
 easily to be managed by any other woman. Now, 
 Mavra, confess : have I not a better temper than 
 any of you ? I should make the Princess of 
 Ladies-in-waiting. I never pout when I am 
 ordered to do anything that is disagreeable — 
 except just a little when I have to go to Court, 
 and play the hypocrite to that stupid woman, 
 and her still more stupid favourite, and to 
 admire, with becoming- reverence, that Imperial 
 Infant, 'the sweetest and most intelligent little 
 creature that ever breathed.' " 
 
 Here the Princess burst into a hearty mascu- 
 line kind of laugh, in which her companion did 
 not join. 
 
 " And so it won't laugh, won't it ? Its head 
 is full of State affairs. State affairs ! Mavra, 
 I wUl tell you a great secret. These State 
 affairs that men talk about are the greatest farce 
 in the world. If men only cared to talk to me 
 about State affairs, I should not care to listen 
 to them so readily as my enemies say that I 
 am prone to do. 
 
 " Since my good father's death, the State 
 affairs that seem such grand things to you, have 
 chiefly been, as far as my poor intelligence has 
 discovered, that one great man is sent to Siberia 
 
150 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 with a round following of his henchmen, and 
 another great man, with his slaves and flatterers, 
 comes up and takes the vacant place. These 
 are great State affairs. But I have forgotten — 
 there are the coats. These garments play a 
 large part in State affairs. Stars and crosses 
 are pulled off certain coats, and are put upon 
 others. 
 
 " Believe me, Mavra, there is nothing worth 
 having like a quiet life, with a little love, oc- 
 casionally, to sweeten it. In love there may be 
 variety, else it becomes a dull affair, to my 
 thinking. Don't look so shocked, my dear : your 
 Peodor and you, are to be changeless turtle- 
 doves, I know, and to coo, and coo, and coo, 
 as unrelentingly as those most tiresome of 
 feathered bipeds." 
 
 And this was the woman, speaking at this 
 moment, probably without any disguise, and 
 showing her real character, who aftetwards> 
 though reluctantly, kept a great part of Europe 
 in a state of constant turmoil; and whose ad- 
 ministration of foreign affairs tended largely to 
 increase and consolidate the power of Russia. 
 
 The favourite reminded the Princess that 
 Lestocq was waiting. 
 
 "I will see him now, my dear — this great 
 statesman who wishes to administer his potions 
 to the body politic ; and is ready to do so with 
 as much confidence in his own skill, and as little 
 fear of consequences, as when he plays the part 
 of doctor to our household. We, however, 
 have seldom cared to avail ourselves of his 
 skill." 
 
 " Tour Highness must make mirth out of all 
 of us who have the happiness to attend upon 
 you ; but I would that you would listen to him 
 
SCHEPELOF AND HER MISTRESS. 151 
 
 less or more; for I am sure that you are in. 
 great peril while you hesitate. May I leave 
 you ? " 
 
 The Princess J with a sigh, gave her consent. 
 Mavra Schepelof withdrew ; and shortly after- 
 wards Lestocq entered the apartment. 
 
 It was with a very grave aspect and with 
 much reverence that Lestocq approached the 
 PrincesSj and stood in front of her. 
 
 " My gqod Lestocq," exclaimed the Princess, 
 
 " are any of your patients recovering from their 
 
 medicines, that you come hither with such grave 
 
 , and sour looks, which ill become you ? What 
 
 is it, man ? " 
 
 " All is ready, please your Highness ; and when 
 I have said all is ready, it means that there is 
 not a day to be lost. From readiness to ripe- 
 ness, from ripeness to rottenness, there is but 
 a small interval in these affairs." 
 
 " The simHitude is not savoury, but the 
 aphorism is worthy of the gravity of the Chan- 
 cellor himself. You must have been talking 
 lately with the wise Count Ostermann — the man 
 who is always iU at the right time. Cure him 
 of that, Lestocq, cure the fox of his cunning, 
 if you can." 
 
 "I should know something about him," Le- 
 stocq replied. "I am mostly followed by his 
 spies. But hear me. Princess. Do, for once, 
 hear me, and believe your faithful friend and 
 servant. I have come from the cafe of the 
 soldiers. Your friends there are most impatient. 
 Grunstein declares that it is madness to wait. 
 La Chetardie says so too." 
 
 "France, I know, is deeply interested in the 
 good government of Eussia," said the Princess. 
 
 " Your partisans, madam, in the Preobra- 
 
1 5 2 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 skenski regiment, are devoted to you. But how 
 can you rely for a moment on their prudence ? 
 These common fellows must talk." 
 
 " And some others too, Lestocq." 
 
 "And they have wives and sweethearts.'" 
 
 " Aye : I' warrant me they have," said the 
 Princess. " That is not a point upon which I 
 am doubtful." 
 
 " And the Cuirassiers are ordered to Sweden, 
 I told you, before, that other regiments had been 
 sent." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the Princess, whose coun- 
 tenance suddenly changed, "that is something 
 serious. Next to the Preobraskenskis, they are 
 our best friends. Think you, Lestocq, that that 
 is the reason why they are sent away from St. 
 Petersburg ? " 
 
 " Not a doubt of it : and, madam, is it not a 
 childish fancy (if I may say so), which has 
 fixed upon the ' Consecration of the Waters ' as 
 the day for our attempt, merely because it is a 
 day of festival, which may serve their purposes 
 as well as ours ? I do not see why we should 
 desire to have many people in the streets on 
 our day. That day must be advanced." 
 
 "We will see about it," said the Prin- 
 cess. 
 
 Lestocq shrugged his shoulders in a most 
 emphatic manner, and muttered discontentedly 
 to himself the Princess's words, " We will see 
 about it." 
 
 " I tell you, Lestocq, I like not the thing, I 
 marvel at myself that I have ever let you go so 
 far. It seems a baseness, to be plotting against 
 this child; and, as for the woman herself, she 
 more amuses me than wounds me." Then, after 
 a pause, she said, " To-day I go to Court, Pll 
 
SCHEPELOF AND HER MISTRESS. 153 
 
 mark tliem well. To-morrow, we will speak 
 further on the matter." 
 
 " To-morrow/' repeated Lestooq in a mournful 
 tone. 
 
 ' I would be alone now, Lestocq." So saying 
 she waved her hand gracefully. Lestooq bowed, 
 and withdrew. 
 
 He had hardly quitted the room, before 
 the expression of the Princess's face entirely 
 changed. There was now something in it of 
 the stern look of her father : something, too, 
 of the sorrowful look of her mother in her later 
 years. The Princess threw aside the robe which 
 she had kept closely round her while Lestooq 
 was in the room ; and, with slow step, paced 
 up and down the apartment. 
 
 The English ambassador might well say, as 
 he does in a letter to his Court, that it would 
 be desirable for the British Government to send 
 the Princess the Order of the Garter, as it would 
 certainly have found a fitting wearer, and would 
 seldom have been seen to more advantage. It 
 was not unwise, too, of the shrewd ambassador 
 to have added, that they had also better send a 
 far better-looking and far younger man than he 
 could pretend to be, to represent them at this 
 Court. 
 
 " I like it not," she said ; " the more I thiok 
 of it, the less I like it. I doubt not I could rule 
 a little better than these foolish people ; but ' 
 enough of blood has been shed by our House, 
 and for it. I am not a good woman : at least, 
 according to their empty moralities, I am not 
 such; but I would not have the death of any 
 single human being on my soul. Should I be 
 forced to take this step (and they are all in my 
 power, a word from me condemns them) during 
 
154 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 my reign there shall be no executions. If tame 
 and mieventfulj at any rate it shall be blood- 
 less. Why talk of my reign ? I will not reign. 
 We'll see, though ; we'll see. If they push me 
 to the precipice, it is not Peter's daughter who 
 will be thrust over it, or not alone, not alone. 
 They shall all go with me." 
 
 The Princess continued for some time mut- 
 tering indistinct sentences of a similar kind to 
 those which she had spoken loudly; and then, 
 calling for her tiring women, she prepared to 
 attend the Court on a day which proved very 
 eventful as regards the destinies of Russia. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE yil. 
 
 THE GEAND DtTCHBSS HAS A PEIVATE INTERVIEW 
 WITH THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 
 
 It was a grand day at the Eussian Court ; 
 and the scene, if not looked at too closely, was 
 magnificent ia the extreme. The splendour that 
 the Duke of Courland had introduced, suffered no 
 abatement during the new reign ; and the Court 
 presented a very different appearance from that 
 which the Princess Elizabeth had been accus- 
 tomed to in her early days, during the reign of 
 her rude and boisterous father, Peter the &reat. 
 
 Even now, however, to the eyes of a fastidious 
 Frenchman, and many such were present on 
 this occasion, there was much thkt provoked 
 criticism. There was not anything in all its 
 parts complete. If a man was otherwise well- 
 dressed, that important part of his costume, the 
 wig, was neither what it should have been, nor 
 worn as it should have been. As for the dress 
 of the ladies, the material was often of gold 
 brocade, or of some other rich material ; but, as 
 
156 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Lestocq did not fail to remark to a compatriot, 
 " there was a total absence of fine feeling in the 
 composition. No poetry whatever ! " A colour 
 endurable enough in itself, though rather pro- 
 nounced, was insulted by being placed ia juxta- 
 position with some other bold colour, which 
 could not possibly live on good terms with it. 
 " And then the walk of the women ! Only to be 
 equalled in barbarism by the brutal manner in 
 which the men thump their diamond snuff-boxes, 
 and take snuff like clowns." 
 
 Such were the biting remarks of Lestocq, who 
 almost felt that it was beneath his genius to con- 
 cern himself with the politics of a people vainly 
 endeavouring, as he said to himself, to conceal 
 their native savagery by this awkward splen- 
 dour. " The wolves wear the ermine they have 
 stolen ; but when the creatures move or utter 
 sounds, the wolf in them is not less visible." 
 
 It was the custom at that Court for mem- 
 bers of the Imperial Family to be received at 
 their entrance by a flourish of trumpets. This 
 was not omitted on the present occasion when 
 the Princess Elizabeth entered the Winter Pa- 
 lace; and, indeed, she was received with marked 
 cordiality by the Duchess Eegent and her hus- 
 band, the Grand Duke of Brunswick. 
 
 After the Princess had remained a short time 
 in the circle, the Duchess Regent suddenly made 
 a sign to her ; and they withdrew together from 
 the drawing-room to the Grand Duchess's private 
 apartments. 
 
 It was with very anxious feelings that Lestocq, 
 the French ambassador. La Chetardie, and 
 Woronzkow saw this movement of those two 
 great personages. These men we're the only 
 persons present who were thoroughly aware how 
 
THE DUCHESS AND PRINCESS. 157 
 
 far the Princess had gone in oonspiracyj or at 
 least in allowing conspiracy in her behalf, 
 against the reigning powers. 
 
 The step thus taken by the Grand Duchess, of 
 withdrawing herself and the Princess from the 
 Court circle was a most unusual one ; and, as to 
 a conspu'ator even very slight circumstances are 
 matters of no light concern, such an event at 
 Court as this, was calculated to excite the most 
 serious apprehensions in the minds of the guilty 
 persons present. 
 
 When the two ladies had entered the Duchess 
 Eegent's cabinet, she lost no time in taxing the 
 Princess with her conduct. The Regent told 
 her frankly that, from various quarters, informa- 
 tion had reached her of the Princess's proceed- 
 ings. Lestooq, a member of her household, was 
 in constant communication with the French am- 
 bassador ; and it was well known that those two 
 were carrying on the most dangerous intrigues. 
 Hitherto, she, the Regent, had refused to give 
 any credence to the information she had re- 
 ceived ; but if these treasonable practices con- 
 tinued, Lestocq must be arrested, and means 
 would be taken to tnake him confess the 
 truth. 
 
 The Princess in reply showed a power of dis- 
 sembling which proved that she was weU fitted to 
 take a high position in that political world of 
 dissimulation, in the midst of which she lived. 
 She was innocence itself. Had she ever shown 
 any ambitious desires ? Nothing was further 
 from her thoughts than to do anything which 
 could injure the Duchess Regent, or that dear 
 child, the infant Emperor. She trusted that she 
 had too deep a sense of religion to break the 
 oath of fealty she had taken. As for Lestocq, 
 
rs8 IVAN DE B IRON. 
 
 lie had never entered the French Ambassador's 
 Palace. This statement was true to the letter ; 
 for, as it may be remembered, he had always 
 carefully avoided doing so. However, the 
 Princess added, Lestocq might be arrested if the 
 Regent pleased. What he would confess, if he 
 spoke truly, would only place his mistress's in- 
 nocence in a stronger light. For her part, she 
 knew that she had enemies, and that all these 
 stories against her were told by them, in order 
 to make her life miserable at Court. 
 
 While uttering these protestations she was 
 deeply affected, and shed abundant tears. The 
 good-natured Grand Duchess wept in sympathy ; 
 and the two great ladies returned into the 
 drawing-room : the one believing that she had 
 been listening to the reclamations of an innocent 
 person who hfid been most wrongfully accused, 
 and the other feeling that she had played her 
 part of innocence very well; but that it could 
 not often be played again. Moreover, she had 
 that almost sickening sensation of great fear 
 which comes upon most persons, when, by the 
 merest hazard, or by great skill, a sudden dan- 
 ger has just been avoided by them, at which 
 moment the sense of peril is perhaps the 
 greatest. 
 
BOOK III. 
 €HAPTEE Vin. 
 
 PEOGEESS OF THE CONSPIBACT. 
 
 When the two great ladies returned to 
 the drawing-room, it was with arms inter- 
 linked, and seemingly in very loving converse 
 with each other. It is almost needless to add that 
 the eyes of every courtier were directed, either 
 openly or furtively, to the countenances of the 
 Princess and the Duchess Regent. 
 
 Even false tears leave distiact traces on the 
 countenance; and that composure of mind, 
 which enabled the Princess to command the 
 expression of every feature, did not enable her 
 to remove those teU-tale signs of recent tears, 
 which betrayed the serious and affectrag nature 
 of the interview. 
 
 In a few moments it was thoroughly well 
 known by experienced Russian courtiers, what 
 kind of scene had been enacted. Those among 
 them who had some inkUng of the designs of 
 the, two chief conspirators, Lestocq and La 
 Ch6tardie, quickly turned their eyes from the 
 
i6o IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 countenances of the ladies, to the faces of these 
 two men. They bore the inspection very well. 
 The native gaiety of these two Frenchmen 
 almost baffled, for the moment, the searching 
 inquiries which were directed, not only to their 
 looks, but to their whole demeanour. 
 
 It was a terrible evening for the Princess 
 Elizabeth. Years afterwards she remembered 
 how she had thought that the festivities of that 
 night would never end. At last, however, they 
 did end ; and, after an affectionate parting with 
 the Duchess Eegent, the Princess, accompanied 
 by her suite, returned to her own palace. 
 
 The suite, with one exception, were imme- 
 diately dismissed] and then the Princess, bec- 
 koning Lestocq to accompany her, retired to 
 her private apartments. 
 
 To him the Princess related, without reserve, 
 all that had passed between her and the Duchess 
 Eegent. In the midst of her own terror and 
 perplexity, she could not help being somewhat 
 amused by the much greater terror manifested 
 by Lestocq, especially when the Princess re- 
 lated to him how the Duchess Regent had inti- 
 mated that it might be necessary to arrest 
 Lestocq, and to ascertain that which torture 
 might compel him to confess. 
 
 Lestocq, as might be imagined, was for 
 instant action. He was very bold, intellectually 
 speaking, as a conspirator; but that is by no 
 means inconsistent with his having a very 
 sincere and careful regard for the welfare of 
 his own person. He was a little shocked, too, 
 at finding that the Princess had made no 
 objection whatever to his being arrested, and 
 had, in fact, consented that this arrest should 
 take place. It was in vain that the Princess 
 
FROGRESS OF THE CONSFIRACY. i6i 
 
 pointed out to him tliat any hesitation at that 
 moment would have been absolutely fatal — 
 wouldj in fact, have caused the instant death or 
 banishment to Siberia, of aU persons who were 
 directly, or even remotely, concerned in this 
 conspiracy — a conspiracy which had been so 
 carelessly, and, if we may so express it, sO' 
 disrespectfully conducted, that it might almost 
 have been termed " an open secret. •" 
 
 To all Lestocq^s lamentations and entreaties 
 — entreaties for instant action, that very night — 
 the Princess paid no heed. Her simple reply 
 was, " The good woman is sufficiently imposed 
 upon by the bad woman, so far at any rate that the 
 effect may be expected to last for the next twenty- 
 four hours. Leave me, leave me now," she ex- 
 claimed, " I will not resolve to-night what shall be- 
 done. To-morrow, come early : there shall be no 
 more hesitation after this night. But now, go."' 
 
 Lestocq, though with a very unwilling mind,, 
 left the apartment. 
 
 It was a terrible night that the Princess passed 
 on this occasion. Naturally of an indecisive tem- 
 perament — of an easy-going, indolent, voluptuous 
 disposition — and having only dormant in her the 
 restless energy of that most restless of monarchs,, 
 her Father : — she had, hitherto, only played with 
 this conspiracy. True it is, she had been vexed 
 by the slights which she had met with, or fancied 
 she had met with, at the hands of the new 
 reigning powers. Moreover, it had been a 
 serious grievance to her, that she should have 
 been much pressed to marry the insignificant and 
 deformed brother of the Duchess Regent^s 
 husband. This pressure was the more distasteful 
 to her, as she was not without lovers, whom she- 
 regarded, according at least to the scandal of the 
 
i62 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Court, with exceeding favour. She, however, 
 knew that the people of Eussia would never 
 allow the daughter of Peter the Great to be 
 forced into a marriage which was entirely re- 
 pugnant to her, and which was so obviously 
 meant to secure the interests of a German 
 family, not at all too much loved either by the 
 nobles or the common people of Russia. 
 
 The religious difficulty, however, was the one 
 which weighed most with the Princess, through- 
 out that anxious and sleepless night. She had 
 sworn an oath of fealty to the infant Emperor ; 
 and whatever follies, or whatever severities the 
 Duchess Regent might commit, either against 
 herself, or against those who were devoted to her 
 Imperial Highness, this oath that she had 
 solemnly and deliberately taken, being perfectly 
 aware of how much of her own rights she had 
 given up by taking it, weighed upon her con- 
 science. 
 
 It needs but little knowledge of history, to be 
 convinced of the fact that religion may not relax 
 its hold upon those persons, who seem the most 
 to contradict its tealchings. The Princess, was, 
 doubtless, a most erring woman ; and, with that 
 singular candour of character which she possessed, 
 she was but too well aware that she contradicted 
 some of the ordinary precepts of moraUty. But, 
 she ever held, that in matters of religion, she was 
 a true and faithful servant of the Church. In the 
 breast of such an orthodox and dutiful believer, 
 what excuse could there be for perjury ? More- 
 over, there seemed to her something very mean 
 in conspiriag against a mere child. She was ex- 
 ceedingly fond of children; and, though she 
 ridiculed at times to her dependants the almost 
 ludicrous devotion of the Regent Mother, and of 
 
FJiOGRESS OF THE CONSPIRACY. 163 
 
 the whole Court to the little Ivan, the Princess 
 had been fond of the child, and had been quite 
 contented to abide the time, sixteen years hence, 
 when he would be called to ascend the throne, 
 and take the reins of government into his own 
 hands. The people at present in power, she 
 despised. The very conquest she had made, this 
 evening, over the just fears of the Duchess Eegent, 
 had not diminished her contempt for that good- 
 natured lady ; but, at the same time, had made 
 the Princess feel how inglorious a thing it would 
 be to supplant this good, innocent woman by 
 sheer treason. The Princess imagined that she 
 herself had no especial capacity for governing. 
 How greatly this inadequate knowledge of her 
 own powers would be contradicted, remained to 
 be seen. 
 
 The result was, that the night was passed by 
 her in stating and re-stating every conceivablfe 
 argument that should induce her to decide one 
 way or the other. Should she go at once to the 
 Duchess Eegent ; acknowledge frankly the extent 
 to which the conspiracy had proceeded ; claim 
 pardon for Lestocq, immunity ' for the French 
 ambassador. La Chetardie ; and, then, as it were, 
 disband the conspirators ? This was one course 
 of action to which her thoughts inclined. 
 
 She felt, though, that for such a course to be 
 successful, it was requisite that the other side 
 should be equally generous with herself. It was 
 characteristic of her sagacity, that she said to 
 herself : " Small-minded people never understand 
 large-hearted conduct ; and they will still continue 
 to suspect me, however innocent I may be.'^ 
 
 Finally, she resolved to determine nothing 
 until she should again see, or hear from, those 
 
 m2 
 
i64 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 who were considered to be lier friends in St. 
 Petersburg. 
 
 The Princess was right ia supposing that she 
 had twenty-four hours of safety. She had played 
 her dissembhng part so well that the Duchess 
 Regent was perfectly convinced of her innocence. 
 It was in vain that the Grand Duke endeavoured 
 that very eveniag to persuade his wife to consent 
 to the arrest of Lestocq, and to post additional 
 piquets ia the streets. 
 
 It is clear that the system of placing piquets 
 in the streets, the abolition of which had given 
 so much satisfaction when the Duke of Courland 
 was deposed, had again been introduced, though 
 probably not to so great an extent as in his 
 time. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 lestocq's final inteevibw with the peincess 
 elizabeth. 
 
 The next morning, very early, Lestocq 
 claimed an interview with the Princess. His ,. 
 fears throughout that night, had not by any 
 means diminished. Visions of the knout and the 
 rack had come most painfully before him. He 
 knew fuU well that he was not one of that " noble 
 army of martyrs,'^ whom torture does not compel 
 to betray their secrets, or even the secrets of other 
 people. Indeed, it is very rare that any motive, 
 other than th^rt afforded by the solemn duty of 
 holding to a religious belief, enables any man to 
 endure the torments of skilled torture without 
 renouncing the most cherished convictions, or 
 betraying the most secret knowledge possessed 
 by him. 
 
 At first, the conversation of this morning was 
 very like that of the preceding evening. Le- 
 stocq urged immediate action. The Princess 
 contended against his views. If action were to 
 
i66 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 be taken, why not keep to their original plan, 
 and choose the festival of the " Consecration of 
 the Waters of the Neva " as the day on which 
 the conspiracy should break forth ? 
 
 " Tou say," exclaimed the Princess, " and 
 perhaps it is true^ that I am beloved by the 
 troops : yon say, and I do not deny it, that I am 
 beloved by the people. Then and there we can 
 best learn whether their love for me is such as 
 would, with the consent of all, place me upon the 
 throne of my father." 
 
 As may be seen, the horrible state of indeci- 
 sion in which this great Princess had passed the 
 night, still remained dominant upon her. She 
 well knew that she was surrounded by adven- 
 turers. They risked but their bodies : she felt, 
 devout as she really was, that she risked her 
 soul. As a politician, thoroughly conversant 
 with the intrigues of foreign courts, she knew 
 that it was from no love of her that France,, 
 'through her ambassador, was a most willing party 
 to this conspiracy. Even at this supreme mo- 
 ment of her fortunes, she resolved that if she 
 committed this great treason, it should not, after 
 all, prove so very beneficial to the intrigues of 
 Louis XV. "What do they seek," she ex- 
 claimed, "but to prolong our intestine discord, 
 and to make Eussia powerless, and Prance pre- 
 dominant in the affairs of Europe ? " 
 
 Cardinal Pleury, and his master Louis, would 
 little have liked to see the severe smile which 
 lightened up the face of the Princess, when sh& 
 was thiaking over the part which they so gladly 
 played, and with such lavish expenditure of money, 
 solely to embarrass her dear Russia, to which by 
 so many ties of filial affection, she was entirely 
 devoted. 
 
LESTOCQ AND THE PRINCESS. 167 
 
 Meanwhilej during the time that these 
 thoughts and others, some more worthy, some 
 less worthy of a great mistress of state-craft, 
 were occupying her mind, Lestocq went on talk- 
 ing. He reiterated his own fears, his dread of 
 Ostermann and Botta, who could not be cajoled 
 as the Duchess Regent had heen ; the impatience 
 of the common soldiery, who were devoted to her 
 cause, and whom he had met with at the cafe of 
 the Preobraskenski regiment on the preceding 
 evening. 
 
 Gradually^ during this animated interview, in 
 which, however, Lestocq had taken the principal 
 part, and the answers of the Princess had chiefly 
 been confined to a simple ' Yes ' or ' No ; ' and 
 indeed to which she had sometimes not deigned 
 to make any answer whatever, he had broken 
 through the usual severe forms of Russian 
 etiquette at Court, and had finally taken his seat 
 at the table at which the Princess Elizabeth was 
 sitting. It chanced that on that table lay a 
 large piece of cardboard. The Princess was an 
 artist herself, as well as a great encourager of 
 art ; and this cardboard was probably put out for 
 some drawing that she was to make. It was, 
 however, destined for a" greater purpose than any 
 drawing that any Princess, even one so accbm- 
 plished as Elizabeth of Russia, could design. 
 
 Lestocq, who was an abundant talker, the 
 vainest of men, continued to urge, in various 
 forms of words, the various arguments which 
 have hitherto been stated. At the same time he 
 was very busy with his pencil, for he was an ad- 
 mirable draughtsman. The Princess was some- 
 what amused with the whole proceeding, espe- 
 cially with Lestocq's audacity in seating himself 
 at the same table with her. If she had been 
 
368 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 asked what she thought he was doing, she would 
 most likely have answered that he was caricatur- 
 ing, for she knew his skill and wit in that dan- 
 gerous art, — that he was perhaps depicting the 
 scene at the Russian Court of yesterday, 
 and that she was to appear disfigured by her 
 tears after her interview with the Duchess 
 Regent. 
 
 The conversation languished, and by way of 
 continuing it, she asked him to show her what 
 he had been drawing. The result rather sur- 
 prised her. He had made an admirable Hkeness 
 of herself, clad in the robes of a sovereign of 
 Russia, with a crown upon her head. This 
 drawing occupied one half of one side of the 
 cardboard. On the other, she appeared in the 
 dress of a nun, with a very deplorable counte- 
 nance, rendered very thin by mortification and 
 fasting, and affording a ludicrous contrast to the 
 genial, jovial face, which her Imperial Highness 
 was wont to show to the common soldiers, whom 
 she allowed to get up behind her sledge, and to 
 accompany her through the streets of St. Peters- 
 burg, such favoured individuals being considered 
 by common consent, and without much reproach, 
 to be her favoured lovers. 
 
 On the other side of the cardboard were de- 
 picted Lestocq himself, and other accomplices, 
 enduring the torments of the rack. 
 
 It was surprising to see the effect which these 
 drawings produced upon the Princess Elizabeth. 
 She looked at the cardboard fixedly. She turned 
 it over and over again several times, regarding, 
 with stern contemplation, its rude portraitures, 
 which were not without considerable pictorial 
 merit. Never did any work of any artist, not of 
 a Michael Angelo, a Titian or a Murillo, have 
 
LESTOCQ AND THE PMINCESS. 169 
 
 1 
 
 such direct effect upon tlie destinies of tlie 
 world. 
 
 The Priacess whispered a few words to Le- 
 stocq; but they appeared to be most decisive 
 words, for an expression of gladness pervaded 
 his countenance, and he quitted the room hastily 
 and abruptly. 
 
 Three minutes had not elapsed before the 
 Princess summoned her attendants, and desired 
 that instant search should be made for Lestocq, 
 and that he should be recalled to her presence. 
 But no one could find him. He had left the 
 palace : no one could tell whither he had gone. 
 And thus that final moment of indecision, for 
 indecision it doubtless was, had no effect; and 
 the Princess was irretrievably bound to what- 
 ever course she had decided to take, in the 
 few brief whispers (for conspirators speak in 
 whispers even when they are in their secret 
 chambers and fear no spies,) which she had 
 exchanged with Lestocq, after a fuU and 
 earnest contemplation of those rude drawings 
 which appeared to have excelled in eloquence 
 all speech. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 OTTTBEEAK OF THE EEVOLUTION IVAN S PAET IN 
 
 azea's caee foe rVAN. 
 
 If the Princess Elizabeth, had devoted 
 friends, the Duchess Regent was not friendless. 
 Before Lestocq had quitted the Princess's Palace, 
 Ivan de Biron was endeavouring to make his way 
 into the Duchess Regent's Palace, to warn Her 
 Highness of the coming danger. And he suc- 
 ceeded in doing so. 
 
 It would have been no easy matter for a young 
 man in Ivan's position to obtain an audience 
 with this great lady; but revolutions, however 
 severely carried out, generally leave some servi- 
 tors who, from the length of their service, their 
 fitness for it, and their merely official character, 
 still retain their offices. 
 
 Ivan lingered about the gates of the palace, 
 watching his opportunity, until at last he saw an 
 aged groom of the chambers whom he had known 
 in his palmy days. The man was, at first, by no 
 means inclined to renew the acquaintance; but 
 
OUl^BREAK OF THE REVOLUTION. 171 
 
 when Ivan told him that he had been recalled 
 from exile by the orders of the Duchess Regent, 
 and that he wished to have an opportunity of 
 expressing his gratitude, this groom of the 
 chambers thought it as well to be on good terms 
 with a person who had been so favoured, and 
 he consented to take the message with which 
 Ivan sought to entrust him. 
 
 This request for an audience was, after some 
 delay, brought to the Grand Duchess. So few 
 had been the instances of recall from exile, that 
 her Highness instantly remembered the fact that 
 Ivan had been so recalled, and at whose inter- 
 cession this great favour had been granted. 
 Her favourite, Juliana de Mengden, was with 
 her at this moment : indeed they were seldom 
 apart. 
 
 "We will not see him ourselves,'' said the 
 Duchess Eegent: "it pains us to hear about 
 these poor exiles, few of whom our Ministers 
 will yet allow us to recall. Biron himself is not 
 so bad as he has been painted ; and, perhaps, if 
 we had been wiser, Juliana, we might have kept 
 him as a friend. God knows that there are 
 difficulties enough in governing this people for 
 the wisest and the strongest to master ; and the 
 Duke was both a wise and a strong man. You 
 shall see the youth, Juliana, and hear what he 
 has to. say." 
 
 The favourite obeyed her mistress; and Ivan 
 was ushered into her presence in an adjoining 
 apartment. 
 
 Ivan, after briefly expressing his feelings of 
 gratitude to the Duchess Regent, and his con- 
 sequent devotion to her service, related to 
 Juliana every circumstance which he had learnt 
 regarding the projected conspiracy. The favourite 
 
172 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 was much impressed by what she had heard, 
 and quickly returned to her mistress to relate 
 the story, adding sundry comments of her own, 
 as to the danger of remaining perfectly quiescent. 
 Her Highness, however, took little heed of all 
 that she heard. She was not a woman without 
 some sense, but seemed to be lapped in a fatal 
 state of security, and was resolutely blind to all 
 that was happening around her. 
 
 This, it must be remembered, was the very 
 day after that in which that scene had occurred 
 between the Duchess Regent and the Princess 
 Elizabeth, when the tears and protestations of 
 the Princess had produced so great an effect. 
 
 "My dearest love," said the Duchess, "you 
 are like the rest of them ; this is the same story 
 that Ostermann and the Austrian ambassador, 
 and my poor Duke, too, are perpetually dinning 
 into my ears. Spies must be telling something. 
 What else are they paid for ? They must invent 
 conspiracies, whether there are any, or not. None 
 of you understand the Princess : none of you, but 
 myself. As long, my dear, as she has her lovers 
 to pay court to her, little she cares for anything 
 else. And she is a good creature. Did you see 
 how she fondled our dear little Ivan? She 
 would not hurt a hair of his head for the world. 
 €ro back to the youth : thank him, and tell him 
 that we will try to find a place for him in our 
 household. We have heard much good of him, 
 of his kindness formerly to those whom the 
 Duke, his master, banished. And come back 
 soon. I do not think the pearls should be 
 sewed on to the robe, but should hang in tassels. 
 It will be something new for to-morrow's ball." 
 Thus the demented woman gave her thoughts 
 to the frivolities of dress, at the most critical 
 moment of her Ufe. 
 
OUTBREAK OF THE REVOLUTION. 173 
 
 Ivan was dismissed by Juliana, but at the 
 same time, was warmly thanked by her for the 
 information he had given. She did not tell him 
 how lightly it had been received ; but she added 
 to his feelings of satisfaction, by letting him know 
 the favour which the Duchess intended for him 
 in taking him into her household. 
 
 Ivan hastened to find Azra. Each of them 
 was now acquainted with the ways and habits 
 of the other. He knew in what quarter of the 
 city her tribe of gypsies would be likely to be 
 found at any time of the day. Seeing him, she 
 came out of the circle, apparently to go through 
 the accustomed fortune-telling, but in reality to- 
 inform him that, if any reliance was to be placed 
 in what she had last heard, the outbreak of the 
 conspiracy was fixed for that night, or the next. 
 Their chief was quite certain, of that. They were 
 to be in the streets two hours earlier next 
 morning. There would be crowds in all the 
 public places. She had been at his lodgings to 
 teU him this, but could not find him. 
 
 Ivan longed to go back to the Winter Palace 
 with this additional information ; but he was too 
 well versed in the ways of princes, to imagine 
 that he could, a second time in the same day, 
 be so fortunate as to obtain an audience, even 
 with the favourite. 
 
 He was too much troubled, however, (for, by 
 this time he had come to have implicit con- 
 fidence in all that Azra told him) to take any 
 rest that night. He kept watch iu dark comers 
 near the Winter Palace, and prepared for that 
 action which he now felt certain he would have 
 to take. 
 
 That same evening there was a certain kind of 
 ferment at the barracks of the Preobraskenski 
 
174 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 regiment. This ferment was almost indescrib- 
 able. It was as if a hive of bees had been 
 suddenly disturbed by some intruder. In all 
 directioiis there were small knots of men, who 
 talked together in most earnest tones, and seemed 
 to be preparing for some great enterprise. 
 
 It was a remarkable error in the Russian 
 military system, and a most deplorable one, that 
 it was thfe universal custom for almost all the 
 officers of a regiment to sleep in different quarters 
 from those assigned to the men. 
 
 The Preobraskenski regiment, already looked 
 upon and favoured as household troops — in fact 
 a sort of Praetorian Guard — was, this evening, 
 under the command of one subaltern officer, a 
 Scotchman, named Grows. He did not fail to 
 notice the strange kind of excitement which pre- 
 vailed among the men under his command. It 
 was with some difficulty that, partly by persua- 
 sion, partly by command, he at last induced them 
 to go to bed ; and it was, with a presentiment of 
 coming evil, that he himself lay down to rest. 
 
 At twelve o'clock, however, all was supremely 
 quiet, both in those barracks, and throughout the 
 capital. The Russians of that day, as indeed all 
 the nations of Europe, kept very different hours 
 from those adopted in more modern times. At 
 the hour of midnight there was scarcely a sohtary 
 human being to be seen moving through the 
 snow-covered streets of St. Petersburg. Mid- 
 night revels were rare in that city. 
 
 It was then that the Princess Elizabeth, accom- 
 panied only by Lestocq and by her chamberlain 
 Woronzkow, rode forth to commence her audacious 
 undertaking. At last that vacillating and irre- 
 solute mind had come to a fixed resolve; and, 
 henceforth, there was no alternative but the one 
 
O UTBREAK OF THE RE VOL UTION. 1 7 5 
 
 depicted by Lestocq. The choice was between a 
 convent or a throne ; or, perhaps, it might more 
 truly be said, between that fair head being sur- 
 mounted by a crown, or being laid upon a heads- 
 man's block. 
 
 Silently these three conspirators moved through 
 the streets. They reached the Preobraskenski 
 barracks, unchallenged. It is probable that they 
 were observed ; but, if so, the few passers-by, or 
 the sentinels on guard at the public buildings, 
 considered that it was but a freak of their beloved 
 Princess ; and that safety for themselves consisted 
 in their being careful not to observe too much, 
 and not to recognize these daring intruders upon 
 the stillness of night. 
 
 The Preobraskenski regiment was thoroughly 
 prepared to receive the foremost personage of the 
 three midnight conspirators. Upon a sHght 
 knock being given at the gate of the barracks, it 
 was immediajtely opened. The thirty men of i;he 
 regiment, who had long been gained over to the 
 service of the Princess, and who had for some 
 time ardently wished for the coming of this im- 
 portant crisis, rose and welcomed her, with their 
 corporal, Grunstein, at their head. They then 
 summoned the rest of their comrades, numbering 
 about two hundreS and seventy, and told them 
 that the Princess Elizabeth had come to speak to 
 them. When they were all assembled, she made a 
 short speech, stating her grievances, declaring 
 her rights, and finally asking them whether they 
 would, one and all, support her in her resolve, 
 to claim then and there her just inheritance, the 
 throne of Russia, and to rule them as it became 
 the daughter of Peter the Great to rule. 
 
 There was not a moment's hesitation. Every 
 man in the regiment was ready and willing to 
 offer his allegiance to her. 
 
176 IVAN DE BIRON, 
 
 In their enthusiasm; however, they uttered 
 words which horrified the humane Princess. 
 " We are ready : we will kill them all." * 
 
 Never was the comment which Lady Macbeth 
 made, when reading her husband's letter, more 
 applicable than to the Princess. 
 
 " What thou would'st highly, 
 " That would'st thou hoUly." 
 
 And Elizabeth Petrovna had a more consistent 
 character than that of the faltering Macbeth. She 
 iudignantly replied " If you intend to act in that 
 way, I will not go with youij " and those of her 
 contemporaries, or of after-historians who have 
 studied this remarkable woman's nature closely, 
 would have known, and know, that these were 
 not idle words, and that, even at this perilous 
 moment, she would have abandoned the enter- 
 prise, recognizing all the danger of such abandon- 
 ment, if its success were to be attained by any 
 sacrifice of human life. 
 
 The soldiers shouted " Let it be as you wish, 
 and as God wishes ; but we are ready to sacrifice 
 our lives for you." 
 
 The first thing they did, to prove the sincerity 
 of their words, was to seize upon that loyal but 
 unfortunate subaltern officer, the Scotchman 
 Grews. 
 
 That done, they followed the Princess, who 
 went straight to the Winter Palace, where the 
 Duchess Eegent, the grand Duke of Brunswick 
 her husband, and their infant child, the young 
 Emperor, were lodged. 
 
 No difficulty was experienced from the guards 
 who surrounded the palace. Upon hearing what 
 
 * Matiouscheha, moui gotovoui moui ix vcex oubiem. 
 
IVAN'S PART IN IT. 177 
 
 the Princess Blizabetli proposed to do, they in- 
 stantly acquiesced, as if it had been quite a matter 
 of course, and to be expected according to the 
 ordinary march of events in Eussia. 
 
 It might have been thought that the Duchess 
 Regent would have gained sufficient experience 
 from her own successful conspiracy, to place but 
 little reliance upon piquets stationed • in front of 
 her palace, and of sentinels placed at its doors. 
 
 The progress of this conspiracy bore an almost 
 ludicrous similarity to her own ; and, like it, went 
 to prove the uselessness of depending upon the 
 fidehty of the Russian soldiery at that period, in 
 such emergencies. A little dog inside the palace 
 walls, would have been more serviceable than all 
 these sentinels and piquets. 
 
 A detachment was sent forward, headed by 
 Lestocq and Woronzkow, to enter the palace. 
 It was then that Ivan, emerging from his place' 
 of concealment, took his part in the proceedings 
 of that night. He had seen the approach of the 
 Priucess at the head of her Preobraskenski 
 followers. He had listened to the conference 
 between them and the piquets on guard. He felt 
 that all was lost for the side that he had taken ; 
 but, losing all sight of policy, and behaving like 
 the brave and noble youth that he really was, he 
 resolved to peril his life, and willingly to die, if 
 die he must, in the endeavour to give some warn- 
 ing to the Duchess Eegent, into whose service he 
 considered he had already entered. 
 
 It was a dark night. The conspirators rushed 
 forward, not in any soldier-like ■ order, but like a 
 mob; and Ivan found no difficulty in entering 
 with them. He knew the ways of the palace 
 better than they did; and, though persistently 
 followed by two or three of them, he reached tha 
 
178 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Grand Ductess's sleeping apartment a few mo- 
 ments before they did. Not in time, thougli, to 
 give any warning. He turned and faced the in- 
 surgent crowd of soldiery. 
 
 In a moment he was cut down by the stroke of 
 a sword on his shoulder ; and, kicking his body 
 aside, for he was in a state of insensibility, the 
 conspirators entered the apartment. 
 
 Themselves conspirators, the Duchess Regent 
 and her husband must have felt, when suddenly 
 awakened by this clamour in their room that an 
 evil time had come for them ; and that they were 
 to undergo the same fate as that which, only one 
 year ago, they had caused to fall upon the ex- 
 Regent of Russia, the Duke of Courland. They 
 made no resistance. 
 
 The Grand Duke, the Duchess Regent, the 
 infant Emperor Ivan, and the favourite, Juliana 
 de Mengden, were at once seized by the con- 
 spirators ; and were conveyed that night in 
 sledges to the palace of the Princess Elizabeth, 
 who herself returned there about three o'clock in 
 the morning. Other arrests were then made of 
 certain persons supposed to be especially devoted 
 to the late dynasty, among whom was Count 
 Ostermann, whose craft did not, on this occasion, 
 suflSce to save himself. 
 
 Ivan was carried to the Princess Elizabeth's 
 Palace with the Imperial captives, it being sup- 
 posed that he was a person of some consequence. 
 
 During that eventful night, his movements had 
 been sedulously watched, not by any spy, but by 
 the loving Azra. 
 
 She had not shown herself to him, being afraid 
 that he would send her back, but she had been 
 more convinced of the peril in which he stood, 
 than even he had been himself She could not 
 
AZRA'S CARE FOR IVAN. 179 
 
 enter with the insurgent soldiers ; but she •watched 
 for their return ; and when Ivan was carried out 
 by some of them, she followed to the Princess 
 Ehzabeth's Palace, and there in the tumult of the 
 night she was able to gain an entrance. Ivan 
 was taken into the presence of the Princess ; and 
 what he had done was told her. 
 
 The magnanimous Princess, for such she was, 
 at once said " Let the poor youth go. But see, 
 he cannot stand. Is there any one who will take 
 care of him ? " 
 
 They told her that his sister was in the haU ; 
 for Azra had said that she was his sister. And 
 the Princess replied " Give him to her, and let 
 him be taken wherever she wishes. But let us 
 hear no more of him, for we will not that any one 
 should suffer for what has been done this night." 
 
 Then, sHghtly withdrawing, but there were 
 those who heard what she said, she exclaimed, 
 " Win there be any one so true to me, who will 
 be ready to die for my sake, when my time shall 
 come ? " 
 
 And then the generals and the statesmen be- 
 gan to throng about her Imperial Majesty, and 
 to tell her that this day was the happiest day of 
 their Hves, and the one to which they had long 
 been looking forward. " Was she not the daughter 
 of the greatest Sovereign that Russia had ever 
 known ? the Sovereign, indeed, who had created 
 Russia, and made it the mighty Empire that it 
 had been fated to be." 
 
 On the ensuing morning, the senate and nobles 
 of tiussia were invited to attend at the Princess 
 Blizabeth''s Palace, and to confirm her accession 
 to the throne. 
 
 AH the troops then quartered at St. Peters- 
 burg, were desired to parade outside the palace. 
 
 'n2 
 
i8o IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Neither within, nor without those walls, was 
 the slightest objection taken by, any of the persons 
 there assembled, to the claims of the Princess 
 Elizabeth to ascend the throne which her father 
 had so worthily occupied. 
 
 One touching incident served to heighten the 
 strangeness of this memorable event. The infant 
 Emperor, delighted with the noise of the soldiers 
 shouting for their new Sovereign, clapped his 
 tiny hands, and did what he could to welcome the 
 new order of things. 
 
 " Ah ! poor child," exclaimed Elizabeth, now 
 Empress of Russia, perhaps for the moment 
 touched with some feeling of remorse, "you 
 little know what this day^s work has done for 
 you." 
 
 Thus was completed a revolution which, even 
 in that epoch of revolutions, was remarkable for 
 the recklessness with which it was prepared, and 
 for the completeness with which it was carried 
 into execution. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE GREAT EEVBNaE OE THE PEINCESS MAEIE ON 
 
 THE HOUSE OF BIEON EECALL OF EXILES FROM 
 
 BIEEEIA. 
 
 Meanwhile, in Siberia, during the impori;- 
 ant and singular transactions at the Court of 
 Russia which have been narrated, the gloomy 
 year went round, bringing little or no hope to the 
 exiles. They had no reason to think that the 
 reign of the infant Emperor was likely to be 
 disturbed. They naturaUy supposed that Miin- 
 nich, the foremost general Eussia had produced 
 in that age, a man, too, of much political dex- 
 terity, was not likely to allow the Duchess 
 Regent to be deprived of power; and, all of 
 them, without any exception, looked forward to a 
 long continuance of the present dynasty, and did 
 not dare to hope otherwise than that they them- 
 selves should hve and die in exile. 
 
 Strange to say, the Duke of Courland did not 
 find his days of exile pass so miserably now as 
 might have been expected. The daily visits of 
 the Princess Marie were a great solace to him. 
 
i84 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 These visits were never omitted. The Duke 
 and his visitor had lived in the same circle. 
 The Princess had been accustomed from her 
 earliest years to listen to political discussions, 
 and was well versed in all the principal occur- 
 rences at Court that had happened up to the time 
 when her father and his family were banished. 
 
 The Duke of Courland was, as may have been 
 already seen from this narrative, a very remark- 
 able man, and had even some touch of genius 
 in him. Indeed the favourites of monarchs mostly 
 are remarkable men — ^not, necessarily, because 
 monarchs have any particular skill in the choice 
 of men j but because they (the favourites in ques- 
 tion) are chosen by one person. The favourites 
 of assemblies, on the other hand, generally gain 
 their power from a large manifestation of second- 
 rate qualities ; and whatever genius they have, is 
 as likely to be a hindrance as a help to them. By 
 the word 'favourites,' as used above, favourite 
 ministers are chiefly meant, not favourite com- 
 panions. 
 
 It was something new to the Duke, hitherto 
 all-powerful and greatly feared by aU who came 
 near him, even by the late Empress herself, to 
 find some one who talked to him without reticence, 
 and with perfect fearlessness, and who did not 
 hesitate to speak openly to him of some of his 
 own doings. He did not know who she was. 
 Hated though he was, and avoided by all his 
 fellow-exiles, with the exception of the Princess, 
 he still might easily have succeeded in discover- 
 ing her name. She, however, had told him from 
 the first, that if he attempted to make this dis- 
 covery, he would see no more of her; and this 
 threat proved sufficient to restrain his curiosity. 
 
 She became very dear to him. He did not 
 
REVENGE OF PRINCESS MARY. 185 
 
 like to tell himself how dear she had become. 
 Perhaps love is never so potent as when it seizes 
 upon those who have passed their first youth, 
 or even those who have passed the prime of life. 
 The choice made is then likely to be thoroughly 
 suited to the nature of the man ; and any intellec- 
 tual gifts on the part of the woman are likely to 
 be more attractive to a man of this age than to a 
 younger person. Besides, there is a feeling that 
 as life is not likely to be very long, this late 
 love is the last thing to be clung to ; and that 
 after it, should it be lost, all will be desolation. 
 
 It could not be said, however, that the Duke 
 loved this young woman. Certainly if he did 
 so, it was unconsciously. But he thought her 
 the most attractive person he had ever known. 
 He looked forward to her coming, — counting 
 the hours, even the minutes which preceded it ; 
 and he dreaded her departure, inventing nume- 
 rous excuses to delay it, feeling bitterly the 
 utter loneliness that then fell upon him. The 
 Duke was a man of much fascination of manner, 
 which he then exerted to the uttermost. Not 
 without some effect. The Princess herself began 
 to feel less and less irksome these visits, which 
 she had first made from a sense of duty, or rather, 
 we might say, if we looked narrowly into her 
 motives, from a strange desire for a great and 
 noble revenge — ^revenge, not only upon the chief 
 enemy of her father and his family, but also 
 upon her lover Ivan, whom she stiU accused of 
 having basely deceived her by the concealment 
 of his name and lineage. 
 
 Such was the state of things in that obscure 
 little town in Siberia, Pelem, where some of the 
 principal personages of our story were at that 
 time residmg. 
 
i86 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 A great change was, however, preparing for 
 them — a change very frequent in Russian history. 
 In factj during that century, exile to Siberia was 
 merely a Eussian mode of " going out of office." 
 It was a mode practicable only in a country of 
 that extent — ^in fact a little world of its own; 
 and certainly it was a better system than that 
 adopted in French revolutions, and other like 
 convulsions in other countries, when the going- 
 out of office mostly accompanied, or shortly 
 preceded, the loss of life as well as of power. 
 And there are some zealots perhaps, who, living 
 under constitutional governments, and fondly de- 
 siring that those who govern should have more 
 power of government, would not be sorry if there 
 were a Liberia attached to their own country to 
 which the chiefs of the defeated party might 
 occasionally be sent, instead of being suffered to 
 remain, and thus to form a powerful and vexa- 
 tious opposition, able to thwart the policy of 
 their successors in office. 
 
 The inhabitants of Pelem were pursuing their 
 daily labours — those labours, which, in .their 
 former and happier days, they could hardly 
 have supposed themselves capable of executing 
 — while couriers were speeding from St. Peters- 
 burg with orders for their immediate recall. 
 These orders were almost indiscriminate. The 
 Duke of Courland was to be recalled; for, as 
 before stated, he had always kept on good terms 
 during his tenure of power with the Princess 
 Ehzabeth. Again, as was natural, the daughter 
 of Peter the Great was anxious to recall the 
 Menschikoffs, and all the friends, favourites and 
 servants of her father, who had been banished 
 during the reign that succeeded his. 
 
 Among these exiles were the Prince Serbatoff 
 
RECALL OF THE EXILES. 187 
 
 and all tlie Prince's family, including of course, 
 the Princess Maria Andr^evna. 
 
 It was early in the morning of a dreary day 
 that the Duke of Courland paced up and down 
 his chamber in a most restless manner. Every 
 now and then he went to the window, but re- 
 turned to resume his weary pacings up and down 
 the room, with a most dissatisfied expression of 
 countenance. Though early, it was an hour later 
 than the time when he was usually visited by the 
 Princess Marie. She had never been so late 
 before ; and the Duke's mind was filled with the 
 most gloomy apprehensions. He feared that 
 she was ill. Anything else, he said to himself, 
 he could bear but this. There were unaccustomed 
 noises, too ; but, as the windows looked only 
 into the courtyard at the rear of the house, no- 
 thing could be seen from them which could 
 explain the noise in the streets ; and it showed 
 the Duke's absence of mind, or rather his un- 
 conscious return to the habits of former days, 
 that he had gone often to the window, as if 
 it had been one in his room at the Summer 
 Palace of St. Petersburg. 
 
 He did not venture to show himself on the flat 
 roof of the house which might have enabled him 
 to understand the cause of this delay in the 
 coming of the Princess, and of the noises in the 
 street which became more and more defined. 
 
 His anxiety was soon relieved in a very un- 
 expected manner. A courier came to him, an- 
 nouncing the glad tidings of his recall; and 
 almost immediately afterwards a letter was 
 brought to him from the Princess Marie. It. 
 was a cold, polite letter. It told him that there 
 was no occasion for her seeing him again. His 
 Highness would have no need now of any 
 services which she could render. Such as sh& 
 
i88 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 liad rendered, were given to one who was, yes- 
 terday, only a poor exile like herself. 
 
 The letter was signed by her in full : " The 
 Princess Marie Andrfevna Serbatoff." 
 
 The Duke shivered as he read this letter. " So 
 then," he said, " this was the daughter of one of 
 my bitterest enemies ; and such was her revenge. 
 And it was all revenge, I fear. Some womanly 
 pity, mayhap ; but nothing more." The thought 
 crossed his mind that he would have been con- 
 tented with a longer exile, had she been there 
 to share it, even though it was but pity that 
 brought her to his side. 
 
 Being now a free man, and caring no longer 
 for the aversion or the hatred of his fellow-exiles, 
 he rushed from the house, and inquired for the 
 dwelHng of the Serbatoffs. But, to his dismay 
 they had already gone. It was the Princess 
 Marie, who had skilfully contrived that the 
 intelligence of the Duke's recall should not 
 reach him until she and her family had quitted 
 the town. The Duke followed with all speed. 
 A memorable incident occurred in the course of 
 •his journey. At a bridge, near Kazan, his sledge 
 was stopped, as another sledge, escorted by 
 soldiers, had arrived on the bridge at the same 
 moment. In it was Count Miinnich. Each of 
 the two great rivals and bitter enemies, recog- 
 nized the countenance of the other. They did 
 not speak; but, lifting their caps, bowed with 
 grave pohteness. The Duke pursued his journey 
 to St. Petersburg ; while the Count went on to 
 Pelem, to occupy the very house to which he 
 had sent his rival, and the plan of which he had 
 designed with his own hand. 
 
 Such were the vicissitudes of fortune which 
 befell Eussian statesmen at that period, and long 
 afterwards. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE II, 
 
 AZEA'S CAEE op IVAN — HE WEITES TO THE EMPRESS 
 ELIZABETH THE RESULT OF THAT LETTER. 
 
 The story now returns to St. Petersburg, 
 the time being that which immediately succeeded 
 the successfiil enterprise of Elizabeth to place 
 herself upon the throne. For the first few 
 days after that event, the state of affairs at St. 
 Petersburg was such that any bold attempt made 
 by the partisans of the late Duchess Regent, and 
 the late infant Emperor, might have greatly 
 embarrassed the new government. The child- 
 hood of the deposed Emperor was much in his 
 favour; and there were statesmen who would 
 have been very glad to avail themselves of his 
 long minority to consolidate their own power, 
 and to promote their own views. The population 
 of St. Petersburg would have looked on with a 
 feeling of comparative indifference, for Elizabeth^s 
 popularity rested with the soldiery, and chiefly 
 with those favoured regiments, such as the 
 Preobraskenski, which had all along been 
 devoted to her cause. 
 
190 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 No daring attempt, however, was made by the 
 partisans of the Duchess Eegent and her family ; 
 and the new Empress was at liberty to employ 
 herself in rewarding those who had gained for 
 Tier the Empire, and in punishing those whose 
 only fault was their fidelity to the late Duchess 
 Regent. Lestocq and Grunstein, and even the 
 •common soldiers of the Preobraskenski regi- 
 ment, were highly favoured and rewarded. The 
 Empress's opponents were condemned to death ; 
 but Elizabeth, true to her intention to abolish 
 capital punishment in Russia, commuted all 
 these sentences of death to the lesser condemna- 
 tion of exile to Siberia. 
 
 As was to be expected, Marshal Miinnich and 
 Oount Ostermann were among those statesmen 
 who were considered to be most dangerous 
 to the new dynasty. They had been immediately 
 arrested. Each of these great men bore his 
 reverse with singular fortitude and even daring. 
 The Count's sentence was not commuted until he 
 had absolutely been brought to the block; and 
 the Marshal, knowing what a farce, for the most 
 part, judicial examinations are, when the judges 
 are taken from a domiaant party and the accused 
 are prominent persons of a defeated party, bade 
 them write anything they liked in the nature of 
 articles of accusation, and he would sign them, as, 
 indeed, he did. 
 
 The fate of these statesmen does not concern 
 this story so much as the fate of certain, minor 
 personages, and especially that of Ivan de Biron. 
 When taken to his miserable lodgings, it need 
 hardly be said that he was there carefully tended 
 hy his so-called sister, Azra the gypsy. 
 
 It has been remarked by some shrewd ob- 
 servers of human nature that a certain kind 
 
AZRA'S CARE OF IVAN. 191 
 
 ■of familiarity (tte familiarity, for instancej which, 
 must exist in a sick room) endears men to 
 women; but has not a similar effect or, at any 
 •rate, not so great an effect upon men with regard 
 to women. 
 
 Azra's weary watchings of the wounded man 
 only rendered the poor gypsy girl more fond 
 of him. She had much to endure. During 
 the fever that beset him in the first few days 
 of his illness, he was occasionally deUrious; 
 and in his ravings spoke much of his beloved 
 Marie. 
 
 The liking of Azra had been sudden, as was to 
 be expected from her ardent Eastern nature; 
 but it had been greatly fostered and increased, 
 most unintentionally on Ivan's part, by his 
 conduct and bearing towards her. A man is 
 seldom more respectful to all women than when 
 he is very much in love with any one. Now 
 Azra, the beauty of her tribe, had not been 
 without many lovers both among her own people 
 and amongst strangers. But their wooing had 
 been of a very rough character, and had always 
 disgusted the refined nature of the girl. On the 
 •contrary, Ivan who had always been most 
 respectful to her, treating her as a faithful 
 friend, and somewhat as a brother, had thus 
 greatly added to his attractiveness. She felt 
 that she had never before been respected; and 
 this respectful bearing on his part had a wonder- 
 ful charm for her. 
 
 Ivan's wound had not been of a serious 
 character. The meagre fare and the constant 
 exercise he had taken, for he might be said to 
 have lived in the streets since his return to 
 St. Petersburg, aided his recovery. Azra was 
 not only his chief nurse, but his only doctor. 
 
192 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Like tlie other women of her tribe, she was 
 familiar with the treatment of wounds ; a know- 
 ledge gained in the course of the feuds that 
 occasionally arose between the gypsies, the 
 police, the soldiery, and, generally, the lower 
 classes in the great towns of Russia, which 
 feuds sometimes led to very severe encounters. 
 
 Azra, would not have trusted to her own skill 
 in caring for this life so precious to her, if she 
 had possessed the means of paying for a doctor. 
 All her little earnings went to provide the pay- 
 ment for the lodgings, which was inexorably 
 demanded week by week, and also for the food 
 and medicaments which were necessary for the 
 patient. 
 
 The new reign of the Empress Elizabeth had 
 now lasted three weeks, and. had been consoli- 
 dated without any serious difficulty, when Ivan, 
 now recovered from his wound, became perfectly 
 conscious of his condition and anxious to do 
 something for his livelihood. During the last 
 week he had been fully aware of all that Azra 
 had done for him, and that he had been 
 supported by her precarious earnings. She 
 had never been able to remaia a whole day with 
 him ; and it was wonderful that she had had the 
 strength and endurance to go through her usual 
 toilj and, at the same time, to minister for several 
 hours in the day, and for a great part of the 
 night, to the many wants of her patient. 
 
 A curious scene was now enacted between 
 Ivan and Azra. It was the middle of the day, 
 and Azra had stolen away from her gypsy 
 friends, having secreted a portion of their 
 common meal. The gypsies that morning had 
 not been successful in their labours, and not a 
 single copeck had fallen to Azra's share. Some 
 
AZRA'S CARE OF IVAN. 193 
 
 sustenance, howeverj was provided for the pair 
 by the food which Aara had brought with her ; 
 but that beverage so dear to all who live iu 
 Russia, tea, was not forthcoming. Ivan rum- 
 maged in his pockets in that hope, so often 
 proving vain, but still always prevalent among 
 very poor people, that some well-disposed small 
 coin may have secreted itself in. an obscure 
 comer, vnth a view to being joyfully welcomed 
 on some dire occasion. 
 
 Azra imitated the movements of Ivan, and 
 explored the capacious pockets which aU gypsies, 
 male and female, are wont to carry about with 
 them. After several fruitless expeditions into 
 the recesses of their pockets, the young pair 
 were obliged to confess to one another their 
 utter impecuniosity, which confession they 
 accompanied with an immoderate burst of 
 laughter. Oh ! what a happy thing is youth ! 
 It can find something to laugh at even iu the 
 -direst state of misfortune. As Beranger says, 
 
 Dans un grenier qu'on est bien a vingt ans. 
 
 " Something must be done," exclaimed Ivan, 
 feeling that he must take the lead in the 
 <!onversation. 
 
 "Tes, dear Ivan" (she had for some time 
 indulged herself in calling him "dear Ivan," 
 though he, on rare occasions only, called her 
 "dear Aara"). 
 
 Ivan was the least vain of young menj but 
 still a thought, not altogether unwelcome, but 
 which was to be resolutely repressed, would 
 ■darkly intrude itself upon him, that he and 
 this poor girl were becomiug a Httle more 
 intimate than would be desirable for her or 
 for him, and certainly for the Princess Marie, 
 
194 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 whose presence lie did not feel sure, -would have 
 been quite acceptable on these occasions. 
 
 "Yes, Ivan, something must be done; but it 
 need not be done by you, dear. I can now leave 
 you for much longer times, and so shall gain 
 more. We gypsies have a saying, ' Light wallet 
 in the morning : heavy wallet at night.' I am 
 sure to be very rich this evening, for Moostan, 
 our chief, said that we should go to the Caf6 
 Preobraskenski this evening, and all the soldiers 
 there have so much money from the Empress 
 that they don't know what to do with it. That 
 rouble I had the other day came from one of 
 them." 
 
 It is a strange thing, but one never under- 
 stands human nature, that Ivan did not at all 
 like to hear of this rouble given by a soldier; 
 n,or did it at all delight him that Azra was to 
 sing and dance at the Preobraskenski Cafe that 
 night. Yet he was true — as true as men can 
 ever be — ^to the one object of his devotion, the 
 Princess Marie ; and he would have resented it 
 as an insult of the deepest kind if any one had 
 ventured even to inquire why it was that he 
 should have had any dislike to Azra's going to 
 that caf6, where the soldiers were so generous 
 and so kind, and withal so profuse in their 
 admiration for pretty gypsy girls. 
 
 Ivan, with that grand power of self-deception 
 which, perhaps, is the greatest source of our 
 happiness, entirely declined to ask himself any 
 question of that nature. 
 
 "I wish you would not go so often to 
 that cafe, Azra,'" he exclaimed, somewhat 
 pettishly. 
 
 Azra must have been a very innocent girl, for 
 not the faintest notion that anything like jealousy 
 
AZRA'S CARE OF IVAN. 195 
 
 was beginning to arise in the dim depths of 
 Ivan's soul, entered at all into her mind. 
 
 " Oh ! " she replied, " we sometimes get five 
 times as much from that cafe as from anywhere 
 else; and Moostan says — he is such a wise old 
 man, and very good to me — that we should not 
 get nearly so much if we went there too often. 
 But I must go, dear, I can't stay any longer, I 
 was beaten the other day — but I didn't mind it, 
 for being late." And so saying, she seized his 
 pallid hand and kissed it. That did not mean 
 much in that time and amongst that people, for 
 there was a constant kissing of hands on the 
 part of inferiors to superiors. And then she 
 moved. quickly out of the room. 
 
 Ivan's thoughts, after she left, were very 
 disconsolate. Even before the new Empress's 
 accession to the throne, he had been ill-received 
 by all his former friends and acquaintances whom 
 he had solicited. Few, indeed, were those to 
 whom he could appeal; for, as has been said 
 before, most of his friends and relatives had been 
 sent to Siberia. And now what chance had he, 
 the only man who had really made any effort 
 personally, to avert the successful revolution, 
 of finding support or favour with any human 
 being in St. Petersburg ? As he pondered over 
 these thoughts, a most daring project came into 
 his mind. In the confusion that had occurred 
 during that night, when the Princess Elizabeth 
 seized upon the reins of empire, all rank and 
 order had been disturbed. Many persons of the 
 lower ranks, servants and others, had crowded 
 into the haU of Elizabeth's Palace when the 
 Duchess Eegent, her husband, the infant Em- 
 peror, and the other prisoners had been brought 
 in. 
 
 o2 
 
196 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The new Empress had never been accustomed 
 to speak with "bated breath, or whispering 
 humbleness ; " and she was not likely to do so 
 when she felt that she was supreme in Russia. 
 She had, moreover, the loud clear voice of her 
 father j and though what she had said on Ivan's 
 being brought wounded into the Hall, was 
 probably not meant by her to be overheard, 
 it was as loudly uttered as a "stage aside;" 
 and twelve or thirteen people, some of them of 
 the lower class, heard every word of it. A 
 version of the Empress's saying, not very 
 accurate, but still not very far from the truth, 
 was current in St. Petersburg. The gypsies, 
 always eager for intelligence, learnt 'what had 
 been said or was supposed to have been said, by 
 the Empress ; and Azra had not failed to repeat 
 it to Ivan, thinking that it would be some 
 comfort to him to hear it. 
 
 He said to himself " She and Azra are great 
 souls." He could not help smiling after he had 
 said this to himself, at his daring to Hken Azra 
 to the, Empress. "But they are ahke; for they 
 can both recognize and understand fidelity. I 
 will write to her," meaning the Empress,- " and 
 will claim to be admitted into her service." 
 
 So he did write ; and his letter was such a one 
 as royal or imperial personages seldom receive. 
 He told the Empress, who he was and the story 
 of his life. He confessed that he had known of 
 the conspiracy; and from motives of gratitude 
 had told what he knew to Juliana de Mengden : 
 that he had then done his best to prevent the 
 success of the plot ; and had received his wound 
 at the door of the Duchess Eegent's sleeping 
 apartment. 
 
 He concluded his letter by saying that if the 
 
IVAN WRITES TO THE EMPRESS. 197 
 
 new Empress would forgive him (not that he 
 regretted what he had done), would receive him 
 into her favour, and give him any employment 
 however humble, he would be true to her for the 
 remainder of his life, and ready to die for her if 
 an occasion required it. 
 
 It was a bold, noble letter, very characteristic 
 of the man who had, even when serving the Duke 
 pf Coiirland, ventured at the risk of his life, to 
 provide some solace for the unfortunate exiles to 
 Siberia whom his inexorable master had sent 
 thither with an unsparing hand. 
 
 Ivan was not naturally what may be called a 
 very clever man, certainly not a man of any 
 genius. He had learnt, it is true, a great deal 
 as Biron's secretary; but the Duke, a good 
 judge of character, had chosen him not for his 
 ability, but on account of the singular honesty 
 that he perceived in him. And Ivan, with many 
 scruples and with much suffering, bad been 
 substantially a true servant to his master; 
 though if the Duke had known that his secre- 
 tary had ever sought to mitigate the sufferings 
 of the Duke's many victims, it would have fared 
 iU with that dependant. Whether Ivan were, or 
 were not, a man of any great talent, certain it is 
 that he had a great soul, and could carry his Hfe 
 in his hand, as the saying is; and that is 
 what few men have nobleness enough to do. 
 He knew, as he penned this letter, that exile 
 or death, might not be an improbable conse- 
 quence of it; but he dared the utmost extreme 
 that fate could send him. 
 
 On the following morniag he told Azra that he 
 had written a petition to the new Empress. He 
 did not venture to read it to her, or to teU her 
 its exa,ct purport, for he feared that her loving 
 
198 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 anxiety for Tn'm would make her perceive all the 
 danger of such a missive, and prevent her from 
 aiding him in getting it conveyed to its destina- 
 tion. The beautiful gypsy girl was well known 
 at the palace^ as throughout St, Petersburg, and 
 was not without admirers in those sacred precincts. 
 Very great personages might have failed to get; 
 any memorial conveyed directly into the hands of 
 the Empress. Azra was not so powerless ; and 
 she succeeded in causing this letter of Ivan's to 
 be brought at once into the hands of the greatest 
 personage iu Eussia. 
 
 The Empress, never unobservant of masculine 
 beauty and never disinclined to notice and to 
 favour any greatness and devotion in a subject, 
 was delighted with Ivan's letter; and read 
 portions of it to her attendant ladies, who, 
 seeing the bent of their mistress's mind, did not 
 fail to encourage her in what they called her 
 noble goodness to an enemy. 
 
 The result was that a most favourable answer 
 was sent to Ivan ; and, in a short time, he was 
 appointed one of the Dvoraini, or Gentlemen of 
 the Chamber, in the Empress's household. She 
 regarded him with particular favour, and would 
 sometimes condescend to jest with him about the 
 wound which had not exactly been received in 
 Her service ; but which had spoken so potently 
 for him. And Ivan, in the fervour of his new 
 gratitude, would protest that he would die for 
 her. Upon which the mirthful Empress would 
 reply " We shall see : we shall see : and perhaps 
 sooner than you expect, De Biron. Men are very 
 apt to say that they will die for the ladies ; but 
 our poor experience has not led us to recognize a 
 large amount of male mortality resulting from, 
 these masculine protestations." 
 
THE RESUL2 OF THE LETTER. 199 
 
 There were those about Court, but courtiers 
 are sometimes maKoious, who even prognosti- 
 cated that Ivan would supplant the reigning 
 favouritCj so much beloved, as scandal said, 
 though of low origin, by the accomplished 
 and handsome Elizabeth. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A BAIL AT THE WINTEE PALACE THE MEETING 
 
 BETWEEN IVAN AND THE PEINCESS MAEIE ^AZEA 
 
 SINGSj AND THE EMPEESS EECOUNTS THE STOET 
 0¥ AZEA AND IVAN. 
 
 Theee was a grand ball at the Winter 
 Palace. The new Empress was determined that 
 her Court should equal, if not surpass, in splen- 
 dour the Courts of the preceding reigns. As it 
 has been said before, this splendour might be 
 somewhat of a barbaric kind; but it was splen- 
 dour. The entertainments provided were cer- 
 tainly somewhat incongruous. For instance, m. 
 addition to the regular musicians who constituted 
 the Empress's own band, there were stationed, 
 in different parts of the hall, other musicians, 
 chiefly stagers,, who were to fill up the inter- 
 ludes of dancing by national songs, these bands 
 being dressed in costume. Azra the gypsy girl 
 was there. Her talent was well known, at any 
 rate by all the lower classes of St. Petersburg, 
 
A BALL AT THE WINTER PALACE. 20 r 
 
 and she had been chosen to form one of a party 
 who had called themselves the " Minstrels of 
 the Neva." 
 
 The other girls who sang in this band were 
 dressed in the old Russian fashion ; but Azra, 
 according to the immutable rules of her tribe, 
 was not allowed to dress otherwise than in their 
 peculiar costume. There had been much dif- 
 ficulty in reconciling the other members of 
 the band to this difference of dress; but th& 
 question was settled by a musical necessity. 
 
 There was a certain solo part of a song, 
 which was to be sung at a late period of the- 
 evening, and which, with what was called the 
 celebrated "Neva Chorus,^^ was to be the chef- 
 d'oBwvre executed by the Minstrels of the Neva. 
 Now there was no one who could sing this song- 
 so well as Azra, and therefore her presence was 
 considered to be indispensable. 
 
 It might have been expected that the Empress 
 Elizabeth would have some unpleasant remini- 
 scences connected with any ball given at the- 
 Winter Palace, for it was on a similar occasion 
 that she had exercised all her powers of deceit, 
 and had succeeded in deluding the pliant and 
 placable Grand Duchess into a state of abject 
 security. But, amidst the duties and the splendour 
 of a new and great position, any baseness that 
 may have been used in attaining it, is easily for- 
 gotten. Moreover, the character of Elizabeth 
 had rapidly developed under the pressure of 
 Empire. Her mind dwelt not at aU upon th& 
 past, but was full of social and political aims for 
 the future. 
 
 This was the first great entertainment at 
 which she had an opportunity of receiving and 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 welcoming those exiles from Siberia whom she 
 had recalled. 
 
 Here and there, in the crowd, there must have 
 been some courtiers, whose caution or whose 
 happy mediocrity had preserved them intact 
 amidst the frequent perilous changes in the 
 oflBcial life of Russia at that period. They would 
 know how various were the causes which had 
 led to the exile of the high personages then 
 present, and would appreciate the difficulty 
 which the Empress would experience in her 
 endeavour to reconcile them, and to show some- 
 thing like equal favour to all. 
 
 To create a general feeling of amity was her 
 great object. She saw that the security of her 
 reign depended upon her power of effacing 
 ancient feuds amongst the nobility, and making 
 it to be understood that, for the future, there 
 were to be no parties in Russia, but that it was 
 to be one sovereign with supreme power ruling 
 over a united people. The Empress was fully 
 impressed with the great ideas of her father, 
 to which he had often, no doubt, given utterance 
 in her presence. And one of these main 
 ideas was the internal development and civili- 
 zation of the Empire. 
 
 Among the priucipal personages present, there 
 were several who had to play strange parts that 
 evening, and play them weUj for, under the 
 observant eyes of the Empress, great men had 
 to welcome one another and to shake hands, 
 who had done each other irreparable injuries. 
 Passing, however, from them, we come to those 
 who might be considered the minor actors, 
 but who are, nevertheless, not without interest 
 for us. 
 
 The Princess Marie Serbatoff was there. She 
 
A BALL AT THE WINTER PALACE. 203 
 
 had long imagined what she should do, and how 
 she shonld comport herself, if she were ever to 
 meet her old lover Ivan again. After his 
 departure from Pelem, and while she was aiding 
 and comforting his near relation, the Duke of 
 Courland, she had often pictured to herself the 
 meeting with him. Indeed, during her dreary, 
 toilsome journey from Siberia to St. Petersburg, 
 the thought of this meeting had filled her mind. 
 Her father, observing her thoughtfdlness, had 
 frequently asked that question, which, perhaps, 
 has never been truthfully answered since the 
 world began, "What are you thinking of, my 
 dear ? " but had not obtained any other than 
 the usual answer, "Nothing." 
 
 The same thought was now fully in her mind, 
 though she had not the slightest expectation of 
 seeing Ivan at any Imperial festivity. She 
 deemed that though he had returned from exile 
 and had been pardoned, he would still be in 
 obscurity ; and, moreover, it was to be noticed 
 that the Duke of Courland himself was not 
 present on this occasion. The poHtic Empress 
 probably thought that, great as her power and 
 influence might be in reconciling old enemies, 
 that power and influence were not strong enough 
 to admit of her bringing the Duke at once to 
 Court ; for his unwelcome presence would im- 
 bitter so many statesmen who had suffered from 
 his cruel decrees. Other Russian statesmen and 
 ministers had, for the most part, injured only 
 a few families. These feuds were in the nature 
 of private baronial wars. But the number the 
 Duke had injured was legion; and, moreover, 
 the misery he had caused was quite recent and 
 fully in the miads of all men. He had, there- 
 fore, been stopped on his way to St. Petersburg ; 
 
204 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and his escort had received orders to convey 
 him to Jaroslaw, where, for the present, he was 
 to remain. 
 
 To return to the Princess Marie. She was a 
 woman of a very original mind and disposition. 
 With all that indignation strongly acting upon 
 her, at what she most unjustly felt for Ivan's- 
 treachery, as she called it, in not having told 
 her who he was, her love for him was still 
 supreme — that kind of love which it is only 
 given to the greatest souls to feel — immense, 
 unswerving, unalterable, and possessing and 
 pervading the whole existence of the loviag 
 person. 
 
 She was convinced that they never could be 
 united. With her knowledge of her father, 
 how could she hope that he would now — now 
 that he was likely to be powerful agaiu — ^listen 
 for a moment to the proposal of such a mar- 
 riage ; and with her love for her father, how 
 could she make up her mind even to hiat at 
 such an alliance, which she felt would be a death 
 blow to him ? 
 
 How then should she meet Ivan, and in 
 what manner should she treat him ? It was in 
 her resolve upon this poiut, that her originality 
 of character manifested itself. She determined 
 to be cold to him; but it should only be cold 
 as a lover. It should be very warm as a friend. 
 She would thank him for all his kindness to 
 herself — for all the labour on behalf of herself 
 and her family which he had shared. She would 
 not fear to bring up every remiaiscence of this 
 kind, while she would studiously avoid any 
 reference to the sweet and loving words which 
 had passed between them. If he ventured to 
 recall such passages, she would treat these 
 
MEETING OF IVAN AND MARIE, 205 
 
 reminiscences as the nonsense often talked 
 between boys and girlsj in which there could 
 be no real and abiding meaning. She shiid- 
 dered as she thought how real it was ; and how 
 abidiag, at least on her part, it ever would be. 
 And then she smiled, thinking to herself that 
 just thought of how much wiser and older 
 young women are than young men, even when 
 the latter have the apparent superiority of 
 age, as was the case between her and her 
 Ivan. 
 
 We have somewhat anticipated the events 
 which happened at this great festival, or rather 
 have indicated the spirit and the manner in 
 which it was to be conducted by the greater 
 personages, and by one of the minor persons. 
 
 The guests had all arrived. Punctuahty is a 
 virtue known at all Courts, and especially at 
 those which are despotic. The Empress had 
 not yet entered the baU-room. Soon there came 
 a hurrying backwards and forwards of pages 
 and chamberlains dressed in. gorgeous costume. 
 Then there was a buzz of. expectation : then 
 a respectful silence. The folding-doors were 
 thrown open, and the Empress Elizabeth made 
 her entrance, surrounded and followed by a 
 brilliant suite, amongst whom was her new mem- 
 ber of the Household, Ivan de Biron. 
 
 The Princess Marie was not long in recogniz- 
 ing her lover, notwithstanding that his dress 
 and appearance were not a little different from 
 "that coarsely-clad youth who had so often sat 
 by her side in the forest encircling the town of 
 Pelem. 
 
 She felt herself growing pale and cold. We 
 may think beforehand as much as we hke of any 
 ^eat scene we have to encounter; but, when 
 
2o6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 the reality comes, we seldom find that we are 
 quite as well prepared for it, as we thought 
 we were. 
 
 The Princess Marie, to a certain extent, re- 
 covered from her embarrassment by a droll 
 thought — droll from its comical contrast of 
 circumstances — ^which crossed her mind. She 
 could not help remembering how certain she used 
 to be at Pelem to find Ivan seated by her side in 
 a few minutes after the clang of the horns had 
 ceased, which were blown by the herdsmen an- 
 nouncing their return with their cattle to the town. 
 The flourish of trumpets which had announced 
 an event of a very different kind, namely, the 
 entrance of the Empress into the baU-room, had 
 naturally brought back this pleasant reminiscence, 
 to the mind of the Princess. When in the wood 
 at Pelem, she had often, with the playfulness 
 of a girl, shut her eyes, and wrapt in seeming 
 meditation, pretended not to be aware of 
 Ivan's approach, treating it as a matter of 
 great surprise, when he would reproachfully 
 say to her ''You must have known, Marie, 
 that I should have been sure to come, for 
 would I leave you to do all this hard work by 
 yourself ? " 
 
 She never felt more supremely fond of him than 
 when she recalled, as she did at this moment, 
 many meetings of theirs at the edge of the wood; 
 and she thought, unconsciously imitating his 
 Highness of Oourland, " Would that we were aU 
 back again, so that I might have my Ivan to 
 myself, and that those happy days, for so they 
 were to me, could be renewed.'" 
 
 As soon as Ivan could quit his post of duty and 
 mingle with the guests, he made his way to the 
 Princess Marie. He had known that she was to 
 
MEETING OF IVAN AND MARIE. 207 
 
 be therSj and her presence was no surprise to 
 Mm. 
 
 True to lier plan of action, for tte Princess was 
 not one to falter in a great resolve, she received 
 him as one receives, after long absence, a dear 
 friend. They shook hands warmly. Even in 
 that act of welcome though, he felt that there 
 was something very different from that which 
 had been always present in their meetings in the 
 Siberian wood, now so dear to him, with all its 
 fond recollections. She was the first to speak. 
 
 "I am so glad to see you, Ivan. I little 
 thought to see you here, and to find you in high 
 favour, and to what great office does this grand 
 dress belong ? " 
 
 ''I am one of the minor members of the 
 Household, Princess." 
 
 "Somewhat dififerent," she, smiling, said, 
 touching the gold lace upon his shoulder, " from 
 the bear and wolf furs of our hard-working days 
 in Siberia." 
 
 "But you. Princess, are more yourself than 
 ever, now that you appear as becomes your rank, 
 and not in the martens' fur, which I — " 
 
 "Yes, yes; we must not dwell too much 
 upon those former times, Ivan. We now belong 
 to a Court. We must forget the days of 
 Cinderella. You know the old fairy story? 
 How handsome the Empress looks ! How proud 
 you must be, Ivan, to serve such a mistress. I 
 doubt not you are in high favour. They do say 
 she likes to have good-looking youths about 
 her." 
 
 Ivan felt his heart sink, for he fully understood 
 the meaning of these playfol words, and how the 
 Princess' sought by ordinary talk of this kind, to 
 keep him at a distance, and to mark the change 
 
2o8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 which, had taken place, in their respective 
 positions. What was meant by the word 
 'youths •" was not lost upon him. Oh yes : it 
 •was all to be made out to be mere boy-and-girl 
 play — entirely juvenile ! He was right in his 
 conjecture. 
 
 ''But Marioj dearest Marie, have you quite 
 forgotten — ■" 
 
 " Forgotten, no : I am blest with my father's 
 power of memory. I remember everything, even 
 to the foolish sayings of a boy and girl in distant 
 regions. But certainly it is wise, if not pleasant, 
 Ivan, to forget sometimes : and we will not tax 
 our memory too much in recalling what a boy 
 and girl may have said to one another — in. their 
 days of childhood, shall we call it ? " 
 
 " Bid me forget anything but that. Princess.'' 
 
 She laid her hand timidly, but yet affection- 
 ately, upon his arm; and said with a voice that 
 trembled as she spoke, " But we will always be 
 friends, the dearest of friends, Ivan. My father 
 is in favour again. See, the Empress is now 
 -speaking to him. Can we do anythuig for you ? 
 I am sure my father — " 
 
 Ivan, with aU his gentleness, was a proud 
 man, and he felt hurt and humiliated to the very 
 "Uttermost. 
 
 "Your father can do nothing, Princess," he 
 .haughtUy repHed. 
 
 "I should have been glad," he added, "to 
 have had the honour of dancing with the Prin- 
 cess Marie Andreevna Serbatoff; but shall not 
 presume upon our old acquaintanceship in 
 Siberia; and no doubt there are others in the 
 room more fitting to aspire to her hand in the 
 -dance than a mere servitor in the Palace. I see 
 that the Empress is moving onwards, and I had 
 
AZRA SINGS. io9 
 
 better follow, as my duty is, in Her Majesty's- 
 suite .'^ 
 
 So saying, and with a profound bow, Ivan 
 parted from the Princess, carrying with him as 
 sorrow-stricken a heart as was perhaps to be 
 found in that great assemblage, where there 
 were many hearts not at all attuned to the 
 festivity of the proceedings. 
 
 Meanwhile, there was one person in the ball- 
 room who had not been an indifferent spectator 
 to this meeting between the two lovers : who, 
 indeed, had marked every change of look and 
 gesture that had passed between them. This 
 was the gypsy girl, Azra. It happened that the 
 band of singers to which she belonged, had been 
 placed close to the very spot in which the two 
 lovers had met ; and, coming slightly forward 
 from her circle, Azra had been enabled to watch 
 the lovers closely. Ivan had not seen her ; and,, 
 until it had come to her turn to sing, he had 
 been oblivious of her presence. 
 
 When, late in the evening, she did sing, all 
 eyes were attracted to her. Nature had gifted 
 her with greater powers of song than those 
 possessed by any other person then present. 
 The great singers of the opera at St. Petersburg' 
 did not deign to enter these groups, as it would 
 have been quite beneath their dignity to sing the 
 National songs which were in vogue on that 
 occasion. 
 
 The Empress herself, a fine judge of musical 
 talent, returned with all her suite to that part of 
 the room where Azra was singing, and listened 
 with pleased attention. 
 
 It is not a fancy of courtiers, but is a decided 
 fact, that the members of Imperial and Eoyal 
 families have a wonderful power of remembering^ 
 
210 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 V 
 
 people. It is part of their kingly crafty and one 
 whicli they almost always succeed in fulfilling. 
 The Empress had not heard three bars of the 
 song, before she at once recognized the singer; 
 and, after the song had ended, she recounted to 
 the circle of courtiers that surrounded her, the 
 story of Ivan^s having been wounded, and of this 
 gypsy girl having come forward and claimed, as 
 a sister, to take care of the wounded man. 
 
 The Princess Marie had, on Ivan^s quitting 
 her, made her way to her father, sure to be 
 found not far from his imperial mistress ; and 
 Marie had listened attentively to the clear tones 
 of the Empress, while she narrated this interest- 
 ing story of sisterly afiection. 
 
 Elizabeth, with that sense of humour, which 
 ■ nothing could restrain, called Ivan towards her, 
 and said "Tou see, my Lords, that for once we 
 have promoted a gypsy to a place in our House- 
 hold. We should not have discovered, from his 
 looks, his birth and parentage ; and we did 
 rather think that he was more closely allied to 
 the puissant House of Courland than to the 
 gypsy tribe, of which that girl is such an orna- 
 ment. But, my good Ivan," addressing herself 
 to him, ''there is no occasion for blushing so 
 vividly. You may well be proud of your sister. 
 Be good enough to convey to her, with this 
 jewel, (and here she carelessly tore a ruby 
 pendant from her dress) our acknowledgment 
 of the pleasure she has given us." 
 
 Ivan went to Azra and conveyed the Empress's 
 message. Shyly he then drew back, amidst the 
 smiles of the surrounding courtiers. 
 
 There were many persons who did not return in 
 a joyous frame of mind from that ball that night. 
 Amongst them might be counted the discomfited 
 
AZRA AND IVAN. 211 
 
 lover Ivan, the gypsy Azra, and tte Princess 
 Marie, who, to her other sufferings, had now 
 the added pangs of an apparently well-founded 
 jealousy. 
 
 " His sister, indeed ! It is a sister that I 
 never heard of before." 
 
 p2 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE HOPES AND PEOJECTS OP THE PEINCESS MAEIE 
 
 AZEA AND IVAN DESCRIBED AZISA's INTERVIEW 
 
 WITH THE PRINCESS. 
 
 It is not a new thing to say, that a great 
 struggle in any one human heart, could one 
 pourtray it adequately, would be far more 
 interesting than any description of battles, 
 sieges and revolutions, great and important as 
 their results might be. 
 
 There were certaiuly three persons who left 
 the Winter Palace, after that night of festivity, 
 in anything but a happy mood. Their feelings, 
 however, were very different. 
 
 Ivan' was shocked and depressed. He could 
 not realize to himself that the Priucess could 
 be in earnest in repelling him, and that she 
 could so completely have forgotten, or resolved 
 to ignore, her former promises. He knew 
 her waywardness, and atibributed her conduct 
 to any cause but that of falseness to her lover. 
 His course was clear before him. He would 
 
AZRA AND IVAN. 213 
 
 seek for some opportunity of ascertaining 
 what her feelings towards him really were; 
 and he found comfort in thinkingj that it was 
 in accordance with her proud and undemon- 
 strative nature, not to manifest in public any 
 signs of great joy on seeing him for the first 
 time again. Still her words had been very 
 significant, and when he recalled them, hope 
 almost fled from his heart. 
 
 Azra's feelings were undisturbed by perplex- 
 ity. They were, nevertheless, very bitter. She 
 had not failed to notice the cold and distant 
 manner in which the Princess had received 
 her Ivan ; but she had now no doubt whatever 
 how sincere was his attachment, and she was 
 not comforted by perceiving how worthy of 
 his love, at any rate in outward appearance, 
 wa,s the object of that love. 
 
 With the Princess, the state of feeling 
 was very different. Her mind was the prey 
 of contending impulses. She was not going 
 to marry Ivan. That was a decided conclusion. 
 Why then was she made miserable by the 
 recollection of the Empress's story ? 
 
 " So then, it was that singing girl, who had 
 claimed to have the wounded Ivan given to 
 her care — a righteous claim — a proper claim ! 
 Oh, no doubt, a sister's ! " This was the 
 bitter soliloquy of the Princess. It was in 
 vain that she repeated to herself the fatal 
 objections to her union with Ivan — the differ- 
 ence of rank — the family feuds not healed, 
 only the outward manifestation of them sub- 
 dued — the especial enmity her father bore to 
 aU the House of Biron. The Duke of Courland 
 was as hateful as ever to those whom, in 
 the ■ days of his supremacy, he had wronged 
 
214 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and persecuted. Her father, the Princess said 
 to herself again and again, would die rather 
 than consent to her marriage with any one 
 of that hated family, even if he were rich 
 and powerful and not merely an obscure mem- 
 ber of the Imperial Household. 
 
 Still, again and again, these wise reflections 
 were interrupted and controlled by the one 
 thought of that gypsy girl having assumed 
 to herself the care of Ivan during his iUness. 
 " How had she become known to him ? How, 
 if not known and well-known, if indeed they 
 were not old friends, or something dearer than 
 that, had Ivan endured this familiarity ? " 
 
 On the day after the Court baU, Azra had, 
 on some pretext, gone to Ivan's lodgings, 
 and had seen him. He was kind and 
 courteous as ever. His expressions of gra- 
 titude were warmer than everj but the fond 
 girl could not help observing that he was 
 not particularly anxious to protract her stay 
 with him. 
 
 Another day had passed; and the Princess 
 was still wearily reiterating the thoughts 
 which had never been absent from her mind 
 since her return from the Palace, when it 
 was announced to her that a young woman 
 wished to speak to her. She asked her 
 attendant if she knew who it was. To which 
 there came the reply that Stepan, the page, 
 said he was sure it was the young gypsy 
 girl who sings so well in the streets. "Ad- 
 mit her instantly, " exclaimed the Princess ; 
 and Azra entered. 
 
 For a minute or two the young women 
 looked at each other in silence. Each felt 
 with some pain how beautiful the other 
 
AZEA AND THE PRINCESS. 215 
 
 ■was, and yet, they could not but admire 
 eaoii other. This was not their first time 
 of looking earnestly at one another j but it 
 so happened that they were both of that rare 
 order of beauty which shows its best in sim- 
 ple costume. It had been the pride of Azra's 
 tribe to bedizen her with tawdry ornaments 
 on any occasion of her singing in public, 
 which ornaments, reluctantly worn by the girl, 
 had been in ludicrously bad taste. 
 
 And as for the Princess, ' her somewhat 
 severe and yet singular beauty of feature 
 and of expression, had perhaps never been 
 so becomingly adorned as when she wore the 
 simple dress of a Siberian peasant, and had 
 enchanted the heart of Ivan. 
 
 The contrast in the demeanour of the two 
 young women was very great. All that Azra 
 had prepared to say, had gone out of her 
 mind; and she looked the very picture of 
 embarrassment, as she plucked nervously at the 
 tassels of her Kaftan. The Princess, from 
 her earhest years, had lived with great people, 
 and had acquired the best manners of a Court. 
 She was,' if one might use the expression, a 
 girl of the world. She, therefore, was per- 
 fectly self-possessed. 
 
 "What is it that yon want with me?" she 
 said, " I do not even know your name ? " 
 
 "Azra, Madam." 
 
 " And what is it you want ? " 
 
 "Nothing for myself. Madam; but Ivan is 
 so miserable. I am sure if you knew — " 
 
 The Princess's look of astonishment stopped 
 Azra in the middle of her sentence. 
 
 " And who is your Ivan ? — and in what way 
 can I be of any service to you or to him ? " 
 
2i6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 "Ivan de Biron, Madam. The same who 
 was with you in Siberia; but perhaps your 
 Excellency did not know him by that name ? " 
 
 " I do remember him. He was with us in 
 Siberia, and very kind and serviceable he was 
 to aU our household. We are all most grate- 
 ful ; and I am sure my father would do any- 
 thing to serve him. Is he in distress? I 
 should not think so, if I might judge from 
 his appearance, when I last saw him, " 
 
 These answers of the Princess roused the 
 indignation of the faithful Azra, and at once 
 deprived her of either fear, or shame, in regard 
 to what she meant to say. 
 
 " No : he is not in distress, except what 
 your ingratitude and unkindness have brought 
 upon him. You know him well. Princess, 
 and you know he loves you; and I know 
 that when he was in the fever, your name 
 was al\i^ays on his lips; and it did seem as 
 if it had a right to be there. I came to speak 
 up for him, and I am his only friend ia St. 
 Petersburg, except the Empress who has been 
 so good to him." 
 
 The Princess only smiled at the vehemence of 
 Azra ; but she resolved to ascertain the relations 
 between Azra and Ivan : so she said, 
 
 " And pray, if I may make the inquiry, how 
 long have you been acquainted with this young 
 man ? And how is it that he was entrusted to 
 your care ? I think you informed the Empress 
 that he was your brother ? " 
 
 Then Azra told her tale: how, at first, from 
 mere good-nature, pitying his forlorn condition, 
 she had given him information which might 
 restore him to fortune — ^what use he made of this 
 knowledge — how he had been wounded — ^what 
 
AZRA AND THE PRINCESS. 217 
 
 the Empress had said; and, in short, all that had 
 happened, as far as she knew, to Ivan since his 
 return to St. Petersburg. 
 
 The only reply of the Princess was " And what 
 has the pity become ? Do you love him ? " 
 
 Azra was not prepared for this direct question. 
 She hung down her head, looked abashed, and 
 felt that, even through her dark colour, the 
 ■deepest of blushes was visible in hei^ face. ' But 
 the nimble wit of the gypsy girl did not for long 
 desert her. She raised her head; and, looking 
 full at the Princess, said, with a gentle voice, 
 "And you. Madam ? " 
 
 It was now the Princess's turn to feel embar- 
 rassed, but her more worldly self-command pre- 
 vented her from betraying her feelings as openly 
 as Azra had done. She, also, with some gentle- 
 ness, replied. " You saw us, Azra, at the ball. 
 I doubt not that you marked us well. I leave it 
 to your insight, versed as you tell me you and 
 your tribe are in unravelling State secrets and 
 those of the witlings who believe in you, to say, 
 with what feelings, I received your Ivan. And 
 the youth is very dear to me — dear as the best 
 of true friends, and as the kindest help-mate in 
 our trouble. I never had a brother, but — " 
 
 It was fortunate for the Princess (for Azra 
 would not have been satisfied with this dubious, 
 though skilful reply) that the Prince, her father, 
 entered the room at this juncture. She lost not 
 a moment in explaining to her father who Azra 
 was. " The singer, dear father, whom you so 
 much admired the other evening. Tou are wont 
 to be satisfied with your Marie's singing; but I 
 could learn much from her." 
 
 " Well, my dear," said the Prince, " I must 
 confess I like to listen to you better than to 
 
2i8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 any other human being, whether you Speak or 
 sing ; but perhaps you might improve to other 
 ears by practising with this young woman. You 
 would improve her, too." 
 
 The Prince was a kind-hearted gentleman; 
 and, now that he had returned to his proper 
 element, the Court, he was in high good humour. 
 Neither was he insensible to the remarkable 
 loveliness of the gypsy girl, and was pleased to 
 patronize her. 
 
 " And this^ dear Marie, is the same young 
 woman who was so kind to that friend of ours in 
 Siberia, so at least we heard from our gracious 
 sovereign. That young man wUl rise at Court, 
 my dear, I can plainly see that. It's a pity he 
 has that hateful name. Is he a relative? I dare 
 say it's a common name in Courland. There 
 must be many people there with the same name 
 as its low-bom Duke." 
 
 The Princess made no reply to her father's 
 question. ' 
 
 Meanwhile the good gentleman fumbled in his 
 pockets, and produced some gold coins, which, 
 with an affectation of secrecy he placed in Azra's 
 hands ; and then, mentioning to his daughter 
 that she was to accompany him in a formal visit 
 that he was to pay to the Empress in the course 
 of that afternoon, he bowed respectfully to both 
 the young women, and saying that he should 
 hope to be allowed sometimes to assist at their 
 singing lessons, the veteran courtier retired. 
 
 The Princess and Azra, when left alone, 
 looked at one another, and then burst into an 
 immoderate fit of laughter. There was no part 
 of the remarkable character of the Princess 
 which was more predominant than her sense of 
 the ridiculous. Her love of wit and humour had 
 
AZRA AND THE PRINCESS. 219. 
 
 often cheered and encouraged Ivan, who had but 
 little of it in his own somewhat stem and stead- 
 fast character, when they were employed to- 
 gether in household duties in Siberia. 
 
 It pleased and amused the fancy of the Prin- 
 cess, that her father should have supposed the 
 two girls to have been brought together, not- 
 withstanding their difference in rank, by the 
 attraction of musical skill and knowledge, when, 
 in fact, it had been to both of them one of the 
 most dread moments of their lives : a crisis alike 
 to the Princess and the gypsy girl ; for Azra felt 
 that the Princess had not succeeded in conceal- 
 LQg from her that she, too, devotedly loved her 
 Ivan. 
 
 After the laughter had subsided, the Princess 
 was the first to take a decided step. She moved 
 forwards to Azra; and kissed her first on one 
 cheek and then on the other, as was the Russian 
 fashion. 
 
 Upon this Azra knelt and kissed her hand, 
 saying, " My little mother, how good of you, for 
 you know I am only a gypsy girl, and I ought 
 not to have come to youj but it was for his 
 sake." 
 
 The Princess, fearing any further questioning, 
 said " But now Azra you must go, for I must get 
 ready to accompany my father ; " and, so saying, 
 she led her to the door, and kissing her again, 
 dismissed her. 
 
 Her last words were "But we will see one 
 another again. They shall have orders always 
 to admit you." 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 ITAN's ambition — MAINTAINS HIS INTIMACY WITH 
 AZEA WHO LEAKNS TO WBITE. 
 
 If there are superior beings, and perhaps 
 there are, who, unseen, regard us and our 
 doings, what must they think when looking over 
 some vast Ubrary ? What would they say to one 
 another ? It might be something of this kind : 
 " Consider the subjects of their books. Look 
 at the hundreds of thousands about religion, 
 money, or love — not about the essential aspects 
 of religion, but treating of mysteries which their 
 poor understandings are utterly unable to com- 
 prehend. For the rest, there are a good many 
 of these tomes which tell of their foolish quarrels, 
 and there is, a sprinkling, not equal in weight to 
 the dust on the other volumes, of works treating 
 of those things which it most concerns them, to 
 know ; for they cannot build a dwelling fit even 
 for such poor creatures to live iu. In cities, 
 they are not as skilful as the insects which 
 are given them as examples; and they do but 
 
IVAN'S AMBITION. 221 
 
 waste those materials which are given for their 
 solace." 
 
 Without caring to answer what might thus be 
 saidj touching the numberless volumes devoted 
 to religion, money, or war, we might make some 
 defence for the numerous volumes devoted to 
 love. It is not only from its infinite interest, 
 but from its infinite variety, that this subject has 
 justly demanded so many volumes to be devoted 
 to itself. 
 
 Probably there is no instance in which any two 
 lovers have made love exactly in. the same way as 
 any two other lovers, since the world began. 
 
 To the bystander, -too, there, is this especial 
 interest in the matter, that it is the beginniag 
 of a career of comparative unselfishness. It is 
 when in love that a human, beiag, perhaps for 
 the first time in life, finds that another human 
 being is dearer to him or to her, than his or her 
 own self. 
 
 Hence we leave, without regret, for the mo- 
 ment, the thorny paths of Eussian history, to 
 pursue the bye-ways of private life, as 'shown in 
 the loves of the Princess Marie, Aara, and 
 Ivan. 
 
 After quitting the ball, it had been Ivan's 
 settled resolve to demand some fuller explana- 
 tion from the Princess Marie of her conduct 
 towards him ; and he had said to himself that he 
 would do so the next day. 
 
 But he did not do so the next- day, neither had 
 he done so at the time when this chapter takes 
 tip the story. He had, at first, comforted him- 
 self, as has been stated, by the reflection that 
 the Princess was a proud girl, and would be 
 anxious not to show, on their first meeting at 
 the Court of Bussia, in the presence of so many 
 
IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 curious eyes, what her real feelings were. Fur- 
 ther thought almost proved to him that such 
 coldness, as she had shown, could not be attri- 
 buted to this cause. There was the marked 
 intention of receiving him as one who had been 
 a kind and obliging friend, while entirely ignor- 
 ing the existence of any other feeling than that 
 of friendship towards him. He would not go 
 near her now. He would distinguish himself in 
 some way. He would find, or make, a new 
 career; but it should not be as a mere servitor 
 of the Palace, that he would approach her. 
 While he was in that condition, he would keep 
 himself far away from her presence. When she 
 came to Court, as come she would, he would not 
 cease from the closest attendance upon his 
 Imperial Mistress, and would never deviate into 
 the crowd. 
 
 By what means should he distinguish himself 
 from the common herd ? His early training and 
 his later experience had made him think that the 
 surest mode of rising to power and influence in 
 Russia would be to gain political knowledge of 
 all kinds — to find out, and to be able to tell the 
 new Empress, what were the feelings of the 
 populace towards her — to discover, on their first 
 existence, conspiracies, if any such should be 
 foi-med, — and, in fact, to make himself a trusted 
 supporter of the new order of things, rather than 
 a mere appendage to the imperial household. 
 
 With this view, what was more necessary, 
 what could be more useful, than to maintain lus 
 present relations with Aara? It had always 
 been known to the Duke of Courland, and there- 
 fore to his private Secretary, how much informa- 
 tion that might be useful to the government, 
 was possessed by these wandering tribes of 
 
IVAN'S AMBITION. 223 
 
 gypsies. It was not without iutention, though 
 hardly confessed to himself,' that the Duke, on 
 that eventful evening which preceded the last 
 day of his regency, had condescended to have 
 his fortune told, for the chance of hearing some- 
 thing which, to his apprehensive miud, might 
 convey political intelligence. 
 
 Moreover,' Ivan had recently learnt to appre- 
 ciate the gypsy knowledge of coming events, 
 (not altogether of a prophetic character,) from 
 the information which Azra had, from day to 
 day, given him during the last few weeks of the 
 Duchess Regent^s tenure of power. 
 
 Thus Ivan reasoned with himself, not telling 
 himself, however confidentially, that dearer, per- 
 haps, than the hope of getting any political 
 information, was the longiug to retain the 
 sympathy of Azra in the great trouble that beset 
 him. Then, too, it naturally followed that it was 
 very desirable, as he said to himself, that Azra 
 should be taught to write, in order that informa- 
 tion might be promptly conveyed to him, when 
 he could not receive it in person. 
 
 Thus there was scarcely a day in which Azra 
 did not come to see her friend ; and, as he might 
 now be called, her instructor. She had never 
 told him that she had been to see the Princess 
 Marie. This concealment was founded upon no 
 motive of self-seeking, or of jealousy; but she 
 feared, in his present state of feeling towards the 
 Princess, to tell him what she had done; and she 
 also feared that, in his anger at what he would 
 conceive to have been ^a step derogatory to 
 him, even though he had not prompted it, she 
 would be dismissed for her interference, and 
 would not be allowed to see him again. Poor 
 child, for almost " child " she was, except for the 
 
224 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 grown-up gypsy cunning which had been im- 
 pressed upon her by the elders of her tribe, she 
 had made up her mind, or rather we may say 
 her heart, to devote herself to the reconcilement 
 of the lovers. 
 
 The first barrier had for some time been 
 broken down which had prevented Ivan, accord- 
 ing to the natural reticence of a lover, from 
 talking to another person of his love. It was 
 now a subject which far more frequently occu- 
 pied the talk of Ivan with Azra, than did the 
 rumours of latent conspiracies, or the pressing 
 cares of tuition. 
 
 Previously to the commencement of a conversa- 
 tion about to be narrated, between Ivan and the 
 gypsy girl, she had received a short lesson in 
 writing. Ivan, absorbed as he was in the pro- 
 found love he felt for the Princess Marie, — 
 feeling, as regards all other women, (so, at least, 
 he always told himself) that they were but mere 
 images, or at best, pale reflections of her, — still 
 could not help noticing how very graceful Azra 
 was, even when engaged in this ungainly task of 
 learning to write. He thought of his young 
 sisters far away in Courland, whom he loved 
 veiy much. He had seen them taught to write 
 and to draw, and remembered how he had joked 
 with them about their awkward gestures, and 
 their mode of sitting at the table, while they 
 were being taught. There was that flexible 
 grace about whatever Aara did, which abso- 
 lutely forbade her being awkward on any 
 occasion. 
 
 Ivan, indeed, was wont to say to himself that 
 Azra was as graceful as a fish — an odd simile ; but 
 one, the general idea of which had often occurred 
 to him during those listless, unhappy hours 
 
AZUA LEARNS TO WRITE. 325 
 
 of exile, when lie would stand upon one of the 
 bridges of the Tavda, and, in its clear waters, 
 follow the movements of those creatures, which 
 are perhaps, the most graceful in the world, 
 though their grace has, hitherto, been scarcely 
 recognized, even by poets. 
 
 At a pause in the lesson, Azra had mentioned 
 the name of the Princess Marie, saying how she 
 had seen her, with her father, going to a great 
 party, and how sad she looked. 
 , ''I tell you, Azra, she behaved cruelly, 
 wickedly, worse than wickedly, ungratefully, to 
 me." 
 
 " Perhaps, my little father, you do not quite 
 understand the ways of women.^' 
 
 " Oh yes ; when people behave very wickedly, 
 one always hears that one does not understand 
 them. If one were to be half-devoured by 
 wolves, and were to make any objection to the 
 proceeding, I suppose it would be said by other 
 wolves, that one did not understand the kind 
 intentions of their brethren. Now, do not make 
 these foolish excuses, Azra. Ton women cling 
 together, and always justify one another." 
 
 " I did not know that it was so. It isn't so in 
 our tribe. Maohetta is always saying unkind 
 things of me, and foUoWs me about like a watch- 
 dog ; and I don't love her, I can tell you." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Ivan, not oaring to answer 
 Azra's remark, " that pompous fool, her princely 
 father, has something to do with it. He thinks 
 he is going to be a great man again ^t Court. 
 He was glad enough to have me as a serf, when 
 we were in Siberia — and, for the matter of that, 
 I was glad enough to be that serf. But that's 
 aU over now." 
 
 It may be remembered that the Prince, 
 
 Q 
 
226 IVAN DE £ IRON 
 
 a most courteous gentlemaiij had been veiy 
 gracious to Azra^ when lie found her in his 
 daughter's apartment ; so Azra, with her honest 
 nature, could not but speak in his favour. 
 
 " He is a very good and kind man, Ivan, and 
 would not harm anybody." 
 
 " How should you know anything about him, 
 Azra?" 
 
 Azra felt her blood mount to her face, per- 
 ceiving how near she had been to betraying the 
 fact of her visit to the Princess ; but Ivan did 
 not notice her confusion, as she replied : 
 
 " Oh we gypsies know something about most 
 of your great men ; and he never gives less than 
 three roubles when we sing before his palace." 
 
 " When he orders, as I have no doubt he has 
 ordered, that I shall not be admitted there," 
 replied Ivan, "I might suppose that it was 
 ungrateful on his part ; but it would, of course, 
 only be that I do not understand his pecuhar 
 princely mode of expressing gratitude. And his 
 daughter is — a worthy daughter of such a 
 father." 
 
 While the conversation had thus proceeded, 
 Azra had risen from her chair, and was, almost 
 unconsciously, practising the first steps of that 
 most exquisite of dances, the Spanish bolero, as 
 frequently and as well danced in Eussia, at that 
 period, as in Spain. 
 
 She ceased to dance. Advancing towards 
 Ivan, she held up her finger in the impressive 
 manner that she had copied from the elder 
 women of her tribe, and thus addressed him. 
 " Listen, my Httle father, to a story which I wiU 
 teU you — a true story, which our good chief 
 often teUs us, when we sit round the fire at 
 night, out in the woods. We are not always 
 
AZRA LEARNS TO WRITE. 227 
 
 here, you know : we like the woods near Moscow 
 better, where the sun is warm sometimes. 
 
 " There was once a gypsy, not of our tribe — a 
 bad man, — oh so bad, so very bad. He never 
 did what the chief told him to do, and when he 
 got anything, he kept it to himself, and would 
 not shard it with others, and was not hungry 
 when they were hungry, and laughed when they 
 were sad, and made friends with the Starosts of 
 the villages, and told wicked lies about his tribe 
 to them, and they gave him as much vodki as he 
 could drink. And this bad man, one day, found 
 a large bag of gold in a hole at the root of a 
 great tree — oh, so large, so large, that he could 
 hardly carry the bag ; but he stole away with it 
 into Moscow and dressed himself as a great 
 Lord, and bought serfs, and lived in a house 
 with windows to it. 
 
 "But he was very miserable. You should 
 hear our chief tell how miserable he was. And 
 the disease of the rich man came upon him, and 
 he could not sleep in his palace at nights, and he 
 was too proud, now that he was a great lord, to 
 come out into the big forest and sleep like a 
 good gypsy. And he died of the rich man's 
 disease, and the gypsies would not bury him 
 with the sacred songs, for he was a very bad 
 
 gypsy-" 
 
 Ivan could not help smiling, as he did not 
 fail to perceive what was the moral of this story, 
 as told by the lips of a gypsy chief — signifying 
 what evil must come to a gypsy who did not 
 share his good luck with his fellows. 
 
 He merely said "It is a very pretty story, 
 Azra, and doubtless quite true } but I do not see 
 why you tell it me now, or what particular 
 comfort it should give me." 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " Ah, you would not wait/' she said. " Tou 
 are too impatient. Listen, listen/' she said 
 agaia, holding up her finger, in the same im- 
 pressive manner which she had used before. 
 " This is what our chief always says, after he has 
 told us this story. ' My children these great 
 gifts are from the Bad Spirit ; and the promises 
 which his red gold holds out, are as false as the 
 first words of a young girl when her lover, whom 
 she loves, asks her whether she loves him.' 
 
 " And then aU our young men laugh, and they 
 sing in chorus : 
 
 They say not what they mean, and they mean not what 
 
 they say, 
 For when they say " No," it does not mean nay, 
 And when they say " Go," it means you must stay. 
 
 Ivan laughed heartily, but was not much 
 consoled by this gypsy refrain, thinking 
 that there was but little resemblance between 
 the nature and the ways of gypsy girls, and 
 those of the Princess Marie Anci-eevna Serba- 
 tofi'. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE PRINCESS MAEIE STUDIES MUSIC WITH AZEA THE 
 
 DESIGN OP THE PEINCESS FOE THE GOOD OP IVAN. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Princess Marie seemed 
 to have abandoned all thoughts of love, and 
 to be solely devoting herself to the cultivation 
 of music. The first master in St. Petersburg, 
 Herr Schmalder, was in constant attendance 
 upon her; and she contrived that Azra should 
 frequently be present when his lessons were 
 given. Occasionally, too, it was found to be 
 desirable that Azra should take a part; and 
 the Princess listened with delight, when the 
 master dwelt with pleasure upon the rich and 
 wonderful voice of Azra, which, as he said, 
 with the honesty belonging to great artists, 
 only wanted the cultivation which the Princess 
 possessed, to become superior to hers, and, 
 indeed, to be one of the most notable in Europe. 
 The Princess must have made a great conquest 
 of Azra's affections; for she succeeded in per- 
 suading her to adopt another kind of costume 
 
230 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 than that which gypsies held to be something 
 sacred to them. A change of dress was always 
 kept at the Serbatoff Palace; and Aara ap- 
 peared at these lessons as a young friend of the 
 Princess's. 
 
 The Prince himself was, also, often present, 
 and welcomed Azra as if she had been one of the 
 family. Not unskilled in diplomatic craft, he 
 was but a poor observer of all that went on in 
 his own household. Otherwise, if he had cared 
 to study the characters of those who were not 
 official or diplomatic persons, he would have 
 been greatly amused and interested by the 
 singular contrast which these two young women 
 presented. Azra's character was one of the 
 simplest that can be imagined. She was an 
 adept in gypsy arts : she knew how to ferret 
 out that information which was so useful to 
 her tribe ; but she herself remained a creature 
 of utter simplicity. 
 
 The same phenomenon maybe observed through- 
 out mankind. There are even statesmen, and 
 what are called men of the world, who never lose 
 this original and almost indestructible quality of 
 mind — simplicity. The world is not slow to 
 appreciate the fact; and, in estimating the 
 characters of those who come most before it, 
 is wont to bestow much favour upon those 
 notable persons who possess this enviable sim- 
 plicity, and its almost invariable accompaniment, 
 singleness of purpose. 
 
 The Princess Marie, on the contrary, was a 
 person of great complexity of nature, much 
 given to introspection, and to diversity of plan 
 and purpose. What was at present uppermost 
 in her thoughts, was to do something which 
 should be very grand and noble, to make an 
 
IHE PRINCESS STUDIES MUSIC. 231 
 
 immense self-sacrifice, and tlms, at the cost of 
 her own happiness, to , ensure the welfare of the 
 man whom she tenderly and truly loved. 
 
 Having this in view, she resolved that Azra 
 should he made a worthy wife for Ivan. She 
 had noticed when Azra sang the solo at the ball 
 given at the Winter Palace, what great musical 
 powers the girl possessed, and what effect had 
 been produced upon that critical audience. 
 
 This was a sufficient basis for the Princess to 
 construct her plan upon. Azra was to become a 
 great singer j and, by cultivation of various kinds, 
 was to be made in every respect worthy of Ivan's 
 love. That love was to be transferred from the 
 Princess to the gypsy girl. This, of course, was 
 an easy part of the project in the mind of the 
 scheming Princess. 
 
 So subtly are we formed, that minor parts of 
 our character often make, or mar, our greatest 
 resolves. The Princess was exceedingly fond 
 of management. Even during her earliest years, 
 the serfs on her father's estate had found out, 
 with that knowledge of the character of their 
 superiors which serfdom or slavery always brings, 
 that to ensure a compliance with any petition 
 they might make to the Prince, it was very 
 requisite to gain the concurrence of the little 
 Princess, Marie Andreevna. That gained, there 
 was almost a certainty of success. Her sojourn 
 in Siberia, when she had been the chief stay and 
 support of the household, had not weakened her 
 power, or made her less fond of laying down 
 plans for managing other people. Over Ivan she 
 had ruled imperiously. Not that he was other- 
 wise than a person of very strong and decided 
 character; but men in love are apt to be very 
 malleable; and Ivan often smiled to himself as 
 
232 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 lie perceived how dexterously the Princess en- 
 deavoured to manage him, and how skilfully he 
 contrived that she should have her way. Perhaps 
 she would have been fonder of him, but this he 
 little thought, it' he had shown more plainly the 
 real sternness and resoluteness of his nature. 
 
 One of the many lessons of music at which 
 Aara was allowed to assist, had concluded. 
 Herr Schmalder, during this lesson, had been 
 especially loud in praise of the quality of voice 
 which the Princess's "little friend" possessed. 
 He had said " what a happy man he should be, if 
 any of his daughters had such a voice, and were 
 capable of being taught how to use it." 
 
 It has always been a question whether the 
 enjoyment of an art is increased, or lessened, by 
 much knowledge of it — whether, for instance, the 
 comparatively ignorant bystander, if his soul be 
 musical, may not have a keener, if not a more pro- 
 found, enjoyment even of a masterpiece of music 
 than any of those who can, with adequate skill, 
 bring it ijito life-like execution. However this 
 nice question may be determined for the gene- 
 rality of persons, it certainly would have been 
 difficult to find any human being who was more 
 transported by music than this gypsy girl, whose 
 knowledge, as yet, of music, was of the rudest 
 kind. 
 
 But music, for her, transfigured aU she saw. 
 While listening to such an artist as the Princess, 
 Azra was carried away, as it were, into 
 regions of thought and feeling, which, at other 
 times, were vex'y remote indeed from her. Like 
 most uncultivated people, both her thoughts and 
 her talk were confined to subjects of which she 
 had practical knowledge — to those things which 
 she had seen and heard, and to simple deductions 
 
THE PRINCESS STUDIES MUSIC. 23s 
 
 from the humblest experiences. It was rarely 
 that she deviated into any remark of a general 
 or abstract nature. 
 
 When speaking, however, of music, she became 
 not only eloquent, but imaginative, and, we may 
 almost say, prophetic. 
 
 She would tell the Princess, who listened to 
 her with astonishment, that music was in its 
 infancy. " A time wiU come, dear Princess, when 
 it will conquer all the nasty bad things in the 
 world. There will be no knout, no cutting off of 
 heads. You will all love even us poor gypsies ; 
 and the good Heaven, our dear old chief tells us 
 of, will be on earth for us, for you, for everybody.. 
 Oh yes, it will. I can foresee it." 
 
 The Princess, smiling, would ask whether this 
 fortunate " everybody " would be sure to love the 
 every other right body who could respond to its 
 love? 
 
 "Yes, yes," Azra would reply, with a sigh. 
 " It would be all right then. No. I do not know. 
 No it won't. All people will love you. Princess, 
 because you sing so beautifully." 
 
 " Then, my dear Azra, there will still be some 
 unhappy people in the world, for I cannot love 
 everybody in return, you know." 
 
 Then the two girls would laugh, and Azra 
 would come down from her poetic flights, andL 
 talk in her usual childish fashion, of the most 
 trifling things that she had seen or heard that 
 day. 
 
 Returning to what took place after the music 
 lesson which had just been concluded, Herr 
 Schmalder had scarcely left the room, when 
 the Princess began to talk with Azra in a strain 
 of unusual earnestness. 
 
 "My dear Azra," she said, "you hear what 
 
234 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Schtnalder says. It is too absurd that you 
 should not make use of a gift which God has 
 given you so liberally." 
 
 " I do, I do," replied Azra, " I am only afraid 
 that Lenchen and Machetta will hate me more 
 than "they do, because our chief wiU. make me 
 sing at the feasts of you great people." 
 
 "But the world, the whole world, my dear 
 Azra, might be made to listen to you. The 
 Prima Donna of St. Petersburg is nothing com- 
 pared to you, if you did but know how to manage 
 that sweet voice of yours. You hear, I say, what 
 Schmalder says, and he is no flatterer: he does 
 not pretend that I am your equal, only that I 
 know better what to do with my inferior voice." 
 
 " Oh, it is beautiful," exclaimed Azra. " I feel 
 as if I were not in this world when you sing, 
 dearest Princess." 
 
 The Princess looked full in Azra's face. If 
 there was anything in this world she detested, it 
 was flattery; but she saw that Azra^s words 
 were from the heart, and she smiled to her- 
 self as she thought how disproportionate an 
 effect her mere skill in singing could produce 
 upon this comparatively untutored child. She 
 thought, too, with somewhat of vanity, how both 
 these "children" (so she was pleased to name 
 them in her thoughts,) Azra and Ivan were ia 
 her hands, and how she could mould them, 
 exactly as she pleased, to suit her own purposes. 
 
 "Ivan de Biron," she said in a careless 
 m.annerj " was always very fond of singing. He 
 used to be greatly pleased with my poor attempts; 
 for poor I declare they are, m.y little one, when 
 compared with yours." 
 
 Azra now thought that she had an opportunity 
 of saying a good word for Ivan. Though she 
 
THE PRINCESS MARIE AND AZRA. 235 
 
 had become attached to the Princess, it was the 
 hope of advocating Ivan's cause that had been 
 Azra's first motive in coming to the palace of the 
 Serbatoffs; and she resolved to be true to her 
 original intention. 
 
 " Oh ! Princess/' she said, "if I might but tell 
 you : — ^if you would but listen to me, when I say 
 how much he loves you. We gypsy girls don't 
 understand you great ladies. Ah me, if I had 
 such a lover, and if I were a Princess, I would go 
 away with him and be his, though he were only a 
 poor gypsy youth." 
 
 " No doubt you would, my dear Azra. But we 
 have a saying borrowed from the French, from 
 whom we borrow most things, and it says 
 Noblesse oblige. Translated into Russian, dear, 
 it means that there can never be anything 
 between your Ivan and the Princess Marie 
 Andreevna Serbatoff." 
 
 " Tour Ivan ! He is not mine, dear Princess. 
 No loving thought of his ever wanders to me. 
 I am as a serf to him, his and yours — sometimes 
 useful to him, sometimes pleasing to him, but 
 never loved. Ivan has but one love, and that is 
 wholly given away. Oh that you could return 
 his love, I should then be so happy." 
 
 The Princess smiled again, " So happy, Azra, 
 is that quite truthful ?" 
 
 Azra answered truthfully, or at least believed 
 that she did so, when she repUed. "Yes, it 
 would be the greatest happiness in my Ufe." 
 
 " What should you say, Azra, if we were to ask 
 him some day to come and join us at our lessons ? 
 Do you think he would come t" 
 
 "Tes, he would. I know he would, even if 
 we were at that Pelem, and he was in the big 
 town of France where the king lives. I know he 
 would." 
 
2.36 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 "Then he shall come; and you shall invite 
 him, Azra." 
 
 After this permission had been given, Azra 
 took her departure, and hastened to announce 
 the good news to Ivan. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 A MCSIC-LESSON AT THE SEEBATOFP PALACE. 
 
 The joy of Ivan was unbounded when 
 Azra brought him the invitation to be present at 
 the next music-lesson, from the depths of 
 despair he wa? raised to the heights of hope. 
 His first thought then, as he said to himself, was 
 the true and the right one, — that before others, 
 in a crowded ball-room, she was designedly and 
 studiously cold ; but that now their old iatimacy 
 was to be renewed. 
 
 How slowly the minutes sped for him, and 
 how he hated the sluggish march of time during 
 the three days that had to elapse before the 
 next singing lesson at the Serbatoflf Palace ! He 
 reckoned the number of those minutes, and told 
 them off as they passed away, as children at 
 school do when the holidays are almost in 
 sight. 
 
 These same minutes passed but slowly. too 
 for the Princess Marie. Her soul was vexed by 
 irreconcileable emotions ; and when there is much 
 
238 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and various thought, time passes but slowly: 
 days may appear to extend into months of life. 
 The resolute woman was not always resolved: 
 her thoughts wavered to and fro, now spell- 
 bound by love, now governed by what she held 
 to be the dictates of common sense, strengthened 
 by her determined idea of self-sacrifice. Finally 
 her first determination prevailed. She could 
 not, and she would not, be his. 
 
 A woman can express much of her mind by 
 her mode of dress, which often speaks a language 
 unknown to the other sex. The Princess 
 dressed herself for this lesson, with great care, 
 and with a richness not very suitable to the 
 occasion. But she desired as much as possible 
 to dissociate the Princess Marie Andreevna 
 Serbatoff, so far as change of dress could effect 
 the object, from her former peasant self, and so 
 to signify to Ivan the change that he was to 
 believe had taken place in her mind. What had 
 been intimated in the ball-room was now to be 
 confirmed. There was to be a complete effacement 
 of those times when they were wont to sit side 
 by side together in the forest of Pelem ; when 
 the contention was on her part to be allowed to 
 do her share of the hard work ; and when, too, 
 as she blushed to think, very loving tokens of 
 regard had, once or twice at least, been ex- 
 changed between them. 
 
 Azra came early to attend the music-lesson. 
 ' The Princess had taken care not to be alone 
 when Ivan should arrive. She need not have 
 taken this precaution; for Ivan, proud as her- 
 self, would not anticipate the hour of their 
 meeting : and when he did arrive, Herr Schmal- 
 der was in the room which, shortly afterwards, 
 Prince Serbatoff entered. 
 
A MUSIC-LESSON. 239 
 
 Meanwhile the Princess welcomed Ivan to her 
 boudoir. And how did she receive him? As 
 before, with the perfection of friendliness, but 
 with refined and nice discretion. There is even 
 something different between the welcome a girl 
 gives to her brother, or her much-regarded 
 cousin, and that which she bestows upon a much 
 liked friend (not a lover) of her own age — 
 perhaps her brother's friend. The warmest of 
 such friendly welcomes was given to Ivan. In 
 all ages, even when people talk most loudly of 
 the decline of the Drama, there are stiU good 
 actors on the stage ; but^ in all ages, the best, 
 the most consummate acting, has been off the 
 stage. 
 
 The lesson commenced. The principal person- 
 age was to be the Princess, and she did not 
 dwarf her part. She sang well : indeed she 
 sang her best. She did not condescend to little 
 arts; and, moreover, she was aware that Ivan 
 knew well what her musical powers were. At 
 the same time she knew how far, as regards the 
 natural gifts for song, Azra surpassed her. She 
 knew, too, how the approval of others enhances, 
 and often indeed reveals the merits of those 
 whose excellence we have before but carelessly, 
 if at all, observed. She meant that Ivan should 
 fully understand and appreciate the great gifts of 
 Azra as a songstress. 
 
 Even as regards dress, she had been as careful 
 for Azra as she had been for herself; and it had 
 been a pretty and touching sight, which presented 
 itself in the half-hour before Ivan arrived, while 
 the loving woman (almost unconsciously we 
 speak of the Princess as a woman, and of Azra 
 as a girl), was seeking to make her young rival 
 appear to the utmost possible advantage. 
 
MO IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Tte Princess, as it has been said, sang well. 
 It must have been better than usual, for she 
 received warm praise from Herr Schmalder, a 
 ■cold man, very little given to praise, and utterly- 
 indifferent to the rank or station of his pupils. 
 Indeed, Herr Schmalder would not have honoured 
 the greatest lady in St. Petersburg, hardly even 
 the Empress herself, by his teaching, if he had 
 perceived no germs of talent in her. He had, 
 been the singing-master of the Empress; and 
 certain rude speeches of his to his Imperial pupil 
 were well known at Court. 
 
 " Upon my word it was excellent," he ex- 
 claimed, ' ' I am very proud of you. Princess (he 
 had never said that to her before), and I am sure 
 the Prince must be so, too." 
 
 The Princess began to fear, lest, in her desire 
 to be true to her part, she had gone beyond it, 
 and she felt somewhat anxious as to whether 
 Azra would fulfil her expectations. 
 
 Azra was now invited, and indeed pressed, to 
 sing. Herr Schmalder, not understanding any 
 of the bye-play that was being enacted before 
 him, was astonished at Azra's reluctance. The 
 gypsy girl had hitherto been utterly free from 
 any bashfulness ; and had always done at once, 
 and with her best endeavour, whatever Herr 
 Schmalder had desired her to do. He thought, 
 poor innocent man, that Azra was afraid of the 
 Prince; and, as the great musician had the 
 utmost contempt for the Prince's scant knowledge 
 of music, he was somewhat indignant that any 
 one who had ventured to sing before him, great 
 in Vienna, renowned in Paris, the best teacher, 
 as he thought himself, in the world (with the 
 exception of Porpora) should care about the 
 approval, or disapproval, of an ordinary Eussian 
 
A MUSIC-LESSON. z^z 
 
 Prince ; a species of well-bred savage, as, in the 
 pride of art, Herr Schmalder deemed him to 
 be. 
 
 The maestro scolded Azra romidlyj and, as if 
 to pmdsh her, chose one of the most difficult 
 works to execute which could have been put 
 before any beginner. She had, however, been 
 tried in it before. He knew, therefore, that she 
 could do it admirably. And so she did. The 
 very confidence which, arising from her simpli- 
 city, the gypsy girl generally manifested in her 
 singing, was broken down on this occasion j and 
 there was a certain exquisite tremulousness 
 brought into play, which had never been known 
 in her singing on any previous occasion. 
 
 The success was very great. The Prince was 
 in ecstasies ; and Herr Schmalder threw from his 
 forehead, with both hands, his large masses of 
 unkempt hair, which with lum was a sign of the 
 utmost approval. 
 
 The eyes of the Princess and of Azra turned 
 to the countenance of Ivan. In it there was 
 astonishment, there was approbation; but both 
 of the girls felt that Ivan was less charmed than 
 either of the other by-standers. He, alone, ex- 
 pressed a wish for the Princess to sing again. 
 She resolutely declined, saying that, after such 
 singing as Azra's, it was but cruel kiniaess to 
 her, to ask her to display her manifest inferiority. 
 At this moment she had her arm round Azra's 
 slender waist, and was regarding her with much 
 fondness. The Princess had now thrown herself 
 fully into her part, and for the moment was a 
 devotee to Azra. In truth she was a little angry 
 with Ivan for his not sympathizing with her in 
 her admiration of the gypsy girl. 
 
 The music-lesson degenerated into a conversa- 
 
 B 
 
242 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 tion about music, occasionally varied by the 
 maestro's making Azra repeat, after instructions 
 given by himself, certain parts of the concerted 
 piece in which she had so distinguished herself. 
 And then Herr Schmalder, whose minutes were 
 very precious, and who could not outstay his 
 time, took his leave. The Princess, by some 
 slight indication, conveyed to Azra that she also 
 should leave the room. 
 
 Then the Princess, after much praise of Azra's 
 singing, in which she was heartily seconded 
 by her father, began to speak with him about 
 Ivan's future career. 
 
 " You know, dear father, how good he was to 
 us when we were in Siberia. Our fires would 
 not have cheered us at eventime, if it had not 
 been for him. We can never do enough to show 
 our gratitude to this true friend.'" 
 
 Ivan absolutely loathed this kind of conversation, 
 occurring, too, in his presence; but the old courtier, 
 on the contrary, revelled in it. It gave him an op- 
 portunity for displaying all his worldly wisdom ; 
 and, with advice not far different fi"om that of 
 Polonius, did he show most iadisputably how Ivan 
 was to rise at Court, to which altitude the Prince 
 would give his best aid to raise him. His Excel- 
 lency entered minutely into the character of their 
 present Empress ; and Ivan, even while he could 
 hardly master his disgust at "being treated as 
 he was by the Princess, could not help being 
 somewhat amused by the real skill which the 
 Prince manifested in delineating a character 
 which, as His Excellency thought, was worthy of 
 the utmost and most minute investigation. Of the 
 feelings of thoSe persons who surrounded him 
 during that hour of the music-lesson, and of the 
 play (tragedy, or comedy, it would be difficult to 
 
A MUSIC-LESSON. 243 
 
 say which), that had been enacted before him, 
 the Prince was , profoundly unobservant and 
 unconscious ; but he knew well the characters of 
 his colleagues, and of his Imperial Mistress ; 
 and not the slightest of their gestures, or their 
 expressions, was ever lost upon him. 
 
 Ivan lingered on j but if he did so with a hope 
 of being, for a moment, alone with" the Princess, 
 he was much mistaken in that hope. The old 
 courtier was in his proper element. He was 
 showing aUke his gratitude and his sagacity; 
 and, if Ivan had stayed for another hour, the 
 Prince would hardly have desisted from making 
 the most of an opportunity, so welcome to him, as 
 that of instructing a young man, a very excellent 
 young man, in the sure art, sure at least to those 
 who know how to make good use of it, of rising 
 at Court. 
 
 There were one or two sayings uttered by the 
 Prince which much impressed Ivan at the time, 
 and which, long afterwards, lingered in his 
 memory. "The greatest man of this age, my 
 young friend, would be the man who should 
 know everything, and yet hold his tongue." 
 
 Doubtless, the word 'everything' meant every- 
 thing at Court or connected with Government, 
 which, according to this accomplished courtier, 
 was the only knowledge upon earth worth having. 
 
 Another of the Prince's sayings was " Above 
 all things, do not be anxious to shine : if shine 
 you must, let it be in broad dayHght, not when 
 aU around you is dark. The glowworm has the 
 shortest life of all insects." 
 
 The Prince may have been inaccurate in his 
 natural history; but his maxim is not in other 
 respects untruthful. The German poet Pfeffel 
 
 B 2 
 
244 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 lias given an exquisite fable to the same 
 effect : — 
 
 The toad spat all his venom at a glow-worm. 
 "What have I done to you?" asks the poor 
 worm. " Why did you shine ? " was the toad^s 
 reply.* 
 
 When Ivan moved to go away^ the Prince 
 moved too, and accompanied him even to the 
 door of the palace, shaking hands warmly with 
 him, reiterating scraps of sound and wholesome 
 advice, and saying what pleasure it would give 
 him to be of any service to his young friend. 
 
 The previous parting between the Princess 
 and Ivan was also most friendly, "odiously 
 friendly," was Ivan's bitter thought. How much 
 can be expressed in the shaking of hands ! It 
 can tell everything; and how infinitely various 
 it is ! — from the tremulous, faint, tender pressure 
 which physically is so slight, and metaphysically 
 so significant, to the warm, hearty, wholesome 
 pressure which means liking and friendship to 
 any extent ; but not love : no, not love, never 
 to be love. 
 
 It was this latter form which the Princess, not 
 perhaps with perfect success, strove to adopt at 
 this parting. 
 
 The Prince was a little deaf; and the Princess 
 without fear of being overheard, could say to 
 Ivan as they parted, " It can never be ; no, dear 
 
 *ein 3o^anni«B)urm(^en faf , 
 ©cineg ©entantf^eins 
 Unbewuf t, im wcn^en ®ro« 
 eine« ei^en^ains. 
 
 Seise fcpc^ ou« faulem SWoeg 
 Sic^ ein Ungetl^um, 
 
 ®ine .Rrote, l^er unb f4of 
 Sltt i^r @ifl na(i^ Vcjm. 
 
 "Slc^, toag ]|aB' icpir getl^on? " 
 
 Slief bet SBurm ^x ju. 
 
 " ®i," pjl^t \\fa. ba« Unt:^ie>: an, 
 
 "aBarutngtanjeftbu?" 
 
 ®. ^onr. spfeffel. 
 
A MUSIC-LESSON. 245 
 
 Ivan, it can never be." And, the moment after 
 she had spoken, she regretted, as being a failure 
 in the perfection of her acting, that she had said 
 " dear Ivan." He did not reply in words ; but 
 his reproachfal look — calm, indignant, and re- 
 proachful — was never effaced from the recollec- 
 tion of the Princess. 
 
 When alone, she did not endeavour to conceal 
 from herself her anguish of mind. No look, no 
 movement of his, save when she was singing, 
 had escaped her attention. There was a certain 
 gesture of his, when he was pleased, which was 
 well known to her. She had often playfully ridi- 
 culed him about it. When he was exceedingly 
 • pleased, he had a way of bringing his hands 
 together, and then spreading them out widely. 
 It was a gesture which he told her he had learnt 
 ■from his Italian mother in early childhood ; and, 
 though it was not in harmony with Eussian 
 manners, he had never been able to break him- 
 self of it. It dwelt upon the memory of the 
 Princess as she had seen it on an occasion very 
 memorable to her, when, in that wood at Pelem 
 (oh ! that she were there again !) he had de- 
 clared his love, and she had not denied hers. 
 
 In this trying hour which had just passed, she 
 had, almost involuntarily, looked for this gesture 
 of approval from Ivan. It had come after she 
 had siing ; it had not come after Azra had sung. 
 The Princess felt how large and deep must be 
 the prejudice of love when it could claim for her 
 that superiority of approval and of interest which 
 ought undoubtedly to have been given to Azra. 
 With that vast inconsistency which* even the 
 most persistent and resolute among us betray, 
 she had been dehghted, as she now owned to 
 herself, that this mark of approval had been 
 given to her rather than to the other. 
 
246 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " My own, my dearest, my best-beloved Ivan," 
 she exclaimed to herself, " you will yet become a 
 great man — ^the lord of many serfs mayhap ; and 
 how I envy the meanest of them, who, upon 
 some act of graciousness — for you will be very 
 gracious — ^has the joy and the dehght of kissing 
 your dear hand. Oh ! would I were that serf." 
 
 Meanwhile Ivan's hope had turned to the 
 blackest despair, the despair being only miti- 
 gated, if so it may be said, by fury at her attempt 
 to patronize him. Patronizing instead of loving! 
 there cannot be anything which would evoke 
 more indignation in the breast of a lover than 
 this substitution of patronage for love. 
 
 It would be idle to say how many times Ivan 
 repeated to himself the words of the Scriptures 
 " Put not your trust in Princes," and how bitterly 
 he arraigned the constitution of the world which 
 had, so fatally for him, as he thought, created 
 difference of rank amongst mankind. 
 
 Ivan's hope, raised as it had been by the 
 invitation to the Serbatoff Palace, had presented 
 to his mind an image as glowing and beautiful 
 as any gorgeous sunset ; and now it had vanished 
 as rapidly as that — ^the most fleeting pheno- 
 menon in nature. The lover calls his mistress 
 to the window, to partake his delight ; but when,, 
 hastening, she looks forth, it mostly haippens 
 that the glow has become faint, and the threaten- 
 ing clouds which made so large a part of the 
 past beauty, are beginning to resume the dul- 
 ness of their native colour. 
 
 The feelings of the Princess may best be 
 described by the word anguish: those of Ivan 
 by despair: those of Azra by bewilderment. 
 Her trained habits of observation had not been 
 
A MUSIC-LESSON. 247 
 
 laid aside during this important hour. Men 
 understand meuj women understood women, with 
 an understanding that is not vouchsafed to 
 persons of different sexes. One look — it was 
 but one — when the Princess with infinite but un- 
 consciously-exptessed tenderness, had gazed at 
 Ivan after she had sung her song, had not been 
 lost upon Azra. She wondered, with a wonder- 
 ment that found no explanation to diminish it, 
 how any woman could love a man so fondly, so 
 devotedly, as she felt the Princess loved Ivan, 
 and yet be cold to him, be merely friendly. And 
 Azra said to herself that there was a world of 
 thought and feeling among the great people of 
 the earth, which those of her despised birth and 
 breeding could not enter into, and could hardly 
 imagine. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
BOOK V. 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 A PRIMA DONNA AND HEE LOTEES. 
 
 The lives, even of adventurous men, move 
 with mucli uniformity. There may be great 
 mental changes, recognized, or not recognized, 
 by the men themselves ; but events of any signal 
 kind, are, for years together, not frequent even for 
 those whose lives are considered to be eventful. 
 And so it was with some of the principal person- 
 ages whose fortunes are related in this story. 
 
 Elizabeth's tenure of power, at first so dubious 
 and so liable to change, had now some firmness in 
 it. The foreign policy of Kussia was beginning 
 to be a subject of the gravest consideration for the 
 other European Powers ; and the home policy of 
 the new Czarina was impressed, as far as it could 
 be impressed by one mind combating against 
 many, with the most marked feature of her 
 character, — clemency : so that by writers of that 
 period she is justly spoken of as ' Elizabeth the 
 Clement.' 
 
 There was the usual waste of money, which, for 
 
252 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 one or two generationSj had been notably felt in 
 Russia. Elizabeth loved splendour of aU kinds, 
 and was devoted to the most expensive of all 
 tastes — that of building. It may be remarked 
 that, for the greater part of the eighteenth 
 century, there was a fearful propensity to ex- 
 travagant expenditure of every kind, at all the 
 principal courts of Europe — an expenditure which, 
 of itself, was sure to lead to great political 
 changes. This private expenditure, however, if 
 so it may be called, did not induce any parsimony 
 in the worst of all forms of public expenditure — 
 that of war. 
 
 Foreign warfare, except in its baneful effect of 
 increased taxation, does not much affect the lives 
 of ordinary citizens ; and so, comparing the first 
 years of Elizabeth's reign with the two or three 
 preceding years abounding in great domestic 
 events and startling revolutions, the time passed 
 tamely on in Eussia. Elizabeth was not vexed, 
 like her great English namesake, by the expres- 
 sion of an urgent wish on the part of her subjects 
 that she should marry, and thus provide a direct 
 heir to the throne. There probably never was a 
 female sovereign who was less favourably dis- 
 posed to marriage than Elizabeth of Russia. 
 
 The succession to the throne was carefiiUy pro- 
 vided for, the Empress choosing her nephew 
 Peter, the Duke of Holstein, as her successor. 
 She afterwards married him to the beautiful 
 and accomplished Catharine, Princess of An- 
 haltzerbst, — little imagining, that by so doing she 
 was practically ensuring a female succession to 
 the throne — a succession to be gained by murder. 
 
 Three or four years of this comparative 
 quiescence at the Russian Court had now elapsed ; 
 and, for the readers of this narrative, more interest 
 
A PRIMA DONNA'S LOVERS. 353 
 
 is to be found in what was taking place at Paris 
 tlian at St. Petersburg. 
 
 In a room, in one of tlie hotels of Paris, 
 there sat a lady and gentleman. The room was 
 handsomely furnished ; but there was noticeable 
 a certain carelessness, not to say untidiness, in 
 the way in which articles of dress and adornment 
 were strewn, about the apartment. Sheets of 
 music were scattered everywhere. Splendid 
 ornaments, some of them half in and half out of 
 their cases, were to be seen lying about, as if 
 they were unconsidered trifles. Silks and , 
 satins, and head gear of various kinds, were 
 also to be seen ; and the whole aspect of the 
 room created an impression that the owner of it 
 was rich, careless, and either very much ac- 
 customed, or very little accustomed, to the 
 splendour that surrounded her. 
 
 Her own dress conveyed the same idea. It 
 was magnificent, and yet betrayed an appear- 
 ance of negligence. She wore a long purple 
 velvet gown, confined by a girdle, seemingly of 
 emeralds set in gold, which, if it were real, must 
 have been of almost inestimable value. 
 
 She was a beautiful young woman, and 
 though small in stature, and of delicate fea- 
 tures, had an air of command which was in 
 strange contrast with this smalbiess and this 
 delicacy. Upon her countenance there was a 
 look of much determination, and yet of much 
 anxiety, as of one who was about to make a 
 great attempt, and would do so with all the 
 force that was ia her; but, at the same time, 
 was by no means sure of the result. She 
 seemed as if she were listening for something 
 or somebody; and her thoughts were evidently 
 far away from the present scene. 
 
254 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The countenance of her companion also be- 
 trayed anxiety-j though of a differetit kind. It 
 was a beseeching anxietjj and full of the present 
 moment. 
 
 When he spoke to her he called her " Dear- 
 est:" when she replied, she called him "Ba- 
 ron ; " and sometimes she failed to give the 
 proper answers to his questions. He spoke 
 of the past : her thoughts were evidently of 
 the future. There was an air of patronage 
 about her mode of dealing with the young 
 man. It could not be that she had the ' ad- 
 vantage' of him, as they say, in age, for he 
 was about twenty-eight years of age and she 
 twenty-four. 
 
 She had, too, the manner of a grcmde 
 dame, such as was to be seen in that age 
 renowned for grcmdes dames. And yet it coidd 
 hardly be said that she was "to the manner 
 born," but it was as if she played the part, 
 though playing it admirably. In her hand she 
 h.eld a tuning-fork; and more than once she 
 struck this upon the table, and listened carefully 
 to the sound. 
 
 The Baron was depreciating Paris — a theme 
 which was manifestly not very acceptable to 
 the lady. 
 
 " Our beautiful Neva ! " he exclaimed, " who 
 can compare this wretched muddy rivulet, the 
 Seine, with our Neva? Do you remember, 
 dearest, our first walk by star-light on its 
 banks near to the Church of St. Isaac's ? 
 Every word you then said dwells in my memory, 
 and ever wiU remain there." 
 
 " Yes, Baron," she listlessly rephed, " it was 
 a fearful time for both of us. Had I been 
 discovered, it would have been my death." 
 
A PRIMA DONNA'S LOVERS. 255 
 
 " You look ill, dearest/' lie replied " Oh ! 
 that I could do for you what you once did 
 for me! Why wDl you continue to slave in 
 this way, when there is no need for it ? " 
 
 ''Do not say that. There ie need for it, 
 and never more than to-day." 
 
 He took her left hand (he was sitting on 
 a sofa by her sid-e) and raised it to his lips. 
 She did not make any objection to this pro- 
 ceeding, but seemed to take it as a matter of 
 course; and, as he afterwards laid his hand 
 upon the table near her, she played upon it 
 with her fingers, evidently recalling some air; 
 for at the same time she struck the tuning- 
 fork, and softly sang this air. It was the 
 weU-known melody in the third act of Les 
 Indes Oalantes, a favourite opera • in those 
 days. 
 
 At this moment there was a knock " at the 
 street door, and then the Sound of ascending 
 foot-steps. The lady's colour went and came ; 
 and a deeper shade of anxiety overspread her 
 countenance. Whoever this was that was com- 
 ing up the stairs, he was either very dear to 
 her, or he brought news that would have 
 the deepest interest for her. 
 
 A servant announced 'Count Gluck;' and, 
 thereupon, a middle-aged man entered the room. 
 He was unmistakably a diplomatist, and there 
 was that look of fine observation, and even of 
 subtlety, which might be seen in most of the 
 diplomatists of that age, when diplomacy was 
 rather apt to degenerate into mere state-craft. 
 
 As the Count entered, the Baron's countenance 
 fell ; and a look of almost undisguised hatred sat 
 upon his face. Totally regardless of the young 
 man, Count Gluck advanced hastily to the lady. 
 
2S6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and whispered to her these words : " His Majesty 
 will come. It is all settled. He comes ia 
 State." 
 
 The lady's face became radiant with joy. 
 ''This is indeed, good news, Count Gluck. I 
 had hardly ventured to hope for such an 
 honour.'' 
 
 After this, the conversation deviated into the 
 ordinary topics of the day, such as the restora- 
 tion to health of the King, the new mode which 
 the Parisian ladies had adopted for dressing their 
 hair, and the like. Suddenly the lady asked: 
 "Is there any intelligence. Count, about that 
 man I told you of? Do the police know any- 
 thing?" 
 
 " Nothiug," Count Gluck replied. 
 
 " "What man ? " said the Baron. 
 
 "It is one," replied the lady, "who ever 
 haunts my steps — a gloomy-looking fellow, of a 
 swarthy hue, rather shorter than the ordinary 
 size of men, with a scar over his left eyebrow;, 
 and you can see that he is slightly lame when he 
 walks." 
 
 " You did not give me all these details before," 
 said the Count, who began to make a memoran- 
 dum of them at a writing-table, at the other end 
 of the room. Meanwhile the lady whispered to 
 the Baron : " Limbar, the man I told you of be- 
 fore, our old enemy. I shudder when I see that 
 man ; and he is always there." 
 
 Both the Baron and the Count endeavoured 
 to reassure the lady, declaring that they would 
 keep watch upon this man. Prom her de- 
 scription they would certainly be able to 
 detect his presence. The conversation then 
 languished. 
 
 The rivals, for such they were, endeavoured to 
 
A PRIMA DONNA'S LOVERS. 257 
 
 outstay one another, as is the wont of rivals in 
 Bucli cases. 
 
 The wily diplomatist, however, was the first to 
 go, for he soon perceived that it was the lady's 
 wish to be alone ; and he easily conjectured the 
 reason. It was his cue never to be tedious, or to 
 make his visits otherwise than most welcome. 
 When he had gone, the lady did not hesitate, 
 using the familiarity of an old friend, to bid the 
 other go. 
 
 "Tou see, my dear," she exclaimed (this was 
 the first time she had called him 'dear') "I have 
 not a moment to lose. Signer Scala is coming, 
 and I do liot feel at all sure of myself." The 
 young man reluctantly departed. 
 
 Alas for constancy ! Alas for truthfulness in 
 love ! The great lady was no other than the 
 gypsy girl Azra, the Baron no other than Ivan 
 de Biron. 
 
 Azra, in the course of the last few years, had, 
 in accordance with the plan so well-devised and 
 so well carried out by the Princess Marie, gone 
 upon the stage ; had become a prima donna ; had 
 enjoyed several triumphs at St. Petersburg,, 
 Moscow, and Vienna ; and was now to make her 
 debut before the critical audience of Paris. Ne 
 wonder that she was anxious ! No wonder that 
 she was delighted to hear that his Most Christian 
 Majesty, by means of the good Count Grluck's 
 persevering efforts at Court, would attend her 
 first performance ! and no wonder that she was 
 most desirous on this day to get rid of her 
 admirers, that she might devote herself to fre- 
 quent rehearsals of her part ! 
 
 To an unobservant person it might seem, that 
 Aara's nature was entirely altered; but it was 
 not so. Her character had always, been a very 
 
 s 
 
2S8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 simple one ; and the change was merely this — 
 that instead of greatly loving any human being, 
 she greatly loved her art, and was absorbed by 
 it. Those only who have swayed hundreds or 
 thousands of their fellow-beings by the magic 
 power of eloquent speech, or captivating song, 
 can realize what it is to meet the answering eyes 
 of all those faces directed towards them, and to 
 feel that each individual soul of the great 
 audience in front of them is moved by their 
 emotions, subdued by their thoughts, and led 
 into perfect harmony with them by the supreme 
 development of whatever thought or passion it is 
 their pleasure, for the moment, to evoke. Those 
 who have this rare power, whether they be great 
 speakers, or great singers, or great actors, seldom 
 care much for minor influences. Their love, if 
 love it may be called, is apt to be of a universal 
 character, and appeals not to any one person, but 
 to humanity in general. 
 
 And so it fared with Azra. She had at_ one 
 time loved, and loved, hopelessly, the first true 
 gentleman she had ever known. And this was 
 Ivan. But now he was, as it were, but 
 one of a crowd to her ; • and the renowned 
 songstress, who was also a great actress, could 
 hardly be said to love anything else but her 
 divine art. 
 
 And Ivan — the good and true Ivan, what had 
 become of his constancy of nature ? The Prin- 
 cess Marie had been but too skilful. Her plans 
 had but too well succeeded, and Ivan had, almost 
 unconsciously, succumbed to the attractions of 
 her rival. We are all largely influenced by the 
 effect of general approbation ; and often we only 
 then recognize the merits of those whom we have 
 lived with and seen ever so closely, when these 
 
A PRIMA DONNA'S LOVERS. 259 
 
 merits are brougM into full light by alien 
 applause. Hardly any distance renders vision so 
 dtill and makes the perceptive powers so feebly 
 apprehensive, as the fatal nearness of familiarity 
 can do. It was when Ivan ceased to see Azra 
 daily, and when she became the leading per- 
 sonage on ' the boards of the theatres of St. 
 Petersburg, Moscow, and Vienna, that he found 
 -out how beautiful, how charming, how adorable 
 she was. 
 
 Court favour in Russia, at that period, was a 
 plant of rapid though not of hardy growth. A 
 favoured courtier sprang forward, rather than 
 walked, towards the object of his ambition. 
 Thus, in the course of the last few years, Ivan de 
 Biron, who at first had held but an iaferior post 
 in the Imperial Palace, had attracted the notice, 
 and even the loving regard (so scandal un- 
 justly said) of the Empress Elizabeth ; and had 
 certainly become one of her most favoured 
 dependants. 
 
 His rise had been aided in no inconsiderable 
 degree by his own merits. The early training 
 he had received, had fitted him for the conduct 
 of great affairs ; and there were few men at the 
 Russian Court more capable of directing those 
 affairs, notwithstanding his comparative youth- 
 fulness, than Ivan de Biron. 
 
 s2 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE PEIMA donna's DEBUT IN PAEIS. 
 
 The second effort, when the first has 
 been successful, is the perilous one. The most 
 trying of aU rivals has then entered on the 
 scene, the image of one's former crowned self. 
 This is true, whether the effort be made in 
 speech, in poetry, ia song, or even, perhaps, 
 in some athletic achievement. 
 
 Her first appearance on the Parisian stage 
 was Azra's second effort. The audiences before 
 whom she had hitherto appeared, were some- 
 what similar — at any rate as regards the value 
 attached to them by great artists, for even 
 Vienna was not held to be equivalent in that 
 respect to Paris, which then, and long after- 
 wards, was the supreme arbiter in all matters of 
 taste. Moreover, Azra partook the feelings of 
 her race. Those cosmopolitan gypsies had a 
 great respect for, and fear of. Prance. Perhaps 
 it was that the laws respecting them were 
 stricter and more severely enforced in Prance 
 
THE PRIMA DONNA'S DEBUT. 261 
 
 than elsewliere. Eussia was, and is, a country 
 where all tribes may bivouac, as it were; no 
 tribe presuming to interfere with the despotic 
 government, or indeed, venturing to profess 
 any set of political opinions. 
 
 Azra, too, was well aware that her musical 
 education had not been of that finished kind 
 possessed by those who had hitherto acquired 
 Parisian celebrity. 
 
 Again, the occasion was a great one. The 
 King had not for some time favoured the Opera 
 with his royal presence ; and Louis the Fifteenth 
 was still Jjoms le Bien-cmne: 
 
 For two or three hours before the commence- 
 ment of the Opera, the avenues to the Opera- 
 House had been kept by the soldiery ; and even 
 Azra's servants, who had not known that it was 
 necessary! to obtain a pass, found considerable 
 difficulty in bringing their mistress's carriage to 
 the stage entrance. She had herself more than 
 once to explain to the officers on guard, who she 
 was ; and would not then have gained her point, 
 if the badness of her French had not gone far 
 to verify her statement. 
 
 The Prima Donna, as at least she hoped to 
 be, and certaiuly was for that occasion, arrived 
 at her dressing-room in a state of much agita- 
 tion. The enterprise seemed to be greater to 
 her than she had ever hitherto imagined it to 
 be ; and the resolute woman began to fear that 
 she should quail before the critical audience she 
 had now to encounter. Those terrors, which 
 had beset her when she first appeared on the 
 stage of St. Petersburg, in a part comparatively 
 inferior, were resumed, and, indeed, greatly 
 augmented, on this her first appearance at the 
 Grand Opera of Paris. 
 
262 IVAN JDE BIRON. 
 
 There is a proverb of some European nation, 
 wliicli says something of this kind : " The mess 
 is never eaten quite so hot as it was when it 
 left the kitchen " — a homely proverb, but a 
 consoling one. And it is especially true, when 
 the mess has been cooked by imagination, creat- 
 ing a heat which happily the reality never quite 
 equals. 
 
 Azra came upon the stage : and, after those 
 first few moments, when the heart beats so 
 violently that the voice cannot express itself, 
 during which the eyes refuse to see anything 
 distinctly, and all is wrapt in a mist of terror 
 and confusion, Azra began to resume somewhat 
 of her wonted presence of mind. 
 
 There was, however, a forced silence on her 
 part which lasted nearly two minutes, a period 
 that seemed to her almost an infinity of time. 
 The good-natured audience recognized her em- 
 barrassment, and filled up this ugly interval by 
 loud and continued plaudits. 
 
 It was the fashion in those days for people to 
 be punctual in their attendance at pubHc enter- 
 tainments ; and the King himself had arrived 
 before the curtain was drawn up. Lastly, to 
 add to the excitement, the Opera was somewhat 
 of a novelty. It had only been performed twice 
 in the course of the preceding year; and there 
 were many experienced connoisseurs who had 
 never heard it. 
 
 In the course of the first Act, it could only 
 be said that Azra was tolerably successful ; and 
 her success threatened to be of that somewhat 
 humiliating kind, so hateful to those who aim 
 at the first place, which is called a '' sMcces 
 d'esUme." The invention of this phrase, pecu- 
 liarly French, indicates how skilful the Parisians 
 are in criticism. 
 
THE PRIMA DONNA'S DEBUT. 263 
 
 During the interval between the first and 
 second acta, many a criticism was first started 
 by some connoisseur, and then passed on to the 
 receptive crowd, about a Gr in alto being defec- 
 tive, about a want of volume in the voice, and 
 about a fioritwra being happier in the design 
 than in the execution. There were those 
 who said that this was all very well for St. 
 Petersburg, but was not quite the thing for 
 Paris. , 
 
 Another remark was, moreover, made : but 
 chiefly by the ladies — that the dress was bizarre. 
 And indeed it was hizarre ; for Azra, with that 
 independence of nature which was peculiar to 
 her, had adopted a dress of her own for the 
 part. She had not had the prudence to ascer- 
 tain, and to imitate, the costume for her part 
 which had been adopted in the two previous 
 representations by her predecessor, and which 
 had, of course, followed French fashions. 
 
 It may be well, parenthetically, to mention 
 that whether, from their untraveTled simplicity, 
 their better taste, or their freedom from con- 
 ventionality, the Russian audiences were, ia fact, 
 better judges of costume than the Parisians. 
 
 Azra^s skiU iu dress was really exquisite ; and 
 she had hitherto followed that good rule of 
 taste which made her adopt, in aU cases, some 
 costume which was especially suitable to her 
 self. The Russians not only recognized this; 
 but they had been pleased and amused at the 
 gypsyness, as they had called it, which had 
 always been visible in Azra's costume. At first 
 she had come out with an Italian name, and 
 professing to be an Italian; but too many 
 persons had heard and seen her at the concerts 
 of Russian Princes, to be deceived by that 
 assumption of a foreign name. 
 
264 ' IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The second Act commenced. Azra was more 
 herself than she had been in the previous Act. 
 The King was seen gently to approve ; but this 
 gentleness of approval, for Louis held himself 
 to be a great connoisseur, was considered to 
 mean much. There were now some persons in 
 the audience, even amongst the learned, who 
 having Royalty on their side, ventured to main- 
 tain doctrines dififering from those of the more 
 critical connoisseurs about the " G ia alto and 
 the volume of the voice." Still it was not by 
 any means an acknoAjfledged or an assured 
 success ; and the great body of the audience 
 waited with an anxious and uncertain expecta- 
 tion as to what would be the result of the third 
 Act, in which a celebrated duet between the 
 Prima Donna and the first tenor was to be 
 sung. 
 
 We must pass, however, from their feelings 
 and expectations, to those of three persons who 
 were present in the Opera- House, and who took 
 a far deeper interest ia the proceedings than any 
 common spectator. These were Count Gluck, 
 Ivan de Biron, and Limbar the gypsy. 
 
 Count Gluck was exceedingly anxious as to 
 the result. That result for him would be failure, 
 if Azra failed. The astute diplomatist knew 
 that his chance of winning the love of Azra, 
 depended upon his furtherance of her success 
 as a great singer. No diplomatic effort of his 
 had been made with more art and skill than 
 that by which he had succeeded in inducing 
 Louis the Fifteenth to honour the opefa by his 
 presence, on this occasion. The Count, himself 
 a ■ good musician, had ventured in the least 
 marked manner (being most anxious that the 
 King should think the criticisms were his own). 
 
THE PRIMA DONNA'S DEBUT. 265 
 
 to point out passages wherein Azra had shown 
 the peculiar excellence of her voice or of her 
 genius as an actress. The Count felt what was 
 the nature, though he could not hear what was 
 the substance, of the remarks which were made 
 by the connoisseurs in the pit ; and, for the 
 moment, he almost regretted that he had given 
 so much time and thought to bringing the King 
 and the courtiers to the opera, and that he had 
 not previously had some dealings with the con- 
 noisseurs and with the formidable band of 
 ■claqueurs who were present. 
 
 Ivan's feelings were of a very different kind. 
 He was not at all disturbed by the adverse 
 criticism which, during the interval between the 
 first and second Acts, he had heard in his place 
 in the pit. ■ Though he would not have owned 
 this to any one else, he did not particularly 
 desire that Azra should be successful. He had 
 hitherto — ^with strange iaconsistency — at the 
 same time loved and loathed that success. Now, 
 as he told himself, he did anything .but long for 
 her success ; for he felt that if it were gained, 
 it would only remove Azra further and further 
 from him. Loving her, too, as he did, he viewed 
 with a fierce envy, quite needless if he had known 
 what great actresses and great singers feel, the 
 affectionate demonstrations which Azra, com- 
 pletely fulfilling her part in this respect, lavished 
 upon the first tenor, to whom she was not merely 
 supremely indifferent, but for whom she had a 
 positive dislike, seeing that he was a pedantic 
 kind of young man who had vainly sought to 
 uistruct her as to the dress and manner in which 
 she should perform her part; his notions of that 
 dress and manner having been impressed upon 
 him by the Prima Donna who had played the 
 same part in the preceding year. 
 
266 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Ivan, however, had little time or thought to give 
 to Azra's success or failure, or to the endearments 
 she might bestow upon her transitory stage- 
 lover. The words which Azra had said to him 
 respecting the gypsy, Limbar, dwelt in his mind. 
 He felt, with a kindred feeling, why it was that 
 this dangerous man had haunted her steps. 
 From the first moment of Ivan's entrance into 
 the theatre, his attention had been given to 
 ascertaining whether Limbar was present. He 
 could not find him anywhere. He searched the 
 pit : he looked over the boxes. There was no 
 Limbar there ; nor, indeed, as Ivan felt, was he 
 likely to be there. 
 
 The gallery in those days, when gas had not 
 been invented, was too obscure for Ivan to 
 recognize from a distance any countenance in 
 the motley assemblage gathered there. But, 
 between the acts, he had made his way to the 
 gallery, and had in vain sought to discover any 
 face which he could say was that of the gypsy. 
 Ivan, moreover, thought he knew the face, for 
 he too, in his frequent attendance while Aira 
 was playing at St. Petersburg and Moscow, had 
 not failed to notice this man. Ivan loved Azra 
 with a love greatly surpassing that of the courtier 
 and diplomatist. Count Gluck. Her apprehen- 
 sion of danger from Limbar had made a deep 
 impression upon Ivan ; and he feared for her 
 safety. Perhaps we should not do him wrong 
 in conjecturing that he imagined that if he could 
 render some signal service to Azra, such as the 
 prevention of any daring scheme that Limbar 
 might have in his wild mind to the detriment 
 of Azra, her old love for himself might be 
 renewed in all its former fulness and sincerity. 
 
 And what were Limbar' s thoughts? This 
 
THE PRIMA DONNA'S DEBUT. 267 
 
 savage lover had not followed Azra from place 
 to place witliout an object. He was desperate ; 
 and had resolved that he would at least be the 
 death of any favoured lover. Strangely enough, 
 his suspicions had not, fallen upon Ivan, upon 
 Count Gluck, or upon any other of Azra's 
 numerous admirers in the upper ranks of society. 
 Limbar, deceived by the mimic passions of the 
 stage, was ready to believe that Azra really 
 loved those whom the necessities of life upon 
 the stage compelled her to appear to love. 
 Narrowly had the jeunes premiers at St. Peters- 
 burg and Moscow escaped death at Limbar's 
 hands ; and it was only that knowledge which 
 the gypsies of that day, and perhaps of this, 
 possess of the real loves and likings which those 
 whom they watch, entertain, that had hitherto 
 preserved the Russian _/eMw.es ■premiers. 
 
 The third Act commenced. In the course of 
 this act the business of the stage made it neces- 
 sary that Azra should be very ardent in her 
 demonstrations of love to her then recovered 
 lover. And she did not underact her part. 
 Any rude, untutored mind might well believe 
 that she doated with a real aflfection upon the 
 hero of the stage. Limbar's feehngs of envy 
 and jealousy were excited to the uttermost. At 
 the end of that duet when Azra embraced and 
 clung about the beloved tenor, a pistol shot 
 resounded through the theatre. Azra was seen 
 to fall ; and was carried away bleeding from the 
 stage. 
 
 The house was in tumult and confusion. The 
 King was seen to leave his box, for Louis the 
 Fifteenth was reaUy agitated by the event. We 
 must not inquire too curiously whether such an 
 admirer of beauty as that monarch, might not 
 
268 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 be anxious to see tlie new singer more closely, 
 as well as to render some assistance to her. The 
 King, witli that quickness of observation for 
 which he was renowned, had perceived at once 
 that the injury could not be a fatal one, or even 
 of a serious character. Indeed, the wound, 
 which was in the left arm, was but slight, the 
 bullet having done little more than grazed the 
 ■surface. 
 
 Shortly afterwards. Count Gluck, who had 
 followed the Eang, was seen to return to the 
 lloyal box ; and, after whispering to one of the 
 ■damies d'honnew of the Queen, to take away her 
 lace shawl. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards, the manager 
 came forward and made a short speech, stating 
 that the attempted assassination had had but 
 little effect ; that the Signora was but slightly 
 wounded ; and, in ten minutes, would again 
 courageously appear before them. This an- 
 nouncement was, of course, received with thun- 
 ders of applause. 
 
 Meanwhile, Limbar had disappeared) and, 
 notwithstanding all the vigilance of the Parisian 
 police, was not arrested. 
 
 The remainder of the third Act was sup- 
 pressed; ,but Azra came on the stage at the 
 appointed time in the fourth Act, the injury to 
 her arm, and its bandages^ being concealed by 
 the lace shawl which Count Gluck had taken 
 from the dame d'honnewr. From that moment, 
 monarch and people vied in their plaudits of 
 encouragement. 
 
 Azra, to whom those plaudits gave new life, 
 sang with a force, a spirit, and even with ' a 
 correctness that she had never manifested, on 
 the stage, before. In fact she sang as well as 
 
THE PRIMA DONNA'S DEBUT. 26^ 
 
 she had often simg when alone. Her triumph 
 was complete. 
 
 One person only went home from the opera 
 that night saddened and dispirited, hopelesa 
 indeed of future favour, and infinitely regretful 
 of having missed a golden opportunity. 
 
 This person was Ivan de Biron. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 I¥AN LEAVES PAEIS, AND EETUENS TO ST. PETEES- 
 BUEG — STATE OF AIFAIES AT ST. PETEESBUEG. 
 
 The enthusiasm at Paris in favour of the 
 new singer was immense. Whenever she ap- 
 peared on the stagOj she was welcomed with the 
 utmost fervour. The throwing of bouquets was 
 a mode of recognizing merit not invented in 
 that day. Encores were infrequent j and that 
 wonderfully absurd practice of calling on the 
 principal actors and actresses to appear at the 
 end of an act, whereby whatever illusion remains 
 for the stage, is in danger of being utterly 
 dispelled,* had not been adopted, or even 
 attempted. But whatever demonstrations of ap- 
 
 * This absttrdity cuhmnates, when you see the tyrant and 
 the slave — the rejected lover and the accepted lover — 
 the prisoner and his jailer — come on, hand in hand, to 
 receive the plaudits of an unthinldng crowd that does not 
 seem to know the first and humblest principles of the 
 art which they are doing what they can to destroy by 
 their ill-considered demands. 
 
IVAN LEAVES PARIS. 271 
 
 proval were then in vogue, Azra enjoyed a full 
 share of them. 
 
 A hundred romantic stories were invented 
 about her: she was loudly greeted when seen 
 in the street; and even grave personages paid 
 court to her, thinking it not improbable that 
 she might supersede the royal favourite of the 
 day. 
 
 Ivan saw and heard these demonstrations 
 with gloom and vexation of spirit. Even Count 
 Gluck began to fear lest Azra's success should 
 prove too great for his designs, and quite remove 
 her from anything Hke patronage on his part. 
 
 Azra would have been more than mortal, if 
 she had not been touched and gratified by this 
 almost overwhelming success. StiU there 
 a certain element of vexation to her also. She 
 felt that much of this acclamation was due to 
 the incident of Limbar's attempt upon her life. 
 She had hoped to triumph by her art alone ; 
 and, even, as regards that, she felt aU the 
 humility and depression of mind which, except 
 with very vain people, is sure to attend any 
 great success. 
 
 Ivan^'s stay at Paris was limited. He had 
 ■only leave of absence for a certain time, and did 
 not dare to exceed that time. Indeed, the very 
 perilous circumstances in which every Russian 
 Courtier at that period was placed — circum- 
 stances well known to Ivan — made him fear 
 that he had lost much ground by venturing to 
 be absent at all from St. Petersburg. 
 
 It has been said that it was rather a dull and 
 uneventful period at the Russian Court; and 
 that Elizabeth's power was consolidated. Still 
 there was some latent dissatisfaction, which had 
 not escaped Ivan's notice. The first enthusiasm 
 
272 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 whicli pervaded Russia on Elizabeth's seizure 
 of the thronSj had considerably subsided. The 
 new favourites, many of them men of low origin 
 and insignificant pretensions, had behaved with 
 the insolence and rapaciousness that were to be 
 expected from them. Lestocq was as giddy, 
 vain, and loquacious as ever. The Preobra- 
 skenski guards astonished St. Petersburg by 
 their follies of speech and action, and their lavish 
 expenditure. Indeed, they had conducted them- 
 selves much as the graver men had done in the 
 short preceding reign of the Duchess Eegent, 
 when even Count Miianich, making too much 
 profit of his favour, had lost that favour both 
 with the Duchess Regent and his Colleagues. 
 It requires great discretion for one, who has 
 been a King-maker, to retain the favour of the 
 Sovereign he has made, by not presuming too 
 much upon his handiwork; and it was not to be 
 expected that such persons as these common 
 soldiers of the guard, should conduct themselves 
 discreetly. 
 
 It is desirable to refer to the fall of Miinnich, 
 for had that vigorous and active man been in 
 favour at St. Petersburg when Lestocq's con- 
 spiracy was formed it is very imlikely that it 
 Would have succeeded. 
 
 It was not a time, as Ivan thought to himself, 
 for him to be absent from Court ; and yet, 
 perhaps, it would have been well for him, if he 
 had prolonged his stay at Paris. But this he did 
 not venture to do. 
 
 Ivan was too sensible a man to put his hopes 
 to the final test on the occasion of his departure, 
 and to ask Azra, once for all, whether she would 
 marry him: "Not now,'' he said to himself, 
 " not now, while she is intoxicated with success. 
 
IVAN LEA VES PARIS. 275 
 
 will I make the great venture of my life/' Deter- 
 miaed, too, as lie was, to withdraw her from the 
 stage if she should become his wife, he felt that, 
 the present moment would be the worst to choose 
 for such a project. Here, again, he was wrong ;. 
 fpr it is after failure — ^failure which is felt by 
 the person failing to be undeserved — that there 
 is least, chance of persuading that person to- 
 relinquish the course of life which he or she has 
 adopted. Success may cause satiety : failure,, 
 never. 
 
 Before leaving Paris, Ivan contrived, though 
 with much difficulty, to have private inter- 
 views with Azra. In the course of one of these 
 interviews, he presumed to warn her agaiast the 
 intentions of Count Grluck. He is a bad man, 
 Ivan said, a crafty, dissembling, self-seeking 
 man. " He would never have loved you, Azra,^ 
 if he had known you first, when I did. It 
 is not the gypsy, Azra, so dear to me in those 
 past days, but the celebrated Signora Hurtaldi 
 that Count Gluck pays court to, hoping doubt- 
 less, thereby to re-establish his own precarious 
 fortunes." 
 
 Azra answered coldly. Indeed she could 
 answer without any effort to control emotion > 
 for, at this moment, she was heart-free ; and, if 
 the truth must be told, all the time that Ivan 
 was talkiug, she was thinking miyre of a new 
 part she had to play, than of anything " dear 
 good Ivan" as she called him to herself, was 
 saying to her. 
 
 One topic, with signal want of judgment, 
 Ivan finally ventured to touch upon. It related 
 to Louis the Fifteenth. This did recall Azra< 
 from any thoughts about her new part, and 
 roused her indignation greatly. Among the 
 
274 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 rude people of her tribej if there was coarseness 
 of speech, there was a certain purity of life 
 which made such an allusion to a wicked pos- 
 sibility an undoubted insult in Azra's eyes. 
 Poor Ivan did all that he could to efface the 
 impression which his unwary words had inade. 
 But he had not succeeded in doing so, before she 
 was summoned for rehearsal. The interview 
 was obliged to be abruptly broken off; and 
 Azra and Ivan parted from one another with 
 more sorrow and regret on his part, with less 
 liking on hers, than they had ever known 
 before. 
 
 How changed was the aspect of things from 
 what it had been ia those days when Azra was 
 the sole comfort to Ivan in his trouble and his 
 desolation; when she was his only confidante j 
 or when she shared thosfe lessons with the 
 Priacess Marie at which she only assisted, in the 
 hope 'and belief, as she said to herself, that 
 she should be the means of reconciling the 
 lovers — a sorrowful hope which, when for a 
 moment it seemed likely to be realized, had 
 fiUed her heart with a terror and ah anguish 
 that, despite of all her noble endeavours at self- 
 sacrifice, she could not overcome. 
 
 Gladly now, and with a thorough sense of 
 reUef, she heard the sound of the departing 
 wheels of Baron Ivan de Biron's carriage, as it 
 proceeded on its way to Viucennes, the first 
 stage on the road from Paris to St. Petersburg. 
 
 The only words that Ivan might have been 
 heard to exclaim, if there had been any one to 
 overhear him, were "What will Kalynch say 
 now ? " 
 
BOOK Y. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 KALTNCH AND HIS THEOBT. 
 
 " What will Kalynoh say now ? " This 
 had become a proverbial saying amongst all 
 those people who had the good fortune to be 
 acquainted with Kalynch. 
 
 And who was Kalynch ? He was an honest 
 Oourlander, who had long been a servant in the 
 Biron family^ and had accompanied the Duke of 
 Courland when he came with the Empress Anne 
 to Russia. 
 
 Kalynch had lately been entrusted with pri- 
 vate despatches from his Highness at Jaroslaw to 
 Ivan; and Ivan hady with the Dake's permis- 
 sion, retained him iu his own service for a time, 
 being very desirous at this critical period to 
 have one faithful friend and servant whom he 
 could thoroughly rely upon. 
 
 There are many faithful servants, however, 
 who do not acquire in their own circle the 
 celebrity of Kalynch ; or, as regards whom, any 
 
 T 2 
 
276 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 anxiety is expressed as to wliat they will say 
 upon any particular occasion. 
 
 But KalyncL. had a theory — one whichj ac- 
 cording to his opinion, rendered plain the doubt- 
 ful matters of this troublesome world, and was of 
 universal application. 
 
 It is often said that neither good fortune, nor 
 evil fortune, lasts long; and there are pleasant 
 proverbs to somewhat of the same effect, such as 
 " The darkest hour of the night is just before the 
 dawn." 
 
 But these are vague sayings, which only 
 shadow forth the precise theory which Kalynoh 
 had made his own. He held that good and ill 
 fortune came alternately to every human being, 
 with absolute certainty, — and in an ascending 
 scale. For instance, if you could measure good 
 or ill fortune by absolute numbers, he held that 
 if an evil event, estimated at three, came upon 
 you, this was to be followed by a favourable 
 event estimated at four ; and so on, in a recurring 
 series. But what he most insisted upon, was the 
 invariableness of the alternation of good and 
 evil. This was his one idea, and he held to it 
 grimly. He would not have lived with any one 
 who bad presumed to treat lightly this theory of 
 his; and even the great Duke of Oourland did 
 not dare to jest at it in Kalynch's presence. 
 There was a time when Ivan as well as the other 
 junior members of the Biron family, had believed 
 in it implicitly. 
 
 Not even fond mothers love their children 
 more than men their pet theories. Facts must 
 be made somehow or other to conform to them. 
 Perverse and seemingly intractable facts must 
 be taught to know their proper places. 
 
 The events which Kalynch submitted to his. 
 
KALYNCH AND HIS THEORY. 277 
 
 iron law of alternation, were to be equivalent 
 events. A small piece of good fortune did not 
 necessarily follow upon, or rather chime in with, 
 a great disaster. Bach set of events had its own 
 proper increasing series. 
 
 Occasionally the Kalynch law seemed to break 
 ■down — but not to Kalynch^s own mind. The 
 good man was unconscious of sophistry ; but he 
 had, nevertheless, a most ingenious way of dealing 
 with refractory facts. Following a disaster, there 
 woidd perversely come another disaster. This 
 would have been felt to have been an untoward 
 •circumstance by any lukewarm behever in the 
 Kalynch law — ^but not so to the discoverer of 
 that law. He always found out that the second 
 disaster was immediately and inevitably con- 
 nected with that prior one which unthoughtfiil 
 people imagined to be an isolated fact — that, in 
 short, the two facts were one and indivisible. 
 No commentator was ever more skilful in recon- 
 ciling apparent inconsistencies, than was Ka- 
 lynch in dealing with stupid facts that did their 
 best to be contradictory. He had a simile, too, 
 which was invariably brought out on such occa- 
 sions. The world was much agitated about 
 comets at that period. There was a kind of 
 misfortune, Kalynch said, which was cometary. 
 There was' the nucleus and there was the tail ; 
 but ignorant observers did not always see that 
 the nucleus and the tail constituted one body, 
 and obeyed one law. 
 
 The man was very popular with all who knew 
 him. When misfortune befel any one of them, it 
 was deUghtful for him to have a friend who, 
 sympathizing with him warmly (for Kalynch was 
 a most kind-hearted man), was yet cheerful and 
 even joyous over the sad event, for was it not 
 
278 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 tlie herald of some signal piece of good fortune 
 which, was to foUow ? 
 
 When the good fortune did come, the fortu- 
 nate man laughed at his good friend Kalynch's 
 consequent forebodings ; and then ventured, not, 
 however, in his presence, to deride his theory. 
 
 Kalynch was a comforter at the time when 
 most men most desire to be comforted. And, in 
 prosperity, his friends could afford to listen with 
 a smile to his prognostication of certain coming 
 evil. 
 
 During his service in the Biron family, 
 Kalynch had enjoyed large opportunities of 
 observing the recurrence of good and evil 
 fortune ; and he maintained that his theory, not 
 that he called it a theory, had always proved true 
 in that family. He, alone, of all the Duke of 
 Courland^s adherents, had not been dismayed by 
 his master's downfall. He only waited for the 
 corresponding favourable event which was to 
 raise the Duke still higher in the world. 
 
 Kalynch had now taken Ivan's fortimes int» 
 his earnest consideration ; and, of course, things 
 were happening just as they ought to happen, 
 and must happen. Ivan had lately received a. 
 gr'eat place at Court, and was in high favour. 
 Kalynch divined from Ivan's sad and downcast 
 looks that he had now been unsuccessful in love 
 — it was no secret that Ivan was devoted to 
 Azra — and so, again, the course of human affairs 
 obeyed its proper law. Kalynch was very cheer- 
 fill — even sprightly — as the next piece of good 
 fortune for his dear young master would evi- 
 dently be of a generous and ample kind — ^what 
 the ninth wave is to any of the preceding eight. 
 Kalynch, as, fi-om time to time, he fiirtively 
 regarded Ivan, and saw how deep was his 
 
KALYNCH AND HIS THEORY. 279 
 
 dejection, felt assured of the proportionate gran- 
 deur of the coming event of prosperity. 
 
 Kalynch, in person, was a thiu spare man, 
 with a rigid but imposing set of features. He 
 spoke deliberately, as a man should, whose words 
 were as the words of fate. He had a trick of 
 speech which had always afforded much amuse- 
 ment to his masters, for he could not restrain 
 himself in it, even before them. After any one of 
 his measured sentences, he was in the habit of 
 saying in a lower tone, but still with distinct- 
 ness, "Yes, yes certainly" or, to translate the 
 Russian words more accurately, "Yes, yes, he 
 has said it." 
 
 Thus poor Kalynch betrayed by open speech, 
 that which most of us think, but do iiot say 
 aloud. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 THE LAPOUSCHIN CONSPIEACT SOME OF ITS EESULTS. 
 
 It is a pretty device of some moral 
 pMosophers, and a very well-intended one, to 
 maintain that the fates and fortunes of aU men 
 are equal, or at least, tend to equality. The iU- 
 luck, however, that exists in the world, is not by 
 any means divided equally amongst its inhabitants. 
 Certainly, Ivan de Biron was a man marked out 
 for a contiuuance of ill-fortune ; and even those 
 events which seemed to partake of the nature of 
 prosperity for him, were nearly sure to be 
 attended by very adverse circumstances. During 
 the time that he was private secretary to the 
 Duke of Courland (an appointment which he 
 shared with an Englishman of the name of Shaw,) 
 it seemed as if nothing could shake the Duke's 
 power, and so depress the fortunes of his much 
 envied private secretary. The Duke was a Sove- 
 reign Prince ; and it was not to be expected that, 
 even should any mishap occur to him as regarded 
 his position of prime minister in Russia, he would 
 
THE LAPOUSCHIN CONSPIRACY. 281 
 
 cease to be powerful in his Duchy of Courland. 
 It happened otherwise, however, as we have seen; 
 and Ivan had to share the exQe of his master. 
 
 Recovering from that disaster, Ivan returned 
 to St. Petersburg — ^there, again, to meet with 
 misfortune, but to conquer it; and apparently 
 to enter upon the high road of good fortune. 
 He was now much courted in the society of that 
 capital. It was nearly impossible for one in his 
 position to remain unconnected with party. At 
 that period the great drawback upon the de- 
 velopment of civilization in Russia, was the 
 deficiency of any large and powerful body of 
 men who should not be immersed in party, or 
 be free from the inevitable downfall which 
 followed upon the revolution (it can be denoted 
 by no lesser word), occasioned by any change 
 •of ministers. 
 
 It had previously been a great comfort to Ivan, 
 that the House of Serbatoff was connected with 
 that party of the State, under which Ivan was 
 disposed to range himself. Their joint fortunes, 
 however, were at this moment, though they did 
 not know it, in great peril by reason of the im- 
 prudence of a few members of that party. 
 
 There was also a private cause of danger which 
 they recked not of. They were unfortunate 
 •enough to have amongst their number the most 
 beautiful woman in Russia, the Countess Lapou- 
 schin. This woman was especially hateful to, and 
 hated by, the Empress. Scandal said that the 
 chief cause of this enmity was the pre-eminent 
 beauty of the Countess ; but this probably, like 
 many other scandalous assertions, was only partly 
 true. It is a more than usually unjust accusation, 
 that which is brought against women, of being 
 jealous of other women's beauty, and unwilUng 
 
282 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 to recognize it. On the contrary, they are often 
 more attracted by it even than men are. The 
 stories told against the Sovereigns of Eussia, 
 and other great people , at their Court, during 
 that period, are to be received, as the Romans 
 would have said, with many grains of salt ; and 
 much of what is said against them is as untrue as 
 probably the tales of Suetonius are about the 
 Eoman Emperors. 
 
 There were other reasons than the one 
 commonly assigned, which made the Czarina 
 very bitter against the Countess Lapouschin. 
 
 Her singular beauty gave her great sway in 
 Russian society; and, in that society, she was 
 one of Elizabeth's most potent and most provok- 
 ing enemies. The Empress knew well that her 
 conduct was open to much censure, and, what 
 was probably more galling, to much ridicule. It 
 may fairly be conjectured that it was 'more on 
 account of Madame Lapouschin's sharp tongue, 
 than of her beautiful face, that the Empress 
 Elizabeth was infuriated against her. 
 
 It happened that a great dinner-party was 
 given at the house of the Lapouschins, or of 
 some friend of theirs, at which party Ivan, after 
 his return to St. Petersburg, was present. The 
 conversation turned, as the conversation generally 
 did turn, amongst these people, upon the faults 
 and follies of the Empress ; and " many shocking 
 things,'^ to use the words of a contemporary, 
 were said against Her Majesty upon this occa- 
 sion. 
 
 It win be recollected that a man of the name 
 of Nariskoff had been one of the exile's at Pelem 
 — ^the one who was mainly instrumental in dis- 
 covering to his fellows the presence among them 
 of the hated Duke of Courland. Obscure as h& 
 
THE LAPOUSCHIN CONSPIRACY. 285 
 
 wasj lie had not been forgotten in the general 
 recall from exile, which had taken place imme- 
 diately upon the seizure of the throne by 
 Elizabeth. He was a guest at this dinner of the 
 Lapousohins, for he had agaia become a favourite 
 at the tables of the great. Previously to his 
 exile, his wit, chiefly turned towards iU-nature,. 
 had somewhat wearied them: but now he had 
 a set of new topics, which, closely relating to 
 personalities of an amusing kind, were always 
 welcome. 
 
 In exile, even the greatest personages, bereft 
 of their ordinary sources of income, had made 
 use of whatever special talent they possessed, to 
 gain a livelihood for themselves, or to add to the- 
 common stock. This Prince had distinguished 
 himself as a tailor : this Baron as a shoemaker : 
 that Counsellor of State as a carpenter. Others- 
 had devoted themselves to the amusement of the 
 miserable community in which they dwelt j and 
 artistic talent of all kinds had been developed 
 amongst them. 
 
 This afforded an excellent field for the wit and 
 humour of Nariskoff; and his audience did not 
 weary of hearing him describe, in the drollest 
 terms, how the Prince stitched, and the Baron 
 cobbled, and the Chevalier painted, and the 
 Colonel sang. These narratives, moreover, had. 
 a special interest for a Eussian audience, as the 
 hearers could hardly help thinking how soon it 
 might be their fate to exercise whatever talent 
 was latent in them, for the purpose of gaining a 
 livelihood in Siberia. The result was, that 
 Nariskoff became more popular than ever — that 
 is as far as popularity can be indicated by 
 invitations to dinner. 
 
 At this dinner, Nariskoff greatly amused the- 
 
284 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 company by telling them of tlie proceedings of a 
 certain Baron Neudorf, when in exile in Siberia. 
 The Baron was known to most of them. In the 
 society of St. Petersburg he had been considered 
 a very dull man, and more than usually unin- 
 structed. It pleased himj howeverj to set up as 
 a schoolmaster at Pelem; and the malicious 
 Nariskoff had often assisted at the school lessons. 
 The wit's description of the way in which the 
 Baron prepared for his teachiagj and of his 
 difficulty in answering the questions of the 
 children, was exceedingly humorous. 
 
 One anecdote Nariskoff told, of rather a 
 significant character. The Baron had asked 
 what was the meaning of the word " exile." 
 for a time there was no response from the 
 pupils. At length one little girl stepped boldly 
 forward to answer the question. She was the 
 daughter of a trayelling merchant. The Duke of 
 Courland's suspicions, and the punishment that 
 followed those suspicions, were not confined to 
 the higher classes alone. 
 
 The child's answer was, " Black bread for me 
 and Tatiana — only little bits — and not a drop of 
 vodki for father." 
 
 Whatever facetiousness there might be in this 
 anecdote, was of a very grim kind, and might 
 have awakened some reflections tending to 
 cautiousness of speech, if that joyous company 
 had been at all disposed to entertain any such 
 reflections. 
 
 Nariskoff did not fail on this occasion to chime 
 in with the general tone of conversation ; and his 
 description of the Empress's proceedings, his 
 imitation of Director-general Lestocq, and his 
 representation of a Preobraskenski common 
 soldier, swaggering at a cafS, were not the least 
 
TH£ LAPOUSCHIN CONSPIRACY. 285 
 
 amusing features of this evening's dangerous 
 conversation. 
 
 Ivan, as may be imagined, did not join in tMs 
 clamour against his Imperial Mistress. On the 
 contrary it pained him much. He did not, 
 however, endeavour to stem the torrent of Hi- 
 nature and disloyal comment which then broke 
 forth.. He knew too well that some of the 
 accusations were justly founded^ and that any 
 attempt at defence would only provoke recrimi- 
 nation. Once or twice he sought to change tTie 
 current of the conversation, but his efforts were 
 unsuccessful. 
 
 The whole of that conversation and the names 
 of the persons present were soon afterwards 
 reported to. the Empress ; and Ivan had, thence- 
 forward, to endure much contumely from her, 
 of which he could not divine the cause. 
 
 It was a great evil, not only for Russia, but 
 for most European countries, at that period, 
 that foreign ambassadors thought it part of their 
 duty to meddle with the iutemal affairs of the 
 countries to which they were accredited. A 
 certaiu Marquis de Botta had lately been the 
 ambassador from the Queen of Hungary to the 
 Eussian Court. He had, as it may be remem- 
 bered, taken a very active part iu warniag the 
 Duchess Regent of the danger to be appre- 
 hended from Lestocq's conspiracy, of which the 
 Marquis had full cognizance. 
 
 TMs Marquis de Botta was now at Vienna ; 
 but he did not desist from his enmity to the 
 Princess Elizabeth, now that she had gained the 
 throne; and he was concerned ia a conspiracy, 
 in which it is said the Lapouschins were also 
 engaged, together with Madame de Bestuchef,. 
 sister-in-law to the Chancellor, the Chamberlain 
 
1286 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Lillianfeld, and several other persons of more or 
 less consequence. 
 
 It is exceedingly doubtful whether this so- 
 called conspiracy had proceeded much further 
 than vague talk and vague aspirations. The 
 world said, at that time, and nothing has since 
 come to light to disprove the saying, that the 
 Empress was but too glad to avail herself of any 
 pretext for avenging herself upon the beautiful 
 Countess Lapouschin. A man of the name of 
 Berger, a comet of cuirassiers, was one of the 
 persons who had betrayed the traitorous conver- 
 sation of these partisans to the Empress and her 
 ministers. Berger was ordered to connect him- 
 ' self more closely with the conspirators. Upon 
 further information that he gave, they were all 
 arrested. 
 
 Elizabeth had now the conspirators in her 
 power. If the conspiracy were not a full-fledged 
 one, at any rate it was so far formed, or indi- 
 cated, as to admit of the punishment for treason 
 being awarded to aU those who were nearly, or 
 even remotely, connected with it. But Eliza- 
 beth was still 'Elizabeth the Clement.' Her 
 fair rival now being completely at her mercy, 
 the Czarina hesitated to condemn. As, how- 
 ever, it has been truly observed, 
 
 " There's some men of their Woody coimsels boast, 
 As though the heart were difficult to harden." 
 
 And there are seldom' wanting those who, in 
 •close proximity to the powerful, offer these 
 bloody counsels, thinking that they will be sure 
 to be acceptable, or fearing for themselves lest 
 their political enemies, condemned to milder 
 punishments, should ever be re-installed in 
 favour again. Elizabeth's Prime Minister and 
 
THE LAPOUSCHIN CONSPIRACY. 287 
 
 Chancellor, Bestuchef, urged upon his reluctant 
 mistress to sign the warrant of condemnation of 
 the Countess Lapouschin. The Czarina steadily 
 refused. 
 
 A mode of influence was then brought to bear 
 upon her which the astute Chancellor knew 
 would have great effect. The Empress, as it has 
 previously been shown in this narrative, was a 
 very dutiful dau^ter of her Church. A Court 
 preacher, whose name, unhappily, cannot be 
 devoted to infamy, for it is unknown, delivered 
 an eloquent and vehement sermon in the 
 presence of the Czarina, which was divided into 
 the two following theses. 
 
 The first was, on the obedience and fidelity 
 due to Sovereigns, and further of the respect 
 due to their sacred persons. The second dwelt 
 upon the duty of sovereigns to punish, without 
 regard of persons, those who dared to attempt 
 anything against their lives, their honour (herein 
 was the Countess most guilty), or their preroga- 
 tive. 
 
 The effect of this eloquent discourse upon 
 Elizabeth was visible to all those who were 
 present on this occasion. No sooner had she 
 withdrawn to her private apartments, than it 
 was pressed upon her " that the intention of God 
 himself was that she should punish these guilty 
 persons." The warrant for their condemnation 
 was then placed before her— and she signed it. 
 
 Madam Lapouschin was condemned to have 
 her tongue cut out; and she died from the effect 
 of this brutal mutilation. 
 
 After this execution had taken place, an un- 
 dying remorse seized upon the heart of Ehzabeth. 
 It was then that she finally resolved never to 
 sign any death warrant. She retained her Chan- 
 
288 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 cellor in power. She knew that he was the 
 ablest minister whose services she could com- 
 mand. But she reproached him, as perhaps our 
 own Elizabeth did not fail to reproach those of 
 her ministers, who, on a like occasion, had 
 urged these bloody counsels upon a reluctant 
 mistress ; and the Eussian- Elizabeth's memor- 
 able words were these : " Tou have deceived me 
 a hundred times," she said to her Chancellor, 
 "Tou have employed God and the Devil to 
 surprise my signature; you will never deceive 
 me again. My successors, stronger than I am,, 
 will know how to punish you some day as you 
 deserve." 
 
 It may well be imagined that if Elizabeth's 
 generous reluctance to condemn the Countess- 
 (whom, now pitying, she cared for most) had 
 been thus overcome, how little difficulty there 
 must have been in obtaining her signature for 
 the condemnation of the minor conspirators, in 
 whose fate the readers of this narrative are more 
 immediately interested. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 chapi:ee VI. 
 
 AZEA's EETUEN to ST. PETBESBUEO IVAH's AEEEST 
 
 AND EXILE. 
 
 AzEA, or as perhaps she should be calledj 
 Signora Hurtaldi, had previously returned to St. 
 Petersburg. The offers made by the Director of 
 the Opera to procure that return had been most 
 liberal. Their liberality, however, was not the 
 cause which induced the Signora to accede to his 
 proposal, for she was very indifferent to the 
 pecuniary rewards for the exercise of her talent. 
 A lingering desire to see Ivan again had more 
 weight with her. There was also a great plea- 
 sure in store for her, as she thought, in having 
 to produce before her old and best-loved 
 audience, the same opera in which she had been 
 so successful in Paris — a success which had 
 reached the ears of all the connoisseurs at 
 St. Petersburg. 
 
 Ivan did not fail to renew his companionship 
 with Azra, though he still feared to speak, even 
 
Z90 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 in the most guarded manner, of the subject that 
 was nearest his heart. 
 
 Azra had taken upon herself much of the 
 management and preparation which were neces- 
 sary to place with full effect the new opera upon 
 the Eussian stage. She was a dictatress in aU 
 matters that related to the dress, scenery, and 
 general arrangements for this opera, respecting 
 which she alone had Parisian experience. Pre- 
 viously to the .first representation, she passed 
 most of her time at the Opera-house, where her 
 presence was constantly needed to give the 
 requisite direction^. Ivan, when he wished to 
 see her, had to seek for her there. The original 
 cause of difference between them still existed. 
 It was rarely, if ever, directly alluded to ; but 
 each of them was fiilly aware of its existence, 
 and that no change had taken place in the mind 
 of the other respecting it. He was anxious to 
 withdraw her fi-om theatrical life : she was deter- 
 mined to remain. 
 
 The relations between Azra and Count Gluck 
 were not known to any one, not even to Ivan ; 
 but it may be conjectured that their intimacy 
 had not proceeded further, and that more obser- 
 vation of the Count's character had compelled 
 Azra to look upon his suit less and less favour- 
 ably. In truth, if there was anybody in the 
 world whom the Prima Donna really liked, it 
 was her old friend Ivan. But for him there 
 certainly was not that convincing love, or 
 liking, "which would induce her to be materially 
 swayed by him, and to give up the delight 
 of her life, her theatrical career, to please her 
 lover. 
 
 It was on the day before the representation of 
 the new Opera, that Ivan, in the afternoon, came 
 
RETURN TO ST. PETERSBURG. 291 
 
 to the Opera-housej and sought an interview 
 with Azra. He had just been suddenly dis- 
 missed from the Household of Elizabeth, and 
 had been in much perplexity as to the course of 
 life he should now adopt. Finally he had almost 
 determiaed to return to Courland, where he had 
 numerous connections, and where the influence 
 of his former master, the Duke of Courland,. 
 might be most serviceable to him. With the 
 Duke, who, though he was not allowed to return 
 to Court, had not been formally dispossessed of 
 his sovereignty over Courland, Ivan was stiU in 
 friendly relation, and had indeed been the means 
 of communication between His Highness and his 
 partisans at St. Petersburg. Ivan resolved that 
 now, or never, he must ascertain whether Azra 
 would consent to marry him, and would, with 
 him, enter upon the new life which he proposed 
 to hve in Courland. 
 
 He found her very busy, and not in the most 
 amiable of moods, for, as mostly happens in such 
 cases, there were many things which had gone 
 wrong ; and much that she had expected to com- 
 plete, was not completed. Still she received 
 him kindly, and apologized for the confusion in 
 the midst of which he found her. 
 
 "I am so sorry, Ivan,^^ she said (the fanuliar 
 use of his christian name had recommenced at 
 St. Petersburg), " to hear that you are no longer 
 in the Household; but no doubt it is only a 
 momentary caprice of the Empress's, and she 
 wiU give you some higher office, something more 
 worthy of you." 
 
 "You do not know her, Azra. Some one 
 has poisoned her mind against me. I have seen 
 it and felt it for some time. All is over for me 
 
 u2 
 
292 IVAN BE BJRON. 
 
 in Russia. I am determined to return to Cour- 
 land J and gladly should I return if — " 
 
 " If whatj Ivan ? Is there anything that I 
 can do ? " 
 
 " Yes : there is everything that you can do. 
 You can come with me." 
 
 Azra grew pale as he sai4 these words. 
 *' What ! leave the opera ! " she exclaimed, 
 " leave St. Petersburg now ! There is no opera 
 in Gourland." 
 
 "Why should there be? What should my 
 wife want with operas ? " 
 
 " No, Ivan : I could not, I really could 
 not : you do not know what you ask of 
 me." 
 
 " I do know : I only ask what any woman 
 who loved me, would at once grant. But you 
 love me not, Azra. This painted mimicry of 
 passion fills your heart." 
 
 Here they were interrupted by the leader of 
 the orchestra entering hastily, and requesting 
 that Azra would come and listen to the 
 chorus ia the second Act, which was being 
 "abominably done" — "abominably" repeated 
 the little manj " and you must come and help me 
 drill them, Signora." Azra promised to come, 
 and the man left the room. 
 
 It is hardly to be told with what passion- 
 passion aided by despair — Ivan then pressed 
 his suit. "Had she not once loved him? 
 Had she not then been everything to him?" 
 
 Azra could have made an unpleasant answer 
 to this question ; but the generous girl forebore 
 to do so. She owned that she liked him better 
 than anybody else; but she could not do what 
 he wished her to do. That would be too great 
 a sacrifice for him as well as for her. 
 
IVAN'S ARREST AND EXILE. 293 
 
 Ivan grew indignant; and filially placed all 
 his hopes and wishes upon a single and definite 
 answer^-TeSj or No. 
 
 Azra faintly uttered the fatal liegative. 
 
 Again the leader of the orchestra made his 
 appearance, and claimed her presence at the 
 rehearsal. Ivan dejectedly followed her from 
 the green-room to the stage. Here there were 
 fom* persons who, as it appeared, were not at all re- 
 quired for stage business. They were a Lieutenant 
 of Cuirassiers, accompanied by three privates of 
 his regiment. No sooner did the Lieutenant 
 see Ivan, than, going towards him, he touched 
 him on the shoulder, demanded his sword in 
 the Czarina^s name, and told him that he was 
 their prisoner. 
 
 Brief was the parting between Ivan and 
 Azra; and apparently not more than that of 
 ordinary friends, though he held her hand for 
 some short time in his, and looked with sad 
 questioning into her eyes. But these she cast 
 down ; though she strove to return his fond 
 pressure with a fondness equal to his own. And 
 thus they parted. 
 
 Ivan was at first conveyed to Schliisselberg, 
 where he had to undergo a private judicial 
 examination. It was clearly brought in evi- 
 , dence against him. that he had been present at 
 the dinners of the Lapouschins and their friends. 
 His complicity ia the plot against the Empress 
 was inferred; certainly it could not have been 
 proved; and the result was, that he was con- 
 demned again to exile in Siberia. 
 
 The representation of the new Opera was put 
 off for some days on account of the indisposi- 
 tion of the Prima Donna. Some said that the 
 arrangements for the Opera were not ready, and 
 
294 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 that tWs was the cause of tlie delay. This was 
 not true; but when the first representation did 
 take place, Azra's grief fot Ivan's misfortune, 
 and for their sad and sorry parting, though 
 that grief was deep and real, did not prevent 
 her from making those exertions which suflSced 
 to ensure as great a triumph for her at St. 
 Petersburg as that which she had enjoyed at 
 Paris. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
BOOK YI. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE JOUENET TO SIBERIA — IVAU DE EIEON AND^ 
 NAEISKOFF IN THE FOEBST OP PELEM. 
 
 The journey to Siberia, even when it is a 
 traveller and not an exile who journeys^ is any- 
 thing but joyous. The boundless plains, the 
 sombre grey colouring, the few birch trees scat- 
 tered here and there, in such disproportion to 
 the vastness of the surrounding scenery as to 
 justify Robert Hall's celebrated saying, on con- 
 templating a similar region, that when a tree did 
 appear, " it was only nature holding up a signal 
 of distress," — ^render the journey, even to the 
 most buoyant mind, a gloomy and a mournful 
 one. 
 
 The traveller who, for the first time, comes 
 from a champaign to a mountainous region, or 
 from a land of hiUs and dales to a country of 
 dead level, is, no doubt, somewhat astonished 
 and bewildered. But, in their way to Siberia, 
 there is that which affects most men more than 
 any change in the mere form of country from. 
 
298 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 that wHcli they have been accustomed to — 
 namely the absence of the signs of definite pos- 
 session. In countries that are more civilized and, 
 more peopled, these signs of possession, which 
 are visible even in very barren and in very lofty 
 regions, give a feeling of welcome to the tra- 
 veller, tell him of the conquests made by man, 
 and indicate somewhat of peace, order, and 
 'security. 
 
 The limitless plain, on the contrary, when un- 
 divided by landmarks, creates a sense of the 
 feebleness of man when compared with the 
 vastness of the possession which he may have 
 entered upon, but cannot be said to have subdued. 
 
 The regretful feehngs, however, of the exile, 
 the severity of the discipline by which he is 
 driven along, and his many physical discomforts, 
 leave him neither time nor heart to note much 
 the scenery through which he is hurried, and 
 which, perhaps, does not serve more than to 
 form a gloomy and unpropitious background to 
 his nearer and more pressing miseries. 
 
 Again the scene of action is Siberia. Again 
 the time of the year is spring — that season, in 
 all but the most favoured cHmes, the most 
 repulsive, — and, in Siberia, absolutely hideous. 
 
 It was a still evening, with the usual damp 
 mist pervading everywhere, when two men were 
 walkiag in a glade that went for some miles 
 through the forest neighbouring to Pelem. 
 They were both well-known personages in this 
 story, though it would have been doubtful 
 whether those, who had known the younger of 
 these men in former days, would, at first sight, 
 have recognized him now. His countenance 
 was still that of a young man ; but it had ac- 
 quired some of the marks and signs which belong 
 
IVAN AND NARISKOFF. 299 
 
 to middle life, if not to old age. The forehead 
 was indented with those liaes which are made by 
 care and trouble, even more than by thought, 
 upon that plastic material, the human face. 
 Moreover the ends of the hair had begun to 
 change colour; and it might be foreseen that, 
 unless this change should be arrested by a 
 change of mind, this young man would, in a few 
 years, be prematurely grey. 
 
 His companion was unaltered as regards any 
 marks signifying age, but a certain expression of 
 sourness sat upon the face that had not been 
 there before : his smile was far less pleasing 
 €ven than it had been formerly ; and it seemed 
 as if the wit had become a confirmed cynic. 
 
 The companionship of these two men did not 
 appear likely, from what is known of them, to 
 be a close and enduring one. Any person who 
 knew them both, would not have prophesied 
 that they would have become constant allies 
 and companions, for there was a frankness in 
 the countenance of the younger man, which, 
 if physiognomy can be relied upon, could 
 not well meet with any response from the 
 other. 
 
 Yet there was a bond of friendliness and 
 companionship of a very enduring character. 
 The young man was an unhappy man, who had 
 begun to take very gloomy views of human life. 
 Nothing is more distasteful to such a man than 
 the company of the hopeful and the cheerful. 
 Their bright hopes and their gay speech are 
 almost insults to him, or so he deems them. 
 But he is somewhat comforted when he finds 
 that any other person's views are still darker 
 than his own. Indeed, his views may become 
 comparatively bright by contrast. The great 
 
300 IVAN DE BIROJ^. 
 
 artists know and prove this. It is not until all 
 tlie colours are iu the picture, that you can 
 tell what any colour may seem to be, for 
 this ' seeming ' depends upon the surrounding 
 tints. 
 
 This appreciation of a gloomier nature than 
 his own, was the motive that led the younger 
 man to cultivate the friendship of the elder one. 
 He, on the other hand, studied to make himself 
 agreeable to his young friend from a very dif- 
 ferent reason. Banishment to Siberia was not 
 so severe under the rule of the Empress Eliza- 
 beth as it had been ander former sovereigns,. 
 and, especially, during the time when the Duke 
 of Oourland was prime minister of Russia. The 
 young man was, for Siberia, rich — that is, a 
 small sum was allowed daily for his sustenance ;. 
 whereas, the other was without a kopeck. Now, 
 luxuries at St. Petersburg or Moscow — some- 
 thing more than the barest necessities of life at 
 Pelem — ^were what the elder man most distinctly 
 coveted, and would have sought for at any sacri- 
 fice. He, therefore, in general, adapted his talk 
 to the humour of his companion, and sometimes 
 even went extravagantly beyond it, seeing that 
 this was the best means of securing the other's 
 friendship, and all the good things that followed 
 therefrom. 
 
 The elder man was Nariskoff : his companion 
 was Ivan de Biron. 
 
 The forests in Siberia swarm with wild and 
 fierce animals, not of the grander but of the 
 lower kiad; such as wolves, foxes, martens, 
 wild-cats, and the like. 
 
 The two friends were apparently talking of 
 one of these creatures, for which they evidently 
 entertained a great aversion. 
 
IVAN AND NARISKOFF. 301 
 
 " So fierce when provoked ! " said Nariskoff. 
 . " Yes/' said Ivan. 
 
 " Suck a revengeful creature ! " 
 
 " Hardly great enough for revenge," replied 
 Ivan. 
 
 " So cruel to its own species," said Nariskoff. 
 
 " So deceitful," replied his companion. 
 
 " Sees no further than its own narrow lair, 
 and not much in that," exclaimed the elder 
 man. 
 
 " So false — so false," replied the younger. 
 
 " Feline ! " exclaimed Nariskoff. 
 
 " So fickle — ^lures you on, and then — " 
 
 "So taken by mere finery. Diamonds are her 
 divinities." 
 
 The listener would now have known that the 
 creature these two men were talking of, was not 
 any wild animal of the woods but a woman. 
 
 Now all this was very false talk on Nariskoff's 
 part. He was a devoted admirer of women. It 
 was they who, in his fallen fortunes, had been 
 most kind to him : and he was not unmindfiil of 
 this fact. 
 
 There is a just saying, or at least a plausible 
 one, that it is bad men who speak ill of women. 
 Now Nariskoff was not a bad man, but merely 
 one whose nature was not strong enough to 
 withstand the usual effect of misfortune upon the 
 character.; and, for the moment, he merely said 
 these spiteful things in compliance with the 
 morbid humour of his companion. 
 
 But with Ivan, alas ! it was otherwise. A 
 fine, noble, trustful nature had been deeply 
 affected by the evil which had befaUen it. We 
 speak of ruin chiefly as applied to physical 
 matters and to outward fortune; but there may 
 be such things as ruined natures; and each of 
 
302 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 these men afforded an example of the danger of 
 that sad possibility. 
 
 "They have uniformly been the cause of 
 misery and misfortune to me," said Ivan, resum- 
 ing the conversation. "The weak and pliable 
 Daohess Kegent, with her weak and indolent 
 favourite, Jidiana de Mengden — the voluptuous 
 and shallow-hearted Elizabeth, under whose 
 tyranny we saffer — that wonderflil prima donna, 
 the Signora Hurtaldi (she might have kept her 
 pretty gypsy name, Azra) — that false, hard, and 
 proud Princess Marie Andreevna: — these women, 
 one and all of them, have been a curse to me." 
 
 Nariskoff thought to himself, but did not give 
 voice to the thought " He could not have been 
 more unfortunate with women, even if he had 
 been a man of genius." 
 
 " Do you know where we are, Nariskoff? No : 
 how should you know ! It is a part of the forest 
 which is still resonant with woman's falsehood. 
 
 "You see that trunk of a tree? It has 
 remained here while its kindred logs have been 
 carried away. The thing is wicked — ^is accursed. 
 Here a false girl, has, ere this, allowed a true 
 and loving youth to sit beside her : and has 
 listened to his tale of love with all due maidenly 
 reserve, but still with no unwilling ears, for 
 then, clad in peasant dress, she held herself not 
 so much above him. But diamonds ! diamonds ! 
 as you said, Nariskoff; those bright pebbles 
 make the difference — ^they have hearts of dia- 
 monds, I believe. Let us proceed with the story 
 of the youth and maiden. They interchanged 
 vows of constancy." 
 
 "A scholar such as you, De Biron, having 
 read your Horace and all about him and his 
 Lydia, then talking of ' vows of constancy ' ! «, 
 
IVAN AND NARISKOFF. 303 
 
 phrase at best of travelling pedlarSj picked up 
 from tteir peasant customers. The thing is 
 unknown to, decent people brought up in Peters- 
 burg and Moscow." 
 
 " All ! weUj" resumed Ivan, " I wiU not say 
 what happened besides, but a soft cheek may be 
 no indication of a loving heart. Yes, it was 
 here, she vowed she would be miae. But the air 
 is different in St. Petersburg from that in 
 Siberia. Though nipping here (Ivan shuddered 
 as he spoke) it has some sense of truthfuhiess in 
 it, while at St. Petersburg, if a true man were to 
 speak truly, the shocked atmosphere would not 
 allow the truthful words to be conveyed without 
 some damning perversion into falsehood. Tou 
 should have seen her airs of patronage, when we 
 met in the Palace. She and her courtly father 
 are now, I doubt not, basking in imperial sun- 
 shine." 
 
 "You are fond of walking in this forest, De 
 Biron," said Nariskoff: "you generally contrive 
 that we should turn in this direction ; and I am 
 such an easy-going fellow that I am always, 
 willing to take the road my companions wish, 
 to travel." 
 
 '^ I love it, and I hate it, Nariskoff." 
 
 "You are mostly wrapt in a sublime reverie 
 when you come hither — not a very bright com- 
 panion ! I don't think you see much of what is 
 going on around you here." 
 
 "What should I see?" said Ivan. "I 
 know the trees by heart. They are only less 
 odious to me than the bare, barren, dreary 
 plain with its morasses, on the other side of the 
 town." 
 
 " What a loss it is ! " replied Nariskoff, " not to- 
 have a philosophic mind. I see numberless trans- 
 
304 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 actions in the forest whicli give me ample food 
 for contemplation. Did you notice what I was 
 doing a few minutes ago, near the great spruce 
 tree, while you were leaning against it, and look- 
 ing up into vacancy ?" 
 
 " No : " replied Ivan, in an indifferent tone. 
 
 "WeU, it was a most unphilosophic employ- 
 ment. I was endeavouring to prevent one of the 
 myriad murders which are always being perpe- 
 trated in this peaceful abode of bUss, this forest. 
 An idiotic reptile, a black thing, with many 
 joints and convolutions, was taking his evening 
 walk — if single, thinking of his wayward mis- 
 tress ; if married, thinking of his many family 
 cares ; or, if he had any germ of worldly wisdom, 
 scheming how he should provide himself with 
 supper. And he had the folly to walk near an 
 ant's nest. Out they came upon him, as prompt 
 to their work as Kirgish robbers. But these 
 insects are certainly the most sensible creatures 
 in the world. How different from men ! The 
 ants saw directly that four of their number would 
 be Sufficient to do the business ; and the others 
 turned back in search of other prey. Now men 
 never know how to apportion their numbers to 
 their work." 
 
 "What is it they do know?'' said Ivan. 
 
 " Oh, two or three things," replied Nariskoff. 
 '"The truth is; man is very well in his way: 
 the world is very well in its way: only man 
 is not quite equal to the position which he 
 holds in it. Whether he ever wiU be, is a 
 question." 
 
 "WeU, well," said Ivan, somewhat peev- 
 ishly, "but what about the other insects you 
 saw?" 
 
 "People don't understand me," continued 
 
IVAN AND NARISKOFF. 305 
 
 Nariskoff : " there is a great deal of chivalry in 
 my composition. Ignoring the high probability 
 that the, other ants would attack me, as indeed 
 they did, I rushed to the rescue of my wriggliag, 
 black friend, though, as a general rule, I dislike 
 fools, and do not much care to aid them. But I 
 could do nothing for him, without committing 
 murder, myself. When I brushed off one of his 
 enemies, the others stuck to him all the same, 
 sucking out his life-blood. By the time I had 
 brushed another off, the vigorous little wretch, 
 whom I had first displaced, returned to the- 
 charge. Eventually, poor little blackie and 
 myself became exhausted by our efforts ; and I 
 , was obliged to leave him to his fate. You saw 
 nothing of this heroic struggle." 
 
 "Not much :" said Ivan. 
 
 " If you looked more about you," rejoined 
 Nariskoff, "you would be a wiser and perhapa 
 a happier man. Don^t you see that we are all 
 made to prey and to be preyed upon ? Man is 
 the noblest creature in creation : at least he 
 always says so in his books; and, as the other 
 creatures have had the good sense to conceal 
 their talents for reading and writing, they never 
 care to contradict him. Now, how much too 
 happy men would be, and how unfairly the world 
 would be arranged, if there were no such crea- 
 tures as women to torment those who torment all 
 the other created beings. 
 
 "It's very stupid of you not to understand 
 these things, and to take your ill-fortune, as 
 you call it, so much to heart. Why, I myself, — 
 but that's no matter — it was only the old 
 story." 
 
 " Yes ; old enough no doubt," exclaimed Ivan.. 
 " When there were but ten women in the world 
 
3o6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and seven men, there were ten deceiyers on the 
 earth and seven dupes." 
 
 The words of the young man were so bitter 
 and his gestures so fierce, that Nariskoff, not 
 much accustomed to indulge in feelings of pity, 
 felt for him, and even changed the tone of his 
 rejoinders. He spoke, as a man of the world, of 
 what he was pleased to call the love of young 
 bears before they can walk upright on their hind 
 legs; made excuses both for young men and 
 young women, as regards their delusions in 
 the early spring of life; and, warming with his 
 subject, for the man could be eloquent as well as 
 cynical, he did his best to comfort Ivan. He 
 said that there was a future still before him; 
 that he would yet find his true love, who would 
 be neither princess, nor player : and he drew a 
 droll picture of Ivan as a father of a large family, 
 all of whom would delight in uncle Nariskofi", and 
 climb upon his .knees to hear his wondrous 
 stories about the bears and wolves of the Siberian 
 forests. 
 
 Ivan looked at his friend in astonishment. 
 He was not altogether displeased with this 
 picture, and he was certainly amused at its 
 being depicted by Nariskoff, who had never, 
 hitherto, indulged in such an outburst of 
 gracious fancy. 
 
 " And where is this paragon to come from ? 
 A spirit of the wood, I suppose ! So fierce when 
 provoked, so revengeful, so cruel to its own 
 species, so purblind except in its own small 
 circle, so feline, as a certain wise friend of mine 
 not long ago informed me, and yet — perfection ! 
 And this paragon is to fall in love with a 
 wretched eale." 
 
 " I did not say, De Biron, that she was to be 
 
IVAN AND NARISKOFF. 307 
 
 perfection. Nobody can accuse me of ever 
 attributing perfection to man or woman. But 
 I will teU you sometHng — something whicb is 
 worth, a great deal of money, and of which I 
 could make good barter at St. Petersburg. They 
 talk of first lofe. Poets and poetasters rave 
 •about it. They would have you believe that it is 
 something divine, something which can never be 
 renewed, something which gods and goddesses 
 smile upon benignly. It is all stuff. How should 
 it be otherwise ? " 
 
 Here he paused for a minute or two, and Ivan 
 thought he had ended. Meanwhile, Nariskoff 
 had sat down upon that felled tree of which Ivan 
 had spoken. And he sat, where she had sat. 
 Ivan gently lifted him up. Nariskoff understood 
 it aU; and, with difficulty repressed a smUe. 
 Then he said : " This was my valuable saying. 
 Talk as they may about first love being the 
 lasting one ! It is the last love that lasts, if 
 any." 
 
 The friends walked on in silence to the town ; 
 and Ivan, when he reached his hut, being 
 absorbed ia thought, failed to invite Nariskoff, 
 as had been his wont, to enter with him, and 
 share his evening meal. 
 
 Nariskoff said to himself, as he turned home- 
 ward, "This comes of doing a good-natured 
 thing, but I wiU not again commit the same 
 error." 
 
 x2 
 
BOOK YI. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE AEEIVAL OP THE SEEBATOFFS AT PELEM 
 
 NAEISKOFP'S DESIGN. 
 
 Ivan imagined that Pelem had been chosen 
 as his place of exile for some special reason; 
 and he had puzzled himself in thinking over the 
 question whether this choice was a mark of 
 favour, or the contrary. It was, however, only 
 an instance of the hap-hazard way in which 
 official matters are sometimes settled in despotic 
 countries, and even, occasionally, under consti- 
 tutional governments. 
 
 The order for his exile had come from the 
 minister without any directions as to the place 
 of exHe. A junior clerk had said to another 
 junior in the office : " Where is the poor devil 
 to go to ? There is no place named." 
 
 " Where was he the last time ? " replied the 
 other. 
 
 They looked ; and found that it was Pelem. 
 
 " Let's send him there," said the first speaker. 
 " I dare say he would like it best. You remem- 
 
THE SERBATOPFS AT PELEM. 309 
 
 ber Mni in tte Duke's timp. He often came 
 to the oflB.ce, and lie did not swagger about 
 BO mucli as the other private Secretaries. He 
 had always a good word for a fellow. Enter 
 hiin for the, next batch to Pelem. I say! 
 his barony hasn't done him much good, has 
 it?" 
 
 This was the amount of care and thought 
 which had been given to determine Ivan's place 
 of exile, and, to discover which, he might long 
 have puzzled his brains before arriving at the 
 real solution. 
 
 Ivan was entirely wrong, when, in his last 
 conversation with Nariskoff,' he had pictured 
 the Serbatoffs as revelling in imperial favour. 
 They were, unhappily for them, connected with 
 one or two of the principal persons concerned 
 in the Lapouschin conspiracy. They had even 
 been present at some of the dinners given by 
 the Laponschins, or their friends ; and the con- 
 versation which then took place had been re- 
 ported, if not accurately, at any rate with no 
 desire to render less offensive the terms in 
 which the conduct and character of the Czarina 
 had been commented upon by the guests. It 
 may be imagined how distressing to Prince 
 SerbatofF was any talk defaming the Empress, 
 or indeed any persons in high authority. 'Great 
 were the efforts which he made to divert the 
 conversation into less dangerous channels; and 
 he had, latterly, avoided accepting any invita- 
 tions to houses where he found that this kind 
 of talk was prevalent. His caution, however, 
 came too late : he was already compromised — 
 compromised ! a word of horror to that veteran 
 courtier. Shortly after the time when Ivan 
 had been dismissed from the household, and 
 
3IO IVAN DE BIROJSr. 
 
 condemned to exile, the Serbatoflfs were also 
 arrested and similarly condemned: 
 
 They had, at first, been sent to Tobolsk; 
 but the Princess Marie, or her friends, had 
 still sufficient interest with some of the minor 
 functionaries of government, to contrive, that 
 according to her wish, the family should be 
 removed to Pelem ; and, at the very time when 
 Ivan was declaiming against them, they had 
 arrived at their place of destination. 
 
 The Princess did not know that Ivan was 
 there, nor did she even know that he was exiled. 
 These condemnations came so suddenly, and 
 were so swiftly executed, that even an exile's 
 intimate friends might not, for some time, know 
 anything about the calamity which had befallen 
 him. And there was now no longer any inti- 
 macy between the Serbatoffs and Ivan de Biron. 
 
 The associations which the Princess had with 
 the town and neighbourhood of Pelem, could not 
 have been very painful, or, if painful, were stiU 
 very dear to her; otherwise she would hardly 
 have made the effort, which she did, to get their 
 place of residence changed from Tobolsk to 
 Pelem. The Prince was quite indifferent as re- 
 gards the matter. All places, but where the 
 Court was, were equally distasteful and odious to 
 him. He was one of those men, not uncommonly 
 found in the higher classes of all countries, and 
 notably in our own, who, from their earliest years, 
 having been accustomed to the management of 
 great affairs, acquire an almost passionate love 
 for business, and can in no other way employ 
 their eager, active minds. 
 
 The Prince, in his former term of exile, neither 
 tailored, nor cobbled, nor taught at schools ; nor, 
 though he thought himself a skilful amateur, did 
 
THE SERB A TOFFS A T PELEM. 3 1 1 
 
 lie ever assist at the musical entertainments of the 
 exiles. The phrase, so often used in describing 
 the fate of men situated as he was, really did 
 apply to him. " He languished in exile." But 
 for the loving care of his daughter, and for the 
 love he bore to her, he might soon have died from 
 sheer incapacity to take any interest in life. 
 
 One unpleasant topic was sometimes discussed 
 between the father and the daughter. She might 
 have married into the Bpstuchef family. " We 
 should all have been saved, then," he would 
 exclaim. Against this excellent arrangement 
 there was only the foolish reason on her part that 
 she did not like the particular Bestuchef in 
 question. 
 
 " I am sure I never loved your mother before 
 we married, and you know how happy we were," 
 he would reply. " Ah ! the Dolgorouckis (the 
 late Princess was a Dolgoroucki) were everything 
 then." 
 
 Pelem had, in the course of the last few years, 
 increased in size and importance. A new branch 
 of trade had been established there, that of furs 
 of the coarser kind ; and there were now some 
 small houses of a better class than the log huts 
 which had been occupied by the exiles in former 
 days. The Serbatoffs had one of these small 
 houses allotted to them. 
 
 The society of the town, too, had improved. 
 Field Marshal Miinnich was there, occupying the 
 house of his old enemy, the Duke of Courland. 
 This great general was not to be subdued by 
 adversity. He taught a school : he 'built a 
 church : he was, in fact, one of those men who 
 bring with them life and animation wherever they 
 go, and who maintain a certain cheerfulness 
 under whatever adverse circumstances they may 
 be placed. 
 
312 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Ivan remained in ignorance ttat the Serbatoffs 
 "were his companions in misfortunCj and that 
 their dwelling was not more than a stone's 
 throw from his own log hut — the one, by the way, 
 which the Serbatoffs had inhabited previously, 
 and which Ivan had contrived to gain fen? himself, 
 giving up in exchange one of the smaller houses 
 which had been assigned to him. The fiiendly 
 feeling of the junior clerk had not exhausted 
 itself in naming a place of exile for Ivan which 
 he thought would be preferred by him ; but had 
 subsequently ensured an especially favourable 
 treatment for him at this place of esle. 
 
 And here it may be remarked, that the quality 
 which had gained for Ivan much favour from 
 this junior clerk, was one which sometimes in- 
 jured his repute. The world is slow to believe 
 in the truthfulness of very kind people, and in- 
 deed, mostly goes further than that, and is wont to 
 suspect untruthfulness in them. This can hardly 
 ever be otherwise, for most persons are prone to 
 assign motives to any action they contemplate ; 
 and those motives must be such as, in some mea- 
 sure, accord with their own feelings or experience. 
 When, therefore, a very kind-hearted man goes 
 beyond the average kindness of other persons, in 
 his conduct or behaviour, the majority of men, 
 not being able to imagine a degree of kindness 
 which is foreign to their own natures and expe- 
 rience, must invent a motive for such conduct or 
 behaviour, other than mere kindliness. 
 
 Ivan, who, from his earhest years, had devoted 
 himself to the doing of kindly actions, for which 
 he possessed great opportunity when he was the 
 Duke of Courland's Secretary, had, amongst un- 
 disceming people, the reputation of not having 
 been altogether a true man. It was a very self- 
 
THE , SERB A TOFFS A T PELEM. 3 1 3 
 
 seeking age ; the Court of Russia afforded a field 
 for very sinister actions and designs ; and Ivan 
 underwent the danger, whicli is always expe- 
 rienced by one who is morally in advance of the 
 people, amongst whom his lot is thrown — a 
 ■danger fully equal to that of being intellectually 
 in advance of those with whom it is a man's fate 
 to live. 
 
 It was not surprising that Ivan remained 
 ignorant for some time of the presence at Pelem 
 •of the Serbatoff family. He had become a great 
 student. Originally having received what was 
 thought a good education for those days, he had 
 greatly strengthened that education during his 
 former exUe, when he was ia the same house 
 with his master the Duke of Courland. 
 
 The means for doing so were afforded to him. 
 in this way. The Duke's judicial examination 
 at Schliisselberg, previously to his exile at 
 Pelem, had been far less unfavourable to him 
 than his enemies had expected. He had, more- 
 over, written a letter to the late Duchess Regent, 
 which could hardly be read, even by an enemy, 
 without eliciting some admiration for the Duke's 
 character, and some sympathy for his hard fate. 
 It was a dignified and noble letter. In it, the 
 Duke declared that he wanted nothing for him- 
 self, no alleviation of his own sufferings, but 
 merely that the Duchess Regent should not 
 punish those friends and relations of his who 
 were totally guiltless of offence to her. 
 
 Certain it is the Duke's conduct, on his down- 
 fall, won so much favour with the Duchess 
 Regent as to cause some solace to be provided 
 for him in his exile. His books were sent to 
 him. It may be doubted whether the moody, 
 miserable man derived much comfort from these 
 
314 IVAN DE BIR ON. 
 
 booksj or whether he even looked into them; 
 but Ivan profited by them, and was encouraged 
 by the Duke to prosecute his studies. Now, in 
 Ivan's second time of exile, ardent study was 
 his only comfort, and the great satirists were his 
 favourite authors. He was never weary of" 
 reading Horace, Eabelais, Moliere and Mon- 
 taigne. 
 
 With none of the other exiles, but Nariskofi", 
 had Ivan made any acquaintance : and con- 
 sequently he was not likely to hear from them 
 of the addition that had been made to their 
 number. 
 
 Twenty-four hours had not passed after the 
 arrival of Prince Serbatoff and his motherless 
 daughter (the Princess Serbatoff had died at 
 St. Petersburg,) before the busy, prying Naris- 
 koff was aware of that arrival. A- great scheme 
 entered into his head — a scheme combining that 
 good nature of his early days when he was 
 loving to his serfs, with the cynical super- 
 structure which he had allowed to rise upon, 
 and, for the most part, to crush, his earlier 
 hopes and aspirations. 
 
 He would ascertain whether the Princess was 
 this cruel, vain, proud woman that Ivan depicted 
 her to be ; and whether there was any of that 
 affection for the young man still remaining in 
 her breast, which he had described (in most 
 exaggerated terms, as Nariskoff suspected) as 
 ha.ving existed in former days. What especially 
 delighted Nariskoff in his plan, and what he 
 anticipated would be endless food for satirical 
 enjoyment, was that he would be able to play upon 
 the vanity of both of them, making them believe 
 that each was almost dying with love for the other.. 
 
NAEISKOFF'S DESIGN. 315 
 
 Nariskoff rubbed his bands witb delight when 
 he thought of thiSj and imagined how he should 
 bring it about. 
 
 " The fools, the fools ! " he exclaimed to him- 
 self. "They talk of love, but omit the little 
 word that should always go before it — 'self.' 
 Let me see, I shall be fifty-seven my next birth- 
 day, and I am not exactly the man whom young 
 ladies fall in love with. Yet if there were but 
 another amiable Nariskoff to plead my cause 
 with any young maiden, teUing her that I was 
 dying for love of her, I should succeed, I know 
 I should. No satirists — not Ivan's Horaces,. 
 Molieres, or Montaignes — ^have ever sounded 
 the deep sea of human vanity ; or, if they sounded 
 it, did not read off their soundings to the world. 
 They dare not do so. No man would believe 
 them if they did : none at least if we except the 
 two or three wise men of their time ; and there 
 are few Nariskoffs, I trow, besides the one in. 
 Russia, in this generation." 
 
 Thus Nariskoff reasoned. For some days he 
 was almost as moody as Ivan himself, deeply 
 meditating his great project, and contriving that 
 Ivan should, for the present, be kept in ignorance 
 of the arrival of the Serbatoffs, until he, Naris- 
 koff, had matured his plan, p,nd commenced its 
 execution. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 NAEISKOFP MEITS THE PEmCESS MAEIE. 
 
 It was not long before Nariskoff found 
 tte opportunity lie sought for. He had haunted 
 the wood adjoining Pelem at all hours of the 
 day; and it was towards the evening of the 
 ninth day after the Princess Marie's arrival, that 
 he was fortunate enough to meet her walking in 
 that cleared pathway in the forest which led 
 towards the town. She was not alone, being 
 followed by a white dog marked here and there 
 with black spots about the head, of the bull- 
 terrier species — ^that most affectionate and most 
 intelligent of the canine race, as those affirm 
 it to be who understand its very expressive, 
 though as some think, very uncomely counte- 
 nance. Having been brought from England, 
 it had received the name of Ingel. 
 
 Nariskoff at once accosted the Princess. 
 
 " I almost wonder to find you. Princess, walk- 
 ing here alone. Are you not afraid ? " 
 
NARISKOFF MEETS THE PRINCESS. 317 
 
 " No, not with Ingel at my side. It would 
 be but faint praise to say that he is a truer 
 friend than most men; but he is a truer friend 
 than most dogs; and that is, indeed, sayiug 
 something worth saying in his favour." 
 
 Meanwhile Ingel, finding himself the subject 
 of conversation, looked up at NariskofF and made 
 those expressive winkings of the eyes, and move- 
 ments of the ,nose which, in that race of dogs, 
 indicate somewhat of doubt, and somewhat of 
 dishke. Nariskoff bent down to pat the anitnal, 
 but this- indication of friendship was only re- 
 ceived by a threatening growl, upon which 
 Nariskoff ceased to make any further demonstra- 
 tions of friendly regard. 
 
 " But why are yov, here, Nariskoff ? I should 
 not have thought that they would have cared 
 to rid themselves of you, though I doubt not 
 you were much more guilty than ourselves, with 
 that provoking tongue of yours, which must run 
 on in censure, even when our Empress is the 
 subject of the conversation." 
 
 It may here be remarked that Nariskoff, not- 
 withstanding the little aid or service he had 
 rendered to the Princess's family when they 
 were last ia exile, was somewhat of a favourite 
 of hers. Like many other persons of a satirical 
 turn, she was not sorry to listen to the satire 
 which she would not condescend, herself, to 
 utter. 
 
 She resumed the conversation, by asking him 
 whether he had had any other punishment to 
 undergo, thus delicately referring to the knout. 
 He answered, " No." She then spoke in detail, 
 and with much bitterness, of the cruelty that 
 had been exercised upon the Countess La- 
 pouschin, whereupon he said, " Who is imprudent 
 now. Princess ? " 
 
3i8 IVAN DE BIROMt 
 
 "\ can trust you, Nariskoff. You would not 
 liarm uSj thougL. I cannot say that tlie last time 
 we were in this horrid place, you proved yourself 
 a faithful friend." 
 
 " A starving man, Princess, has Uttle time for 
 friendship. Friendship is a luxury. The fuU-fed 
 can afford to be friendly. But is there anything 
 I can do now ? " 
 
 "Nothing, Nariskoff. It must be said for 
 Elizabeth that she is not so barbarous as Biron 
 was ; and we have enough to eat and drink and 
 sufficient fuel to warm our wretched selves with, 
 though, for my part, I am not sure whether this, 
 is any kindness to us." 
 
 Nariskoff thought that there was now a good 
 opportunity for bringing about some talk upon 
 the subject he had in view ; and he replied. 
 
 " You did not then. Princess, find the labour 
 so severe last time ? Doubtless it was lightened 
 by companionship ? I think there used to be a 
 young man — " 
 
 " Yes, several persons were good enough last 
 time to aid me ia what I could do for my poor 
 father and mother. I wish I could remember, 
 Nariskoff, that you had been one of them." 
 
 After this rebuff, to which Nariskoff could 
 make no reply, they walked on in silence for 
 some Httle time, until, on the return towards the 
 town, they came to that spot which has so often 
 been mentioned in this story — the seat on which 
 th^ lovers in former days had sat. 
 
 The Princess remained standing here for some 
 minutes, though Nariskoff beckoned to her to 
 take the seat near to the tree, which, as he 
 remarked, seemed to have been made by some 
 benevolent person, happily combining art with 
 nature. 
 
J<rARISKOFF MEETS THE PRINCESS. 319 
 
 The Princess sat down : whereupon Nariskoflf 
 observed that there were some persons, though, 
 who evidently thought that there was danger in 
 sitting there. 
 
 "The other day," said he, "I was walking 
 -with a young man, — not so very young though, — 
 for there are some of those stupid grey hairs on 
 his head as on mine, which give one most unwel- 
 come hints — " 
 
 " Well, but about the young old man, Naris- 
 koff ? What did he do to you ? " 
 
 " He took me by the shoulders in the rudest 
 manner, lifted me up, and said I must not sit 
 there. He is a very wild young man — half- 
 crazed, I thiuk, — always talking of the injuries 
 which women have done him — empresses and 
 actresses and princesses. You know that I have 
 some little gift of speech;, but I can make no- 
 thing of him. He wiU not listen to me when I 
 endeavour to persuade him that women are the 
 crown of creation, — consolers, comforters, sym- 
 pathizers — their companionship the one joy for 
 man, overcoming all his sorrows ; and that, at 
 the bottom of Pandora's casket, it was not 
 Hope, as those hard ancients say^ but woman's 
 love that was lying there, in itself sufficient to 
 ■control and conquer all forms of human misery 
 and suffering." 
 
 The Princess looked fixedly and inquiringly 
 at NariskofF while he was uttering this tirade ; 
 but his impassive countenance did not betray 
 any particular or private interest in the subject. 
 He continued : 
 
 "You must have seem him. He was here 
 when we were last here, Princess. Some people 
 go to Paris, some to Vienna, more than once 
 in their life-time. We choose Pelem; do we 
 
320 IVAN JDE BJRON. 
 
 not ? A lovelyj luxuriant spot ! What cliarming 
 colours the morasses afford for artists ! You 
 were, yourself, no mean amateur. Princess, if I 
 recollect rightly. Well, but about this young 
 man, this woman-hater : he was a Secretary of 
 Courland's. If I recollect rightly, you gave him 
 letters home. He was recalled, you know, be- 
 fore we were. A Baron now. Baron Ivan de 
 Biron." 
 
 The Princess concealed her emotion by the 
 expression of great astonishment. " What, is he 
 here ? I thought he was in high favour with the 
 Empress.-" 
 
 "No," replied Nariskoffj "the young, man 
 must have told the truth on some occasion. It 
 is diflBcult to break oneself of that bad habit. I 
 should not have been with you in this wood. 
 Princess, but for my truthful nature. The Baron 
 occupies that splendid residence which was once 
 graced by your fair presence. I sometimes 
 honour him by my good company. But he is 
 a dull dog. He has only one subject to talk 
 about, and no novelty in that. The Empress 
 is not the only lady he rails at. You should 
 have heard his abuse at this very spot of all 
 your faithless, wicked sex." 
 
 "Then Azra, I mean Madame Hurtaldi the 
 great actress, is not gracious to him," she re- 
 plied ; " for it was said that he was her devoted 
 lover. Such at least was common report. Pve 
 often seen him at St. Petersburg; and he was 
 very kind to my father when we were last 
 here." 
 
 " You will not see much of him now. Princess, 
 for he is always at his books. The young man 
 threatens to become a duU pedant. If it were 
 not a cruel thing to say, I am so glad that you 
 
NARISKOFF MEETS THE PRINCESS. 321 
 
 are here, for now I shall have somebody to talk 
 to. He is so wearisome. And then, as you may 
 imagine, we are inclined to quarrel. What can 
 one say to a fellow who has only got to tell one 
 that women are false, cold-hearted, perverse, sly, 
 treacherous, I know not what. You know how 
 differently I think, Princess. The last time we 
 were here, I am sure I thought he was talking 
 of some wild animal of the woods; but it 
 proved to be only a woman that was in his 
 thoughts." 
 
 " A. woman ? " said the Princess. 
 
 " No : all women. But there was one wha 
 was worse than the rest. Some peasant girl 
 whom he had known here. The Baron's loves- 
 are not of an exalted kind. All other women, 
 bad as they are, were good when compared with 
 her. She was the falsest of the false. I sup- 
 pose she loved some other youth when he went 
 away." 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed the Princess. 
 
 " Tou knew her then ? " said Nariskoff. 
 
 "No," replied the Princess. "I only speak 
 for the honour of our sex. Men lay their false- 
 ness upon us ; and -yvhat they call our falseness 
 is but a faint reflection of their own." 
 
 "I wish you had been here the other day. 
 Princess. I should then have had an ally ; and 
 should have been happy to fight under your- 
 banner." 
 
 The Princess was silent for a minute, meditat- 
 ing what response she should make. It was 
 infinitely vexatious to her to think that this 
 talkative, satirical man knew, perhaps, more 
 than he pretended to know about the former 
 relations between Ivan and herself. She recol- 
 lected, as if it had been yesterday, how their 
 
3 22 IVAN DE BJRON. 
 
 parting at Pelem had been suddenly broken off by 
 the appearance of Nariskoff and his attendant 
 foolj Matchka, in the street. To plead anything 
 like ignorance of Ivan, or, indeed, to pretend 
 that her relations with him had been otherwise 
 than most friendly, would only arouse, or deepen, 
 this man's suspicions. She, therefore, said : 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Nariskoff, how sorry I am 
 to hear this news. We had the greatest regard 
 for Ivan de Biron — both my father and myself. 
 Indeed, the Prince was most anxious to be of 
 service to him at Court ; but his rise was too 
 rapid to allow of my father's being of any use 
 to him. Ivan should not rail against the Em- 
 press, for phe was his greatest benefactress ; and 
 that, too, after he had taken an active part 
 against her on that memorable night of her 
 seizure of the throne. I heard the Empress, 
 myself, tell all about it. And as for Azra, (I 
 knew her well before she became the great 
 Madame Hurtaldi) I am sure she could not 
 have been unkind to him." 
 
 It was not without set purpose that the 
 Princess had, in the foregoing sentences, used 
 Ivan's christian name, in order to show that she 
 readily acknowledged a certain intimacy. Naris- 
 koff resumed the conversation. 
 
 " Yes, I agree with you, Princess. This Azra, 
 as you call her, was not the worst-behaved young 
 lady. It was the peasant girl of whom he spoke 
 with most bitterness — the one who had deceived 
 him here. I am not a very clever man in love 
 matters, but I would lay my life that she had 
 sat upon that seat where you are sitting now. 
 Princess. That's the reason why he dragged me 
 up from it so angrily. He would be jealous of 
 your sitting there, I dare say. Try him some 
 
NARISKOFF MEETS THE PRINCESS. 343 
 
 day, Princess, if you should happen to meet 
 with, him." 
 
 " My good Nariskoff," she replied, " Ivan de 
 Biron was a great friend of mine when we were 
 last here, and I do not see why I should repay 
 his former kindness by endeavouring to plague 
 him with the remembrance of a lost love.'" 
 
 " I don't know that she is lost," replied 
 Nariskoff. " He spoke of her still with a sort 
 of fond bitterness that made me think that she 
 was still very dear to him — dearer than all. This 
 could hardly be, if she had married some peasant 
 youth of her own standing. She is somewhere 
 far away ; or, at least he seemed to think so, 
 when he was talking of her." 
 
 " The young man appears to be somewhat 
 liberal in. his loves and likings," said the Prin- 
 cess. "We certainly heard at St. Petersburg, 
 that he followed the Signora Hurtaldi every- 
 where." 
 
 As she said these words, the Princess stooped 
 down, apparently to aid ui the researches which 
 Ingel was busily making at a suspected hole 
 near her feet. But this gesture might have 
 been made to conceal from Nariskoff the expres- 
 sion in her face which she felt she could not 
 master. 
 
 "I know but little, as T said before of love 
 matters," Nariskoff replied ; " but I have noticed 
 that this liberality of liking, or loving, is 
 apt to come upon a man who has met with 
 some great disappointment which he never 
 forgets." 
 
 " I plead equal ignorance with you, Nariskoff, 
 without having your fineness of observation as 
 regards other people. But, methinks, we have 
 talked enough of this somewhat gloomy subject, 
 
 t2 
 
324 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 for I pity Ivan very much. He was such a good 
 and kind young fellow in former days. I sup- 
 pose that success has somewhat spoilt him. Ah, 
 Nariskoff, you have not been tried in that cru- 
 cible. It might remove all that superfluous- 
 good nature which must now be so troublesome 
 to you." 
 
 Nariskoff was somewhat nettled by this speech, 
 and was preparing a sharp reply, but the Prin- 
 cess, who was anxious to bring the conversation, 
 to an end, interrupted his meditations. 
 
 "See how beseechingly Ingel looks up at me,^*^ 
 she exclaimed. " Not being able to induce that 
 rat or squirrel he has been looking after, to keep 
 him company, he wishes me to take some notice 
 of him. And besides he almost says, it is 
 getting very cold. I think we ought to go- 
 home. Have you ever observed, Nariskoff, but. 
 perhaps you don't care about animals, how much 
 dogs resemble men, in their love of change, and 
 their fickleness of purpose. They are wild to 
 come out; and then wild to get home again.. 
 They must have picked up this changeful humour 
 from the men they have lived with so much; 
 and Ingel, though the best dog in the world, 
 is not ia this respect superior to his race. You 
 need not come with me. He is sufficient pro- 
 tection, and I must not shorten your walk. 
 The hght of the moon is most favourable to- 
 the meditations of such philosophers as you 
 are." 
 
 So saying, the Princess rose from her seat; 
 and, bowing to Nariskoff, walked swiftly towards 
 the town. 
 
 When left to himself, Nariskoff exclaimed: 
 "A clever girl; a very clever girl; but not so 
 clever as she thinks. How well she parried. 
 
NARISKOFF MEETS THE PRINCESS. 325 
 
 though, my best home-thrusts. I wouldn^t mind 
 being in love with her myself, if it were any 
 use to be so. It is a very stupid thing of Nature 
 that makes us least agreeable to look at when 
 we are most agreeable to talk to. Besides the 
 wisest men, from Socrates downwards, have 
 never been happy in their management of these 
 women. It takes all one's time, you see, to 
 manage any one of them : and we wise men 
 have seldom this time to spare. But perhaps, 
 after aU, Nature is right. When we question 
 her closely she has generally a good answer to 
 give us. We should then be too loveable, if we 
 were not to diminish in beauty as we advance 
 in wisdom. No, no, it would not do. They 
 would be too miserable when they had to part 
 from us." 
 
 It was in such thoughts as these that Nariskoff 
 indulged duriag the short time that he remained 
 in the forest, to enjoy the brightness of the 
 moon, which the Princess had told him was so 
 favourable to the meditations of the philosophic 
 mind. 
 
EOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 NAEISKOIP'S SUBSEQUENT INTEEVIIW WITH IVAN DE 
 
 BiEON — Ivan's state ow mind — the princess 
 
 Naeiskofi' resolved now to commence Ms 
 attack in the other quarter. He paid a visit to 
 Ivan in his log-hut ; and found the young man, 
 as usual, deeply immersed in his studies. He 
 was reading the De Senectute of Cicero, which 
 naturally led to Nariskoff's uttering sundry say- 
 iags aboat youth and old age. It was his cue 
 not to appear to have any particular design in 
 this visit, and so he was pleased to find any 
 general subject which he could readily discuss. 
 He said that he believed there was once one man 
 who was contented with his age, and this was a 
 middle-aged man. The same man was also con- 
 tented with his height, and did not wish to be an 
 inch taUer or shorter. Boys long to clamber up 
 to youthhood : youths, what fools ! aspire to man- 
 hood : men of mature age sigh for the Ught- 
 hearted joys of youth: and old men revenge 
 
J^AjRISKOFF'S interview. 327 
 
 themselves upon the world for not growing as 
 dull as they do, by bestowing upon it all the 
 tediousness of old age. Ivan listened with im- 
 patience to his friend's comments, not very 
 novel, on this subject, and showed a wish to 
 resume his studies. 
 
 Then Nariskoff brought forth the great news 
 ■w;hich he had come to tell — namely the arrival of 
 the exiled Prince SerbatofiF and his daughter at 
 Pelem. The somewhat malicious narrator en- 
 joyed the confusion and excitement which this 
 intelligence, he could easily see, produced in 
 Ivan's mind. There was no longer any wish on 
 Ivan's part to resume the study of the De Senec- 
 tute, for he sought with eagerness to extract 
 from Nariskoff every detail that he could teU 
 him. What was the cause of their exile ? Was 
 she looking well ? Was she altered ? Did she 
 know who were her companions in exile ? Ivan 
 did not venture to ask the question directly. Did 
 she know that he was there ? 
 
 NariskofiPs replies grew colder and more re- 
 served as Ivan's questioning became more and 
 more eager. At length the wily man proposed 
 a walk in the forest — a proposal which was 
 readily accepted by Ivan, in the hope of hearing 
 something more about the Serbatoffs. 
 
 It was when they were alone in that vast wood 
 that Nariskoff gave full vent to his imaginative 
 powers. He was not the ki nd of man to keep 
 within the sober bounds of truth, when he had a 
 purpose in hand — a purpose too, of which he was 
 very proud. He narrated the conversation 
 which he had had with the Princess, but did not 
 fail to throw in sundry starts, and sighs, and 
 blushes, which that proud young woman would 
 have been the last person in the world to have 
 
328 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 indulged iiij especially in the presence of one 
 whose malicious character she knew so well as 
 she did that of Nariskoff. 
 
 Ivan saw at once that the picture was highly 
 coloured, but still there was something in it 
 which was very interesting to him, and which he 
 could not make up his mind wholly to disbelieve. 
 One part was certainly, true, and that was the 
 aversion which Nariskoff described as being his 
 feeling towards that " detestable animal,'^ " that 
 little EngUsh brute " which the Princess made so 
 much of. But then, as he said, they always 
 make so much of those creatures when they have 
 nothing else to pet. 
 
 The conversation was a long one ; and when it 
 had ended, and when Ivan was at home and 
 alone again, it furnished him with much food for 
 thought. 
 
 The state of Ivan^s mind, as regards his affec- 
 tions, was at this time, most bewildered and 
 most miserable. It has before been mentioned 
 that the ideal of life to him, the great object of 
 his ambition, had been to be supremely loved. 
 This is by no means a high order of ambition. 
 The saying "If I love thee, what is that to 
 thee," indicates a much higher and nobler form 
 of the affections ; but it would be depicting the 
 character oi this young man falsely, if it were said 
 that he was capable of this, the noblest form of 
 loving. On the contrary, it is not unfair to him 
 to say that this desire to be loved, descended even 
 into a desire to be liked ; and had, perhaps, been . 
 the cause of his anxiety to be kind and gracious 
 to all those with whom he had any converse, and 
 to win even the minor affections of his fellow- 
 men. 
 
 He had once, and for all, given up the hope of 
 
IVAN'S STATE OF MIND. 329 
 
 winning sucli |ove from Azra as would satisfy 
 him. Had slie sought him outj even in exile, he 
 would not have accepted her love burdened with 
 the condition that her art was to partake that 
 love with him. After much thought he had re- 
 nounced her; and, with that renunciation, had 
 given up all hopes of being loved as he desired 
 to be. He was singularly alone in the world. 
 He had parted from his family when young. He 
 had not detected, though perhaps it was there, 
 any loving regard on the part of his master, the 
 Duke of Courland ; and the friendship which he 
 had offered to his brother private secretary, the 
 Englishman, had been received in a truly British 
 manner, in which poor Ivan did not perceive any 
 of the warmth and real kindness which lay under 
 it. All these causes had driven him into a 
 studious life ; and even before this, his second 
 exile, he had borne the character in St. Peters- 
 burg of a moody, studious man. The Empress, 
 while he was in favour, used to speak of him as 
 her young scholar ; and would playfully ask him, 
 when receiving his reports, what the wisdom of 
 the ancients was pleased to say that could en- 
 lighten us about our modem doings. Elizabeth 
 had really entertained a great Uking for the un- 
 worldly young man, as she thought him to be ; 
 had thoroughly beHeved in his fidelity ; and had 
 been all the more enraged when the reports of 
 those vile spies, grossly exaggerated, told of his 
 presence at entertainments where her character 
 and conduct had been so maliciously, if so justly, 
 •defamed. 
 
 It would be untruthful to say that Ivan did 
 not often think of the Princess Marie ; and now, 
 at Pelem, there were many things that recalled 
 those reminiscences which he could not but feel 
 
330 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 were still so dear to him. He marvelled thougk 
 at her baseness. It deepened all his severe and 
 bitter views of human nature when he revisited 
 those spotSj which had been the 'silent witnesses 
 of those mutual vows of undying affection which 
 had so often been exchanged between them 
 according to the usual practice of lovers, who 
 must say the same thing, in the same words, 
 over and over again. 
 
 And what were her feelings ? They were the 
 same as they had ever been. She was the really 
 true lover, whose love had never changed ; who 
 had loved him even the most at the time when, 
 thinking their love hopeless, and desiring that it 
 should not be the ruin of hia life, she had sought, 
 alas too skilfully ! to divert that love into 
 another channel. The Searcher of all hearts 
 could only know in its fulness, what that devoted 
 girl had suffered, while she had endeavoured to 
 make Azra worthy of the love of Ivan, and when 
 she found that her efforts had been successful. 
 
 Much was altered now. Ivan was no longer 
 an obscure youth, but one whom statesmen had 
 been wont to recognize as a rising young man. 
 Although the Serbatoffs and Ivan had rarely met 
 in the society of St. Petersburg, there was no 
 one so well acquainted with all the details of his 
 career, with all the hopes that lay before him, as 
 the Princess Marie. She had even fought his 
 battle for him with Azra; and Ivan little 
 imagined that on that very day, a day so fatal to 
 him, as he tholight, when Azra refused his offer, 
 and when the officer demanded from him his 
 sword previously to conveying him to Schliissel- 
 burg, the Princess Marie had been closeted with 
 Azra, and had pleaded Ivan's cause, with all, the 
 eloquence of which she was mistress. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARIES FEELINGS. 331 
 
 Had Ivan still been true to tie Princess, ttete 
 might no longer have been much, difficulty with 
 her father. The Prince was now a thoroughly- 
 broken- spirited man. Even if he should be re- 
 caUedj of which he had no hope, his courtier-like 
 sagacity foresaw that his time had passed, and 
 that there was but little chance for him of being 
 reinstated in that official place and power which 
 were so dear to him. He had become utterly 
 dependent upon his daughter; and she knew 
 that it was no longer his will, but hers, which 
 governed. 
 
 NariskofiPs talk, though she greatly doubted 
 the man's sincerity, had not been without its 
 effect upon her. Proud as she was, her pride 
 could not contend against her love ; and she 
 longed, with all the longing that she had known 
 in her earlier days of courtship, to see Ivan 
 again, and to discover if any relic, even the 
 faintest, existed of his former great affection for 
 her. This was a very humble thought for the 
 haughty Princess to entertain; but it was as 
 sincere and genuine as it was humble. 
 
 That beneficent law of compensation, which 
 applies to most human affairs, was not whoUy 
 inert when dealing even with such a calamity as 
 exile. There are few thiigs more desirable for a 
 hmnan being than that there should be sudden 
 breaks in the ordinary routine of his existence. 
 Great kings were wont, in ancient times, to go into 
 retreat in monasteries, from whence, let us hope, 
 they occasionally emerged as better men. BxHe, 
 terrible as it was, afforded one of those breaks in 
 the continuity of life which are often so service- 
 ■ able to the soul. The course of most men's 
 iuner lives is like that of one who is placed upon 
 an inclined plane ; and, when once started, the 
 
332 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 man descends in an unvarying fashionj and with 
 only the change that is produced by accelerated 
 speed. There is little opportunity for a profound 
 review, to be made by himself, of his conduct, 
 his opinions, or his habits. 
 
 The exile, on the contrary, diverted from all 
 his former occupations, entering upon what 
 might well be called a new life, with new com- 
 panions, new surrounding scenery, above all new 
 relations to the fellow-creatures who were near- 
 est to him, must, perforce, have entertained 
 new thoughts ; and though, humanly speaking, 
 it may appear to have been a great disaster for 
 men lite Marshal Miinnich and the Duke of 
 Oourland to have been suddenly wrenched from 
 power and sent into exQe, it was perhaps one of 
 the greatest benefits which could have been pro- 
 vided for them. Though this effect was, na- 
 turally, most potent and most vivid in cases such 
 as theirs, it was also very potent in the case of 
 those younger and minor personages, such as 
 Ivan de Biron and the Princess Marie, who were 
 subjected to it. 
 
BOOK YI. 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 MAKSHAL MUNNICH AS AN EXILE — INVITES DB BIEON 
 TO HIS HOrSE. 
 
 Maeshal MiJNNiCH was the great man at 
 Pelem ; and, as was said before, the extraordinary- 
 vivacity of this renowned General was not to be 
 dulled by any adverse circumstances. The vigour 
 which he had shown upon the banks of the Pruth, 
 or in his battles with the great SerasMer, was no 
 greater than that which he manifested in organ- 
 izing and leading society in obscure little Pelem. 
 The General gave parties; and, to the asto- 
 nishment of the new exiles, he had resolved to 
 invite Ivan de Biron; a fact which was known 
 to the gossips of the town, and was much can- 
 vassed by them, not altogether with approval. 
 They did not see that circumstances were much 
 altered. In the first place the General had 
 become a very religious man ; and, in accordance 
 with that spirit, it was his duty to forgive his 
 enemies, especially those whom he had more 
 particiolarly injured. In the next, Miinnich felt 
 
334 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 tHat he had had the better of his great enemy, 
 the Duke of Courland. Then too, the Field 
 Marshal had been greatly disgusted with the 
 ingratitude, as he held it to be, of the Duchess 
 Regent towards him. " If it had all to come 
 over again " he would say to his familiar friends, 
 " I almost think I would rather have stood by 
 the Regent Duke, false as he is, than by that 
 falser, feebler creature, the Duchess Regent. 
 " Tou know, my dear," he would say, when 
 talking to his wife of the past, "that when 
 you woinen are bad, and weak, you are worse 
 and weaker than even men are." 
 
 All these impressions might not have prevailed 
 with Miinnich to induce him to receive and wel- 
 come any one bearing the hated name of Biron, 
 had it not been for a circumstance apparently 
 very slight, which yet had great effect. It is 
 these minor motives which often make the larger 
 ones converge to a conclusion. That new church 
 which the Field Marshal had caused to be built, 
 was now his favourite hobby. Ivan de Biron's 
 voice, though somewhat uncultivated, was a very 
 sonorous one; and the Field Marshal had been 
 told that he would do well to secure him as a 
 leader of the choir. 
 
 Accordingly it happened that to the first party 
 which Miinnich gave after the arrival of the 
 Serbatoffs, Ivan was invited. 
 
 He was at first rather doubtful as to accepting 
 the invitation ; but he, too, had his little motive 
 which was very potent with him. The Princess 
 Marie would doubtless be there. He would like 
 to see how she would receive him. How would 
 that false girl now behave to him ? 
 
 Nariskoff^s description might be highly co- 
 loured, but still there was probably some truth 
 
MUNNICH INVITES DE BIRON. 335 
 
 in it. Doubtless the Princess saspected that 
 Nariskoff knew what had really happened, and 
 wished to put herself in the right, even with him. 
 False as they are, Ivan said to himself, they do 
 not like that other men should know how false 
 they are. He recollected their meeting at the 
 Empress's first ball at St. Petersburg. He could 
 play that part which she had then played 
 so well. He could be the kind, gracious, 
 patronizing friend. He was now the older 
 inhabitant at Pelem — the one who had a right 
 to patronize and to proffer service to the new 
 comers. 
 
 It was with such bitter thoughts as these, 
 in which there was a certain sweetness mingled 
 with the bitterness, that Ivan prepared to attend 
 the Field Marshal's party. 
 
 " I suppose," he said to himself, " Miinnich 
 has no new act' of treason in his head. He 
 cannot seize upon me as he did before, and send 
 me farther into exile." 
 
 All Ivan's previous thoughts and reasonings 
 must have been much disturbed and controverted 
 by the way in which the Field Marshal did in 
 faict receive him. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "Ah, Biron. We had a Httle 
 the better of you, my young friend, when last we 
 had dealings with you. How is his Highness 
 the ex-Eegent ? would he were here to-night, 
 though I fear he bears me fer more malice than 
 I do him. We have both been the dupes of a 
 woman. Baron. You see some of us are not so 
 young as you ; and even you young fellows are 
 sometimes duped as much as the old ones are. 
 Ha ! the beautiful Marie Andreevna," exclaimed 
 the general, suddenly perceiving the entrance of 
 the Princess. " It cannot be said that we poor 
 
336 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 exiles at Pelem are much to be pitied while w& 
 have the greatest beauty of Elizabeth's court 
 with us, — Bh ! Baron. I am sure it is not for us 
 young men to regret our q-s^q." 
 
 So saying, the gallant Marshal made his way 
 to that part of the room where the Countess 
 Miinnich was receiving her guests. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE CONDUCT OF THE PEINCIPAL PERSONAGES AT THE 
 marshal's PARTY. 
 
 It had been with very gloomy thoughts, 
 and in a very hard and determined frame of 
 mindj that Ivan had entered a house which had 
 been the scene of so much misery, and yet of so 
 much joy to him. Here it was that he had often 
 covertly watched the Duke of Courland — longing,, 
 but unable, to soothe the wretchedness of his 
 great fellow exile ; striving, but unable, to divert 
 his own mind from the unavailing contemplation 
 of this wretchedness. It seemed a kind of pro- 
 fanation to him, that this house should now be 
 the scene of aught that was festive. He be- 
 thought him of what his Italian mother had once 
 told him of some grand palace — was it in Venice, 
 Mantua, or Milan, he could not remember? — 
 where the state rooms were over the prison, so 
 that the prisoners dimly partook of any palatial 
 festivities that were going on above them. 
 
 Then the joy, his own private joy, of which the 
 
 z 
 
338 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 rooms in that house had been witnesses — the joy 
 of first love — when he had parted, not unwillingly 
 from her, that in this very room he might, alone, 
 or unheeded by his gloomy master, have more 
 time and freedom to meditate upon her manifold 
 perfections, than he could command in her pre- 
 sence. 
 
 AU this was no matter now, as he said to 
 himself, endeavouring to drive these thoughts 
 of by-gone days away. Had he not once and for 
 all completely planned out his life for the future ? 
 Besides, after the fashion of the young, who, 
 when they have met with some disappointment, 
 are wont to make out to themselves that they are 
 old, if not in years, at any rate in heart and mind, 
 and even to be somewhat proud of this feeling of 
 age, Ivan considered that he had finally concluded 
 with all matters relating to the afiections, and 
 was henceforth to seek in intellectual employ- 
 ment that peace which had" fled from him as an 
 ambitious man and as a lover. 
 
 He did not deceive himself, when he told 
 himself that he no longer loved Azra ; and that, 
 if she were now to consent to marry him, that 
 consent would meet with a most unwilling 
 response from him. In the course of his long 
 and wearisome journey to Siberia, far more 
 wearisome than it had been on the first occasion 
 of his exile, he had reasoned much with himself 
 respecting his love for Azra and of the nature of 
 her character. He began for the first time to 
 comprehend fully that she was a consummate 
 artist, and that no other afiection would dethrone 
 from her mind her supreme love of art. This, in 
 his eyes, was a fatal blot upon the character; and 
 from the moment that he thoroughly recognized 
 its existence, she was for ever lost to him. 
 
THE MARSHAL'S PARTY. 339 
 
 His sentiments, as regards the PrincesSj were 
 ■of a very different, and of a mucli more mixed 
 ■character. Nariskoff's reports of her conversa- 
 tions with him, had not been without some effect 
 upon Ivan ; but an effect very different from that 
 which Nariskoff had aimed to produce. There 
 may be no word in the Russian language which 
 exactly represents the word flirtation; but there 
 is no people, however primitive, or however 
 refined, amongst whom the idea sought to be 
 -conveyed by that word, is unknown. Ivan said 
 very bitterly to himself, after listening to 
 Nariskoff's adroit misrepresentations, " This 
 girl will now, I suppose, be contented, and 
 even pleased, to receive those attentions from 
 me which she can no longer have from her 
 Dukes, her Princes, or her Counts. But no 
 woman shall deceive me twice. We have seen 
 a good many inundations of the Neva; and 
 know now when the ice is dangerous." 
 
 It was in this mood of mind that Ivan had 
 entered that two-storied house, the chief one in 
 Pelem, which was so weU known to him. He 
 had rather feared his first introductioa to the 
 Marshal, considering all that had passed between 
 the houses of Miinnich and Biron ; but the 
 cordial reception which the veteran had given 
 him, at once served to put Ivan at his ease in 
 that company where there were still many per- 
 sons who bore great enmity to the Duke of 
 Courland. These, however, followed the ex- 
 ample of their host ; and Ivan was astonished to 
 find how much he had exaggerated the diffi- 
 culties which he thought he should have to 
 overcome in entering, for the first time, the 
 select company of exiles at Pelem. 
 
 His eves had followed the Field Marshal's 
 ^ z2 
 
340 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 when the Princess Marie was entering the room^ 
 and had anxiously gazed at that countenance^ 
 which, despite his firm resolve^ of aversion, h& 
 had somewhat curiously longed to see. He was 
 not a little shocked when he did see it, for it 
 bore the evident marks of distress and suffering. 
 
 " I do believe," he said to himself, " that she- 
 is a good daughter, though a bad woman in 
 other respects ;" and then he added spitefully,. 
 " besides her exile from the Court must be very 
 bitter to such a lover of grandeur ; and whom 
 does she leave behind? Some fool like me, 
 no doubt ; unless, indeed, he is of princely 
 origin." 
 
 The parts which these two had now to play 
 were entirely reversed from what they had been 
 when they met at the Empress Elizabeth's 
 first ball at St. Petersburg. It was the Princess 
 who was now longing for kind recognition ; it 
 was Ivan who was studying how to make this 
 recognition on his part purely friendly, and 
 nothmg more. With a feeling of its being de- 
 sirable to get over as quickly as possible a dis- 
 agreeable meeting, he lost no time in going to 
 that part of the room where the Princess was, 
 and addressing her. There was no deficiency of 
 subjects to talk about, that were entirely suited 
 to the friendly character which Ivan aimed at 
 adopting. One exile had always much to tell, 
 and much to listen to, when meeting another for 
 the first time. 
 
 Ivan and Marie found that the causes of their 
 exile were exactly similar. The Serbatoffs and 
 Ivan were, alike, victims of the so-called " La- 
 pouschin conspiracy," and were, alike, innocent 
 victims. They did not hesitate to speak in the 
 strongest terms of condemnation to one another 
 
THE MARSHALS PARTY. 341 
 
 •of the fate of tlie beautiful Countess, little 
 imagining that no one in that vast Empire 
 mourned over that fate with such intensity 
 •of anguish and remorse as did the Czarina 
 herself. 
 
 But even in this conversation, the bitterness 
 •of Ivan towards women in general did not fail to 
 find some expression; for he commented upon 
 the bad use the Countess had made of her 
 beauty, and her talents, and the infamous use 
 which the jealous Empress had made of her 
 power, when her rival in beauty and in talent 
 fell under it. 
 
 " We were all," said Ivan, " equally foolish not 
 to foresee that the baseness of these two women 
 "Would be our ruin, if we did not keep aloof from 
 both of them." 
 
 This was the final remark which Ivan made 
 upon the subject, as he withdrew from the 
 Princess, and went to pay his respects to the 
 Countess Miinnich, to whom he had not, hitherto, 
 heen presented. 
 
 It was in accordance with the pitying nature 
 ■of women, that the Princess Marie was much 
 struck and saddened by the change in Ivan's 
 appearance. The extent of the change was 
 impressed upon her when she compared the 
 present Ivan with the Ivan of their former exile, 
 and she did not love him the less, but all the 
 more, for the signs of sorrow and suffering 
 which were now marked upon his countenance — 
 some of which sorrow and suffering she could not 
 help attributing to her own manceuvres, which 
 had turned out so unsuccessfully. 
 
 A party, at which the Field Marshal was the 
 host, could never be dull. There was animated 
 conversation among the elder guests in which 
 
342 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Ivan was allowed to join. There were games at 
 cards of wMch. the Russians in that day were 
 exceedingly fond — especially of those games,, 
 such as the Grande PaUence, in which the future 
 fortunes of the players were supposed to be in- 
 dicated. 
 
 Later on in the evening, the gay Marshal 
 proposed a dance, and followed up his proposal 
 by soliciting the Princess Marie to be his- 
 partner. The gaiety of Munnich was infectious. 
 Had any traveller, uninformed as to the use to 
 which the town of Pelem had been mainly put by 
 Russian statesmen, entered that room, on his 
 journey through that town, he might have been 
 struck by the odd contrast between the sordid 
 furniture of the apartment and the high-sounding 
 names of its occupants. But little would he 
 have imagined that it was a company of exiles 
 whom he was surveying, each one of whom had a 
 very sad story to teU. 
 
 Ivan was the kind of man to do everything 
 well that he condescended to do ; and he danced 
 admirably. Somehow or other his conclusion 
 that he was already a very aged person did not 
 prevent his entering very heartily into the 
 mirthful spirit of that evening. Nariskoff, who- 
 had contrived to get an invitation to this party, 
 rather surprised some one who knew his morbid 
 humour and wished to extract from him some 
 spiteful comment upon the merry scene, by re- 
 plying to this man's remarks upon the folly of it 
 in these words. 
 
 " I don't see the especial folly. One thing is 
 not more foolish than another in human life ; and 
 if you come to that — to measuring the folly of 
 any particular transaction, I should rather say 
 that dancing was about the least foolish thing 
 
THE PRINCESS'S NATURE. 343 
 
 that human beings had ever invented. You 
 know it must be very deHghtful to whirl about, 
 or to be whirled about by, anybody that one 
 liked very much. You and I are long past all that 
 sort of thing." 
 
 Now it must not be supposed that this eulo- 
 gium of dancing, however true, represented 
 NariskoflF^s real opinion; but he was in an 
 especially bad temper, and would not have 
 agreed with anything that anybody said on this 
 occasion. He had been watching for some good 
 result of the scheme he had laboured at so much. 
 He had stealthily approached Ivan and the 
 Princess, while they were talking to one another, 
 and had overheard enough of the conversation to 
 ascertain that, for the moment at any rate, his 
 scheme had failed. Observing Ivan studiously 
 for the remainder of the evening, he saw that his 
 friend never approached the Princess, and indeed 
 that she was almost the only woman in the room, 
 young or old, whom Ivan did not ask to dance. 
 
 The revels ended; and the Priuoess was ac- 
 companied to her father^s house (for the Prince 
 had not come with her) by some of those young 
 men who had had the honour of dancing with 
 her. 
 
 When alone in her chamber she exclaimed 
 " He is lost to me for ever — for ever ! Holy 
 Father" (turning to the lighted picture in the 
 corner of the room), " he is lost to me for ever." 
 
 The Princess was one of those rare women 
 whose tears are very distant — who weep inwardly 
 if they weep at all. Ivan had, in former days, 
 been much struck, and somewhat grieved, at this 
 apparent hardness. It was a very unusual con- 
 dition at that period and in that country, when 
 even men shed tears with alarming facility. But 
 
344 /F^iV DE BIRON. 
 
 Marie Andreevna had almost arrived at that 
 state which is now the virile state in the most 
 civilized nations, and which orJy allows tears to 
 arise, artistically if we may say so — upon the 
 touching representation of tearful subjects; but 
 which ignores their existence in reference to 
 private and personal sorrows. 
 
 When disasters had occurred at that wretched 
 lown, and when other women were weeping and 
 wailing, the Princess had been very sympathizing, 
 very helpful, but never tearful. Had Ivan seen 
 her now, he would have been astounded at her 
 agony of tears, and still more, perhaps, at the 
 fond words which every now and then broke from 
 her, and were associated with his own name. 
 
 The consolations which philosophy affords 
 are but cold comfort to offer to those who are 
 suffering from unrequited love. But if such 
 persons could then think steadily and severely, 
 they might see what a large thing it is to demand 
 that their love should be responded to. The 
 same course of thought would apply to the demand, 
 often silently though ardently made, for liking, for 
 friendship, or for the full acknowledgment of the 
 claims of relationship ; and, in these minor cases, 
 the voice of reason might sometimes, perhaps, 
 get a hearing. Persons desiring this love, this 
 liking, or this friendship, might possibly bethink 
 themselves that what they secretly demand, it is 
 absolutely impossible for others to give. Why 
 even their very virtues and their merits may 
 stand in the way of fulfilment of their wishes ! 
 They may be very loveable or likeable ; but it is 
 the influence which that loveableness or likeable- 
 ness of theirs has over another person by reason 
 of his, or her, peculiar susceptibility to it, that is 
 
THE PRINCESS'S SORROW. 345 
 
 in question. And. how large a thing it is to 
 expect that the two susceptibilities should be 
 equivalent ; and in short, that if it chanced that I 
 love you, it would also be likely to happen that 
 you should love me. 
 
 These reflections do not exactly apply to the 
 feelings of the Princess Marie at this period, for 
 she had been loved by Ivan, and had, therefore, 
 at one time satisfied his ideal of what was love- 
 able in woman. But her subsequent conduct 
 had introduced a new element which was now 
 fatal to her renewed desire to be loved ; and so 
 she must be left to mourn and wail over the loss 
 of that love which she had, however nobly and 
 with, whatever self-sacrifice, thrust from her. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTEK Vn. 
 
 NAEISKOPf's FEAES A RUSSIAN CEEEMONT ^NAEIS- 
 
 koff's FEAES EEALIZED. 
 
 The junior clerk who, meaning moat 
 kindly to Ivan, liad assigned Pelem as Ms place 
 of exile, could have known but little of Siberian 
 geography. 
 
 In speaking of Siberia, one is apt to forget 
 its immense extent, and, consequently, the great 
 diversity which exists in climate and natural 
 scenery in different parts of that vast Empire, 
 for an Empire it is in itself. There are spots 
 of almost unrivalled beauty and grandeur in 
 Siberia; but Pelem was not one of these. It 
 is generally supposed by those who have studied 
 the geography of Siberia, that Pelem was chosen 
 as a place of exile for great political delinquents, 
 on account of its super-eminent disadvantages 
 of climate and situation. For the most part 
 it was approached through vast woods and 
 extensive marshes ; and a more dreary and for- 
 bidding landscape than that which met the 
 
NARISKOFF'S FEARS. 347 
 
 Exile's eyes as lie neared the place of his 
 destiaation, when that place was Pelem, cannot 
 well be imagined. 
 
 The town itself is situated on the river Tavda, 
 an affluent of the river Tobol, from which the 
 district of Tobolsk takes its name. At a little 
 more than half a mile above the town, the river 
 Pelem also falls into the Tobol } and at a much 
 further distance lies the Lake of Pelem. 
 
 The winter which preceded that spring when 
 the new batch of exiles (of whom Ivan was one) 
 arrived at Pelem, had been a very severe one 
 Quicksilver had frozen to such a degree of hard- 
 ness that ingenious persons had amused them- 
 selves by carving little images out of that metal, 
 ordinarily so fluent. The spring, which followed 
 this winter, had come with unusual suddenness 
 and warmth. The experienced inhabitants of the 
 town were in mortal fear of inundation; but 
 their apprehensions did not at first reach the 
 higher classes (the exiles) ; or, if so, were dis- 
 regarded by them. Why, indeed, should they 
 fret themselves about a disaster which, if it 
 did come, they could in nowise prevent, or even 
 guard against ? 
 
 Nariskoff, a timid man, and one who consorted 
 with all ranks of people, was greatly alarmed at 
 what he heard of the results of former inundations, 
 and of the threatening of a greater inundation 
 than ever at the present moment, for so the 
 fears of the peasantry were expressed. Putting 
 aside all his plans for bringing Ivan and the Prin- 
 cess into more favourable relations with each 
 other, Nariskoff now talked of nothing else to Ivan 
 but the prospect of their being overwhelmed by 
 some fatal inundation. Ivan listened with great, 
 indifference to these fears of Nariskoff's, though 
 
348 / VAN DE BIRON. 
 
 lie coulS not but take some teed of tiie/acts wliicli 
 Nariskoff, day by day, brought to his notice — 
 such as the rise in inches of the three rivers, and 
 of a slight overflow which had already taken 
 place, according to the report of the peasantry, 
 of the lake of Pelem. This Lake had then a 
 circumference of about fifty-six English miles. 
 
 Nariskoff, finding that Ivan turned a deaf 
 ear to all his fears and forebodings, made them 
 known to the Field Marshal. That great 
 engineer, however, did not see his way to do 
 anything which should be a real protection to the 
 town, especially considering the shortness of 
 time that remained for action, if an inundation 
 were to take place on account of the rapid and 
 fierce advent of the spring. 
 
 The thoughts of the other inhabitants, even of 
 the frightened peasantry themselves, were much 
 diverted from alarm by the prospect of a coming 
 ceremonial of the Greek Church, which was of 
 the greatest interest to them. The Patron Saint 
 of Turin sk was to pay a visit to the Patron Saint 
 of Pelem. 
 
 The form of the ceremony was as follows. 
 The patron Saint of Turinsk was to be con- 
 ducted by priests and white-robed maidens on 
 the road to Pelem. The Saint of that town was 
 to be borne in like manner to meet its brother 
 Saint ; was to receive it with due ceremony; and 
 then to accompany it to its own church. The 
 stranger Saint was there to be honoured with 
 certain prayers and hymns ; and was afterwards 
 to be escorted by the Saint of Pelem and the 
 inhabitants of the town for a certain distance on 
 its road home. This final part of the ceremony 
 was to take place the same evening. 
 
 Much and diverse preparation was made by 
 
■ A RUSSIAN CEREMONY. 349 
 
 both towns for this coming ceremonial. Eobes 
 had to be prepared ; hymns had to be practised y 
 pnd whatever, in that dismal district, of flower 
 and foliage could be got to grace the festival, was 
 to be eagerly sought for.' 
 
 Meanwhile, not less threatening, though less 
 heeded, were the accounts which Nariskofi" heard 
 from the peasantry, and reported to all those 
 who would listen to him, showing the proxi- 
 mity of danger from the rapid rising of the 
 rivers. 
 
 Ivan had been solicited to take a part in the 
 forthcoming festive proceedings; but he had 
 resolutely kept aloof from them. His superior 
 enlightenment, or what he supposed to be such, 
 made him despise this childish ceremony, as he 
 called it, of the meeting of the Patron Saints. 
 Besides, if he were to take any part in it, this 
 might bring him more in contact with the Prin- 
 cess Marie ; and he had absolutely determined to 
 avoid any companionship with her. She, though 
 with a heavy heart, was obliged to give her 
 services. Her superior knowledge of music 
 naturally conferred upon her the place of leader 
 in the choir of maidens, who were to take so 
 large a part in the ceremony. And, moreover, 
 being a duteous daughter of her Church, she 
 did not perceive any childishness, or irreverence, 
 in this festival. 
 
 The eventful day dawned. It was a day of 
 unusual heat for that season; but this, though an 
 additional danger, was disregarded. That it 
 was fine weather at that moment, was a fact 
 which delighted all the inhabitants of Pelem, 
 whatever mischief might thereupon accrue. 
 
 Very early in the morning, even before day- 
 light, they had marched out with their Saint, 
 
35° IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 and had arrived at the spot where a long, nar- 
 row, wooden bridge spanned the river Tavda. 
 At this bridge, according to the usage of former 
 years, the Pelemites waited for the arrival of the 
 stranger Saint from Turinsk. On the present 
 occasion it did not make its welcome presence 
 visible untU many hours after the accustomed 
 time of meeting. 
 
 During the interval of waiting, the men of 
 Pelem beguiled the time, partly by singing 
 hymns, partly by uttering very severe objurga-. 
 tions on the dilatory nature of the men of 
 Turinsk. 
 
 One old man told his fellow-citizens, that a 
 similar delay had occurred forty years ago, long 
 before most of them had been born, and that he 
 remembered it because it preceded by three days 
 the great inundation which had swept away the 
 palisading and one-third of the town of Pelem. 
 For the moment this unpleasant reminiscence 
 awoke the fears of the crowd; but these were 
 soon forgotten when the stranger Saint, accom- 
 panied by a larger number than usual of the 
 young men and maidens of Turinsk, was first 
 visible in the distance. 
 
 When, however, those of Turinsk had joined 
 their fellow-worshippers of Pelem, sad were 
 the stories they had to tell of the difficulties 
 and dangers they had undergone. Bridges had 
 been carried away; small rivulets were now 
 rivers; and morasses were lakes. They would 
 never have reached the spot, if they had not 
 made detours, which they estimated, perhaps 
 with some exaggeration, as having lengthened 
 out the distance more than fourteen mUes. 
 
 The men of Pelem were glad to tell them that 
 there was no extraordinary difficulty to be met 
 
A RUSSIAN CEREMONY. 351 
 
 with between the wooden bridge and the town of 
 Pelem. 
 
 The intensity of religious feeling which this 
 ceremony produced, sufficed to luU aU fears, and 
 the procession moved gladly on towards the 
 town. 
 
 The elder personages, who had remained in 
 the town, such as Marshal Munnich, his Count- 
 ess, and Prince Serbatoff, together with those 
 whom sickness had prevented from attending the 
 ceremony, had not been without great anxiety 
 during these hours of suspense which preceded the 
 return of their own people, and the advent of 
 the Saints into the town. 
 
 Nariskoflf, as may be imagined, had not taken 
 any part in this religious ceremonial. He had 
 occupied himself in going from house to house of 
 those persons who had been obliged to remain, 
 adding to their alarm by his declaration that 
 something dreadful must have occurred : that, 
 for his part, he was sure that the Lake of Pelem 
 had broken all bounds, and had overwhelmed 
 priests, and Saints, and their foolish worshippers. 
 The sneers and scoffs of the irreverent Nariskoff 
 at the folly of the ceremonial, would have 
 brought down condign punishment upon his 
 head, if he had addressed them to any per- 
 sons but the sickly, the aged, and the judi- 
 cious. 
 
 Throughout the greater part of the day he was 
 in and out of Ivan's log-hut, fulminating dia- 
 tribes against all religious services, and those of 
 the Greek Church in particular, and assuring 
 Ivan, that now one of his troubles would be well 
 over, for that he would never more see anything 
 of that hard-hearted young lady, the Princess 
 Marie Andreevna. 
 
352 JVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Ivan had not large faith in anything that 
 Nariskoff could say; but still he was so much 
 moved by it, and, to say the truth, so much 
 plagued by Nariskoff's constant interruptions, 
 that he resolved to go out, and see whether any- 
 thing had happened. 
 
 He asked Nariskoff to accompany him; but 
 that prudent personage entirely declined to do 
 so, saying that he must stay in the town to 
 comfort poor Prince SerbatofF, and that bedrid- 
 den Polish lady, Tatiana Michaelovna Selinofsky, 
 both of those "exceedingly foolish persons" 
 having, as he said, allowed their only daughters 
 to take a principal part in this idiotic business. 
 If he had been blessed, or cursed, with a 
 daughter, (he reaUy should not like to pledge 
 himself as to whether children were more of a 
 blessing or a curse) he should at least have been 
 wise enough, or paternal enough, to have kept 
 the girl at home to-day. 
 
 Ivan made no reply, but left his hut, and went 
 quickly out of the town. He soon met the pro- 
 cession coming back in a high state of jubilation;, 
 and, on doing so, almost regretted that he had 
 been induced by Nariskoff's timidity to quit his 
 studies. He was not, however, unobservant of 
 certain signs which led him to beheve that 
 there was stiU some danger to be apprehended. 
 Amongst other thiags, he noticed that in certain 
 spots which, hitherto, though bordering upon 
 morasses, had always afforded a sure footing,, 
 there were gurgling noises and a slight bubbling 
 up of water, such as may often be seen ia the 
 springs which are the origin of great rivers — and 
 that the footing was no longer sure. 
 
 Ivan joined the procession, and lent his voice 
 in the singing of the hymns. All was now glad- 
 
A RUSSIAN CEREMONY. 35$ 
 
 ness and merriment. The men of Turinsk 
 seemed to have forgotten their previous labom-s 
 and di£B.culties : the men of Pelem had forgotten 
 their vexation and their anger at the delay which 
 had occurred. 
 
 Ivan drew near to the Princess Marie, and 
 spoke anxiously to her of the signs of danger he 
 had noticed, at the same time suggesting that it 
 might not be prudent on her part to accompany 
 the stranger Saint on its return home. 
 
 The Princess Marie had observed that he had 
 addressed several persons before he approached 
 her ; and, from his gestures she conjectured, and 
 rightly, that he had been making similar sugges- 
 tions to them. Moreover, he had spoken coldly ; 
 had shown no interest on his own account ; had 
 chiefly alluded to any anxiety she might cause 
 her father; and, what was worse, had even 
 spoken contemptuously, though not exactly in 
 Nariskoff's language, of the siUiness of the whole 
 proceeding. She, therefore, replied coldly, 
 merely saying that she should not desert her 
 post, and indeed that it was impossible for her to 
 do so, seeing that she was the leader of the 
 choir of their own maidens. He made no further 
 attempt to dissuade her; and did not long 
 remain by her side. 
 
 There was great feasting ia Pelem that day ; 
 and never was more abundant honour shown to 
 the stranger Saint of Turinsk. 
 
 Then the procession was formed for the return ; 
 and it left the town with more joyous sounds of 
 religious mirthfulness than had ever been known 
 on any previous occasion. Whatever fear of 
 danger or of difficulty sui^ved in the breasts of 
 the joyful throng, only served to give force to, 
 and enhance, the fervour of their devotion. 
 
 2a 
 
354 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Ivan did not make one of this procession ; but 
 he looked long and wistfully after it, as it left the 
 town ; and there was a vague and indefinable 
 sensation of fear at his heart, which he could not 
 quite dispel. He returned to his books j but, 
 somehow or other, he found that he could not 
 command his attention ; and he began to think, 
 with almost a contempt for himself, that he 
 wished Nariskoff would come and worry him 
 again, and urge him to go out. " Otherwise I 
 shall not go," he said, " for these are mere foolish 
 fancies ; bnt that poor Prince would indeed be a 
 miserable creature if anything were to happen to 
 her." 
 
 Half an hour had not passed before Nariskoflf 
 did make his appearance in Ivan's hut ; and this 
 time his alarm was pitiful to behold. 
 
 It is a curious fact, but it is a fact, that we 
 often find that those persons whose lives seem 
 to have least in them that should be worth pre- 
 serving, appear to have most care for living on. 
 
 Nariskoff did not urge Ivan to go out in search 
 of the procession; but suggested that they should 
 both pay a visit to the Marshal, and stay in his 
 upper room if anything should happen. He, 
 Nariskoff, had heard, in the last half-hour, strange 
 noises. " Come out now, De Biron, and see if 
 you do not hear them." 
 
 Ivan did come, and walked with Nariskoff to 
 that end of the town opposite to the one which 
 led to the wood. He, too, thought that he heard 
 strange noises, not exactly like the murmur of 
 winds, or distant thunder, or like any sound that 
 had hitherto been known to him. Without say- 
 ing another word, the two companions separated. 
 
 Nariskoff went to the Marshal's house to pay a 
 visit which he resolved should be a long one, 
 
NAJilSKOFrS FEAHS REALIZED. 355 
 
 while Ivan started oflF, at a swift pace, on the 
 road which the procession had taken. As he did 
 so, the alarming sounds became more defined. 
 He could hardly doubt that danger was comingj 
 and made great speed to meet it. In a moment, 
 as it were, though only for a moment, the old 
 love returned upon him with all its force — ^indeed 
 with a deeper feeling than ever — as he thought 
 of the imminent danger of her who was once so 
 dear to him. He had no doubt now of what was 
 about to happen. 
 
 And, indeed, it had begun to happen. The 
 swollen river and the full-to-overflowing lake 
 had, together, at the same moment, burst their 
 bounds ; and about six miles off had formed 
 volumes of water, which were descending upon 
 the town. Awful as the danger was, it was not 
 so great as it would have been in any country 
 that did not offer so vast a plain as that sur- 
 rounding Pelem did, for the waters to flow over. 
 Moreover, as it was afterwards ascertained, there 
 were two separate floods ; and the weaker wave 
 had come first. 
 
 Ivan rushed forward at his utmost speed. At 
 length he came in sight of the procession hurry- 
 ing back. The Saint of Pelem was still held 
 aloft by the devoted acolytes ; and close around 
 it, some order was still maintained. But, in 
 front, the terror-stricken crowd, pursued by the 
 waters, were struggling onwards iu complete 
 disorder. Ivan rendered what assistance he 
 could to some of the weaker ones, who were the 
 foremost of the stragglers ; but soon made his 
 way to the denser part of the multitude, amongst 
 whom was the Princess Marie, stiU maintaining 
 her place, and still, though few voices joined with 
 hers, singing a hymn of joy and deliverance which 
 
 2a2 
 
356 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 sounded strangely in that scene of horror. Th6 
 danger was not yet by any means at its utter- 
 most ; but, as it increased, men, women and 
 chlidren, deserting all order, rushed madly 
 on. 
 
 In ten minutes the full flood had come with all 
 its force upon them ; and it was now that the 
 weaker part of the crowd had to battle for dear 
 life. Ivan was by Marie's side. He had caught 
 up a child of about three years old, and bore it in 
 his arms. He did not speak a word to the 
 Princess, nor she to him; but he offered his 
 hand, which she grasped j and they fled on 
 together. Though the flood which surrounded 
 them was still shallow, spreading as it did over 
 that immense plain, there were spots where the 
 waters of the flood, falling upon some portion 
 of morass, were many feet in depth. Into one 
 of these the Princess eventually fell; and her 
 fall was nearly being disastrous to Ivan and th& 
 child he earned with him. He, however, kept 
 his footing and succeeded in extricating her. 
 He then bade her take the child in her arms, 
 There was a certain sternness, at the moment, 
 in his tone ; and she at once obeyed him. He 
 then lifted her up in his arms, and carried her 
 on towards the town. Once they were very near 
 destruction, for Ivan himself fell, but fortunately 
 it was not in a morass; and, while falling, he 
 retained hold of the Princess, and even kept her 
 above the water. At length, in a state of great 
 exhaustion he reached the town, and bore his 
 burden in safety to her father's house. During 
 their perilous progress through the waters, 
 neither the Princess nor Ivan had spoken. 
 
 The gratitude of the Prince found full vent in 
 words; but words seem to have been denied 
 
NAJilSKOFF'S FEARS REALIZED. 357 
 
 to tlie Princess, At last, however, she faintly and 
 hesitatingly thanked Ivan j and lie went away to 
 see if he could find the parents of the child, to 
 restore it to them. 
 
 The town of Pelem was not overwhelmed by 
 this inundation, nor was there much loss of life, 
 except amongst the children. The state, how- 
 ever, of those people, the majority of the town,^ 
 who dwelt in log-huts, was very deplorable. 
 The Prince could do no less (and he did it 
 gratefully and gladly) than invite Ivan to share 
 their home; but to the astonishment of the 
 Prince, though not to that of his daughter, this 
 ■kindly offer was distinctly declined. 
 
 In fact, and certainly in fiction, such an 
 adventure as that which has just been recorded, 
 generally serves to bring even estranged lovers 
 together again in harmony, and at least to 
 remove some part of the estrangement ; but it 
 did not do so with Ivan and the Princess Marie. 
 After the flood had abated, and the town had 
 resumed its customary aspect, there was no 
 change to be noticed in the relation between 
 these two, unless, indeed, it might, have been 
 seen that the Princess Marie grew embarrassed, 
 and shrank timidly back if she could do so 
 without observation, whenever, by accident, 
 Ivan approached her. This mode of conduct 
 was very unusual in the Princess, and veiy 
 repugnant to her resolute and still somewhat 
 haughty nature. But the feeling which induced 
 such conduct was that of one who has a debt of 
 gratitude to pay and cannot pay it ; who knows, 
 moreover, that an attempt to pay it, would only 
 be met by a haughty disavowal on the part of 
 the benefactor of any payment of the kind being 
 necessary. 
 
358 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Notwithstanding this silence, for hardly a 
 word ever passed between Ivan and the Princess, 
 each could not help thinking a great deal of the 
 other, and still more did each think anxiously of 
 his or her own feeling towards that other. The 
 Princess strove to think down her love : Ivan, to 
 prevent his from rising again into fnU life to 
 torment him. But self-examination of this kind 
 does not tend to peace-; and, as one who listens 
 intently at night, wiU hear noises, and the more 
 abundantly, the more he dreads to hear them, so 
 the Princess and Ivan found that their much 
 inquiry, as regards the feelings of their own 
 hearts, did not allay alarm by reassuring them of 
 stillness. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 AZEA APPEARS TN A NEW OPERA — THE EMPRESS 
 
 AND THE ACTRESS ^AZRA ASKS FOB AN ADDIENCB 
 
 THE EMPRESS BECEITES HER ON THE FOLLOW- 
 ING DAT. 
 
 This narrative includes many migrations 
 of personSj and many changes of scene. Though 
 Pelem and St. Petersburg are very widely apart, 
 they were yet, in those days, very intimately 
 connected ; and, as it has been seen, any signal 
 event at the capital resulted in consequences at 
 Pelem of the most joyful or the saddest kind. 
 
 With most persons it is some distant event, 
 some event over which they have had no control, 
 that has the greatest influence over their fortunes. 
 It is as if each life were represented by a ray of 
 light j and where these rays intersect, especially 
 if they are rays of strength, there is formed a 
 focus of consuming power, which has abiding 
 iafluence for good, or evil, on the lives -in 
 question. 
 
 When mention was last made of Azra, she had 
 
362 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 returned to rehearsal after a painful interview 
 with Ivan; had seen him taken away as a 
 prisoner ; and, after a few days' interval, had 
 appeared on the stage in the opera in which she 
 had performed the principal part at Paris. 
 
 For some 'reason or otherj this opera did not 
 suit the Russian taste ; and, after running a short 
 time, was set aside in favour of an old Eussian 
 play, adapted to music and descriptive of a by- 
 gone period in Eussian history. It was a very 
 poor thing when compared with the opera which 
 Azra had brought from Paris ; but there was, at 
 that time, in Russia, a great dislike for, and 
 jealousy of, any foreigner; and this dislike and 
 jealousy extended to foreign things, as well as 
 persons. 
 
 Azra, who had learnt in Paris that most 
 expressive of gestures, the shrugging of the 
 shoulders, made no ftirther objection to the 
 manager's proposal to bring this Russian play 
 upon the stage, than what might have been 
 indicated by this gesture. Then, like a true 
 artist, who disdains to be suppressed by any 
 inferiority in the work to be done, Azra threw all 
 her force and energy into the preparation for her 
 new part. 
 
 The Czarina had much better taste than most 
 of those, even of the highest rank and best 
 education, whom she governed. She would, 
 probably, liave much preferred to listen to the 
 Parisian opera. Finding,, howeverj from the 
 talk at Court, that this opera was not particu- 
 larly acceptable to a Russian audience, the 
 politic Empress did not encourage the continued 
 performance of it by her Imperial presence. 
 When the native opera, if so it may be called, 
 though the music was chiefly selected from 
 
AZRA APPEARS IN A NEW OPERA. 365 
 
 Eameau's works, was brought upon the stage, 
 and was pronounced to be successfal, the 
 Empress went in state to hear it. 
 
 Azra was one of those persons who always try- 
 to do their best ; and if she had had to play in a 
 bam before rude boors, she would not have 
 neglected to put forth her utmost powers. 
 Encouragement, no doubt, had the same sympa- 
 thetic effect upon her that it almost always has 
 upon those, whether orators, musicians, or 
 singers, who have to present themselves, as it 
 were, to the public. This, in her case as in that 
 of most artists, is not an effect of gratified vanity, 
 but a pure result of appreciative sympathy. 
 How can one know when one is pleasing others, 
 unless they are good enough to tell one so ? and 
 no man, or woman, knows what he, or she, can 
 do in any department of life, until they have 
 received the immense impulse which appreciation 
 gives to all the sons and daughters of mankind. 
 
 The Czarina perceived at once how pleasing to 
 her subjects this opera must be ; and, bound by 
 no small notions of Imperial etiquette, was as 
 hearty in her applause as any one of the meanest 
 of her subjects in the gallery. 
 
 The part which Aaira had to perform in this 
 opera, was that of a Queen; and the good-na- 
 tured Elizabeth more than once remarked to her 
 favourite Mavra Schepelof, loudly enough to be 
 heard by the surrounding courtiers, that the 
 little woman was quite a Queen, and that She 
 (Elizabeth) would do well to take some lessons 
 from her, in order to perform her own part more 
 effectively. 
 
 At the end of the fourth act, the Empress sent 
 for the actress. 
 
 The Eussian Court, from the days of Peter the 
 
364 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Great to the present time, has ever been most 
 munificent in its recognition of artistic talent. 
 The Czarina had chosen a splendid present for 
 the Signora Hurtaldi; and it would have been 
 given, if the performance had been only of a 
 mediocre character ; but, on this occasion, it was 
 felt both by the Sovereign and by her suite that 
 the gift, however splendid, was amply deserved. 
 
 It is rarely allowed to monarchs to blame; 
 and sometimes they must, almost perforce, (un- 
 less they are very sincere persons,) praise some- 
 what insincerely. It must, therefore, be a pecu- 
 liar pleasure to them when a hearty sense of 
 approval unites with policy, and when they can 
 praise, not merely representatively and officially, 
 but also individually and personally. Elizabeth 
 really looked forward with pleasure to the ap- 
 proach of the mimic sovereign. The reception 
 was in the ante-chamber to the Imperial box. 
 Azra entered, conducted by the manager ; and, 
 kneeling before the Empress, kissed her hand. 
 
 " Rise, my sister," said Elizabeth, " it ill be- 
 comes so great a Queen to kneel to any other 
 mionarch." 
 
 So saying, she stooped down a little, for she 
 was much taller than Azra, and kissed her on 
 the cheek. 
 
 "We wished to tell you, sister mine, how 
 pleased We have been with your performance. 
 We have been saying that We ourselves might 
 have learnt something from your dignity, for the 
 Imperial acting on Our own stage. We hope 
 that Our good sister will deign to accept this 
 slight token of sisterly regard." 
 
 The Empress then placed in Azra's hands a 
 bracelet of great value. It was composed of 
 'diamonds and turquoises (turquoises were then 
 
THE EMPRESS AND THE ACTRESS. 365. 
 
 very rare), whicli encircled a portrait of the 
 Empress herself. 
 
 Azra took it, and then said : — " The portrait^ 
 madam, will ever be most dear to me ; and the 
 jewels are most beautiful ; but oh, if I might ask 
 for something more prebious to me than all th& 
 jewels in the world." 
 
 Elizabeth's face darkened a little. She was 
 not accustomed to find her gifts so coldly re- 
 ceived. 
 
 The quick-sighted gypsy did not fail to 
 notice the stem expression which came over 
 the Empress's countenance. Azra's presence of 
 mind was lost for the moment : she hung her 
 head, and looked like the shy young girl that 
 she had shown herself to be when she first 
 entered the SerbatofF Palace to plead for Ivan 
 with the Princess Marie. 
 
 The Empress immediately noticed the change. 
 She was mollified by it, and smiled. She may 
 have thought to herself how soon the mimic 
 sovereign pales before the real one. And then 
 she said : — " Well, chUd, what is it that you 
 want ? We thought jewels were not unwelcome 
 to any of our sex. Men, at least, are pleased to 
 say so ; and whatever they say, signora, must 
 approach a wisdom that our lower nature cannot 
 attain to. Is it not so, my Lords ?" 
 
 Azra, encouraged by the playful words of the 
 Czarina, found boldness enough to say. "If I 
 might see Your Majesty alone, I would venture- 
 to make my humble request." 
 
 " You shall have your wish, my child. My 
 Lord Chamberlaia, see that the Signora Hurtaldi 
 has an audience of us to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 After this, Azra was conducted from the ante- 
 chamber by the manager ; and, in a few minutes, 
 appeared again upon the stage. 
 
366 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Her perfomiaiicej in tlie fifth act/ was very- 
 fitful. Sometimes she was as queenly as ever, 
 and her voice was as rich, full, and true as 
 ever : at other times she was singularly embar- 
 rassed and ineffective. Those who were con- 
 noisseurs in actiag, remarked that the Signora 
 must be ill, but still what ,a great actress she 
 was ; and how wonderfully she bore up against 
 this sudden attack of -illiiess. 
 
 The Empress was very thoughtful during this 
 fifth act. The rapid changes in Azra's mode of 
 acting were not lost upon her. " I wonder/^ she 
 said to her favourite, "what her stage majesty 
 wants : what a refined creature she is ! Avarice, 
 love, vanity, — ^these are the three levers that 
 move womankind. Aye, and mankind too, my 
 Mavra. The first does not move her : the third 
 may do so, for in this theatrical world there are 
 as many jealousies and vanities, I believe, as 
 at a Court; and she may have some grievance 
 against the manager." 
 
 Meanwhile, as the acting went on, the Em- 
 press suddenly said. " No, Mavra, it is not 
 vanity : the embarrassment is too great for that. 
 There only remains 'love,' and what can I do 
 for that ? We, ourselves cannot make people 
 love us who foolishly decline to do so, (here 
 the Empress whispered something to her fa- 
 vourite), and, as for comforting all the distressed 
 damsels of our Empire, that would indeed be a 
 task beyond Imperial, perhaps beyond angelic, 
 power ! " 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 THE EMPEESS S CONJECTUEES AS TO THE IDENTITY OJ? 
 AZEA — AZBA's audience. 
 
 GrEBAT sovereigns are apt to have long 
 memories, and are peculiarly vexed if their 
 memory fails them on any point. It seemed 
 strange to herself, but the Empress Elizabeth, 
 as she returned to the Winter Palace, could not 
 help thinking over the events of the evening's 
 perfoiTnance at the opera, and when she was 
 under the hands of her tire-women, she suddenly 
 exclaimed. "I see it all: what a beclouded 
 being I have been, Mavra ! (The favourite was 
 still with her Eoyal mistress.) . That is the gypsy 
 girl : the sister — ^the so-called sister — of that 
 learned traitor, Ivan de Biron. Her jewels and 
 her queenly presence, for the girl has something 
 regal about her, deceived me for the moment ; 
 but, when she held the bracelet in her hand, and 
 looked anything but like a queen, it was the 
 same girl who claimed that unfaithful Ivan as 
 her brother — unfaithful to her, I doubt not, as to 
 
368 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 me his soYereign. All ! They are a* bad set 
 these men : not worthy of us, Mavra, fickle as 
 the west wind." 
 
 The favourite thought to herself, but did not 
 utter the thought, that if she might judge from 
 her imperial mistress's conduct, fickleness was 
 not entirely confined to men; but she merely 
 replied: — "Your majesty is doubtless right, it 
 must be the same person. Tour majesty never 
 forgets a face." 
 
 "It is so, Mavraj I am certain of it — and 
 she will come to intercede for him : his infidelity 
 only another incentive to her faithfulness. How 
 weak we are ! " 
 
 It may seem surprising _^ that the Empress had 
 not before known, what had hitherto been well 
 known to all the upper classes of St. Petersburg 
 — that Azra and the Signora Hurtaldi were one 
 and the same person, and that Ivan had been her 
 devoted admirer. Eoyal and Imperial personages, 
 however, being in the habit of leading the conver- 
 sation, and of eliciting rather than receiving 
 information, it did. so happen that the Czarina 
 had been almost the only person, of any note in 
 St. Petersburg, who was not thoroughly cognizant 
 of these facts. 
 
 On the following afternoon the Empress was 
 perfectly prepared to receive Azra; and it was 
 with a heavy heart that the good-natured lady 
 was so prepared. " He has deceived her : he has 
 deceived me. These learned men are a shade 
 worse even than the others. I suppose they get 
 it from their books. Yet, in those books, the 
 wretches, most times, make themselves out to be 
 true-hearted." 
 
 Azra was announced j and the Empress received 
 her most cordially. 
 
AZjRA'S a UDIENCE. 369 
 
 Elizabeth had but little time to spare for 
 interviews of this kind. Moreover, she looked 
 forward to a rather painful scene ; and, on that 
 account alone, was anxious to get the interview 
 over as quickly as possible. She at once com- 
 menced the conversation in her usual clear, 
 decided, resonant voice. 
 
 " I know it all : I know what you have come 
 for. The Signora Hurtaldi is no other than 
 Azra the gypsy." 
 
 "Tes: Madam." 
 
 "And Azra the gypsy once said that she was 
 the sister of Ivan de Biron ?" 
 
 "Yes: Madam." 
 
 "And the Signora Hurtaldi is of the same 
 mind as Azra the gypsy, and loves Ivan de 
 Biron : for the folly of us women is infinite." 
 
 " Yes, and no ; Madam." Azra timidly 
 replied. 
 
 "And Ivan de Biron is as false to Azra as 
 he has been to his Sovereign." 
 
 " No ; Madam, no ! Ivan de Biron is the 
 truest of the true ! I have been with him in 
 sickness and in health; in poverty and in riches; 
 but he never spoke of Your Majesty, even when 
 he was resolved to fight for the Duchess Regent, 
 otherwise than with the greatest respect. Ivan 
 is incapable of ingratitude; and, after Your 
 Majesty had taken him into your service, would 
 have died rather than betray his Imperial 
 Mistress. I would answer with my Hfe for 
 Ivan. They deceive you. Madam." 
 
 The Empress smiled. " Large as your know- 
 ledge is of "Courts, my royal sister, I do not 
 admit that you are conversant with aU the state 
 affairs of Our Empire." 
 
 " Ah ! Madam, I know nothing of state aflfairs, 
 
 2b 
 
370 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 but I know something of Ivan de Biron, and I 
 know that he is incapable of falsehood, or ingra- 
 titude." 
 
 "You speak as a lover, Signora," replied the 
 Empress. " We women are always sure of the 
 perfections of our lovers : but I fear your 
 testimony would not carry much weight with 
 Our Grand Chancellor. Is this Ivan then so 
 very dear tp you V 
 
 Azra paused for a moment, and looked down 
 upon the ground. " He does not say so. Madam." 
 
 " What is the mystery then, my child ? Tell it 
 me all, and tell it quickly. We would do you a 
 service, but we have scant time to listen to a 
 story, if it is to be told as it is told in Our courts 
 of justice." 
 
 " Madam, I did love Ivan, and I do love Ivan 
 — better," she added, after a pause, "than any 
 one else in the world ; but not with his kind of 
 love, though I once thought it was so. But he 
 would have me all to himself." 
 
 "They are all alike, all selfish;" said the 
 Empress. 
 
 " I must quit the stage," said Aara, " I must 
 give up that which is the life of lives to me." 
 
 The Empress had heard many strange things 
 in the course of her eventM career, but it may 
 be doubted whether she had' ever heard anything 
 that more astonished her than this last sentence 
 of Azra^s. She, herself, had often said, "that 
 love was everything in this world : that there 
 was nothing to be compared with it." She had 
 often, too, thought and said, that she would have 
 given up empire to be really loved. And here 
 was this girl, who would not give up the pleasure 
 of representing mimic sovereignty for the real 
 blessing of being truly loved. 
 
AZRA'S AUDIENCE. 371 
 
 " I do not understand yon ; " said the Empress. 
 " This Ivan loves you ; and you love him ; and 
 yet you cannot leave the stage for him/' 
 
 ''He does love me, or, at least, he thinks he 
 does, but his real love was, and perhaps is, for 
 the Princess Marie Andreevna Serbatoff." 
 
 " More revelations ! " exclaimed the Empress. 
 "It seems that I know little of what goes on 
 around me in my own Court." 
 
 At this moment there was a knock at the door,, 
 and a page entered and said, that the Grand 
 Chancellor was in waiting to see Her Majesty 
 by appointment. 
 
 " No ; no : not now. We cannot see him now. 
 Let him wait ; " said the Empress. 
 
 It would be tedious to the reader to recount 
 what is already so well known to him. Saffice it 
 to say that the Empress, now deeply interested 
 in this love affair, so different in its characteris- 
 tics from anything of the kind she had known 
 before, was quite oblivious, for the moment, of 
 state affairs. By degrees, she elicited from Azra 
 the whole story of Ivan's life as far as Azra knew 
 it, beginning from that day when Ivan and his 
 master, the Duke of Courland, had met the 
 gypsies, up, to the seizure and second banishment 
 of Ivan to Siberia. Azra could not explain or 
 justify the conduct attributed to Ivan, which the 
 Empress so deeply blamed, in reference to the 
 Lapouschin conspiracy. Azra could only declare, 
 from her knowledge of his character, that it was 
 impossible he could have joined in injurious talk 
 against any one who had been so great a bene- 
 factress to him as the Czarina. 
 
 Elizabeth heard the whole story with great 
 patience, pausing every now and then to reflect, 
 for the moment, upon what she did hear. After- 
 
 2b2 
 
37 2 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 wards, without signifying by a single word what 
 impression the story had made upon her, she 
 dismissed Azra decisively, but very graciously, 
 leaving the great actress in supreme doubt 
 as to what would be the result of the inter- 
 view. 
 
 The Empress herself was in doubt. Her 
 feelings against Ivan had been, and were, very 
 bitter. His conduct had seemed to her such 
 a signal instance of treachery, that she could 
 not at once overcome her repugnance to him. 
 After recounting the interview to her favourite, 
 Mavra Schepelof, the only words she uttered 
 — and she uttered them with a sigh — were, " It 
 seems to me, my good Mavra, that neither poets, 
 philosophers, nor men of the world, and these 
 latter should know something, have ever known 
 anything about the love of women. It is, I think, 
 a mistake of nature to have paired us off so badly. 
 You remember the Princess Marie Andr^evna. 
 I always thought that girl had met with some 
 great disappointment. The face is not true to 
 the mind, and will betray its secrets, let the mind 
 be ever so resolute to keep its counsel. 
 
 "Bestuchef may come in now. No; stay. 
 Have you ever thought, Mavra, that there may 
 be a sex in souls ? AU the time that soft-looking, 
 veivety-cheeked girl, to the outward eye so rich 
 in woman's charms, was telling her story, I 
 thought how like she was to a man, who would 
 sacrifice anything to an idea — ^but very little for 
 a person. Yes, the Chancellor may come in. 
 He, too, is one of those noble beings, as they 
 think themselves, who would immolate us all, 
 myself the first, to render sure some stroke' of 
 finely-tempered policy.'' 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 IVAir, WHEN AEEESTBD, DESIBES HIS SEEVANT 
 KALYNCH TO PEOCEED AT OMCE TO THE DTTKE 
 
 OF COUELAND AND INFOEM HIM OF HIS PATE 
 
 THE DTJKE APPLIES FOE LEAVE TO WEITE TO 
 
 IVAN THE LETTER SEEN BT THE EMPEESS AND 
 
 THE GOVEENOE — KALYNCH ALLOWED TO BE THE 
 BEAEEEj AND TO BE EEINSTATED IN IVAN's SEEVICE. 
 
 Ivan, when he was arrested on the stage 
 of the opera-house, did not imagine that he 
 should have any opportunity of communicating 
 the fact of his arrest to any of his dependants. 
 The officer, however, who had arrested him, had 
 gone first to his lodgings, to inquire for him 
 there. The appearance there of an officer accom- 
 panied by three private soldiers, was sm'e, at that 
 time, to awaken suspicion in any household, as 
 to the fate of its master. The faithful Kalynch 
 instantly conjectured what was the object of this 
 inauspicious visit ; and he had the wit to follow the 
 officer at a respectful distance. As Ivan and his 
 captors entered the carriage which was to convey 
 
374 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 them to ScMiisselburg, Kalynch contrived to ap- 
 proach, it; and Ivan was able, unobserved, to 
 whisper a few words to him. These words 
 were : " Go and tell His Highness that I am 
 perfectly innocent, whatever the charge may be." 
 Movement in Eussia, from one place to another, 
 was not a very easy matter for a man in E^alynch's 
 position; and it would have been almost im- 
 possible if he had been a serf. But being a 
 freeman, and a Courlander, he could claim the 
 right to dispose of himself; and the authorities 
 acquiesced in his petition to be allowed to return 
 to his former master. 
 
 On such an event as the exile of their master, 
 the first thought of the members of Ivan's house- 
 hold was, " What will Kalynch say now ? " And 
 even Ivan himself astonished the government 
 courier, who travelled in the same carriage with 
 him, by exclaiming, grimly smiling as he said so, 
 " What will dear old Kalynch say now ? " 
 
 Kalynch, as it may be remembered, had fore- 
 told that a signal piece of good fortune -was to 
 befall his young raaster after the evil fortune of 
 the rejection of his love by Azra. This was 
 undoubted : it was the inevitable order of the 
 march of events according to the Kalynch law. 
 He, however, was the only person not disturbed 
 by this apparent contradiction. Pacts may be 
 flexible, but theories are rigid. Kalynch now 
 perceived that the rejection of Ivan's suit by 
 Azra, was only a continuation of the good fortune 
 which Ivan had met with in his favour at Court. 
 " Bhnd must the man be," said Kalynch, " who 
 did not perceive that." And the whole house- 
 hold were comforted. But it is to be feared that 
 Ivan, not being made cognizant of this lucid 
 explanation of the facts of the case, did not derive 
 
KALYNCH RETURNS TO JAROSLAW. 375 
 
 equal comfort to that which had been admi- 
 nistered to his household by the prophetic 
 Kalynch. 
 
 It is almost needless to add that the metaphor 
 of the comet was introduced. The nucleus was 
 the favour at Court : the tail was the rejection 
 of Ivan by one who was quite unworthy of him, 
 as Kalynch now did not fail to perceive. 
 
 The Duke of Courland^s affairs were in abey- 
 ance. It was still uncertain whether he would be 
 reinstated in the possession of his Duchy, for 
 which there were potent competitors. Moreover 
 the Czarina, though very favourably disposed to 
 the ex-Eegent, remembering the kindness she 
 had received from him in former days, had not 
 ventured to bring him to Court, knowing fall 
 well how hateful his presence would be to many of 
 those nobles whom she was anxious to conciliate. 
 The poet may say that " Lightly vanishes from 
 the sunlit earth the trace of human deeds,"* 
 but not so from the hearts of those who have 
 been injured by such deeds. And so it was not 
 an unwise precaution on the part of the Empress 
 to keep the Duke of Courland at a distance from 
 St. Petersburg. The place of residence assigned 
 to him was Jaroslaw. 
 
 His Highness was greatly dismayed by the in- 
 telligence which Kalynch brought to Mm. He 
 had viewed the favour, which he supposed Ivan 
 to retain with the Empress, as a means for him- 
 self of approaching her ; and it was not without 
 some satisfaction that he had hitherto thought 
 that, at any rate, one member of his family, bear- 
 ing his name, was able to hold his own at Court. 
 
 * " Leioht Verschwindet der Thaten Spiir 
 
 Von der Sonnebeleuchteten Erde." — SohUler. 
 
376 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 There was, however, one piece of intelligence 
 brought by Kalynch which still more disturbed 
 and distressed the Duke. This was the news, 
 current now throughout St. Petersburg, that the 
 Serbatoffs had been arrested and sent to Pelem.. 
 The Duke's feelings towards the Princess Marie 
 were still those of the tenderest gratitude. He 
 was wont to say to himself, that if he had known 
 her earlier, he should have been a different man. 
 Men are very fond of saying that if something 
 had happened which did not happen, they should 
 have been very different ; and doubtless not only 
 much happier, but much better than they have 
 been. 
 
 The Duke asked leave to be allowed to write a 
 letter to Ivan. This request was first addressed 
 to the governor of Jaroslaw, was by him sub- 
 mitted to the Empress, and was granted— subject 
 to the condition that the letter should be shown 
 to the governor. 
 
 This letter contained, as might be expected, a 
 severe objurgation of Ivan's conduct. The Duke 
 was obliged to assume that Ivan had, in some 
 way or other, been connected with the Lapou- 
 schin conspiracy. Very bitter were the Duke's 
 reproaches upon this head, and very pleasing 
 both to the governor and the Empress (for the 
 letter was shown to her) were the terms in' which 
 the Duke spoke of Ivan's unaccountable ingrati- 
 tude. Even in this ofiicial letter, the Duke, 
 though speaking severely of Prince Serbatoff, 
 assuming him too to have been one of the La- 
 pouschin conspirators, contrived to impress upon 
 Ivan that he should devote himself to the service 
 of the Serbatoff family and pay them every pos- 
 sible attention. 
 
 The Empress was somewhat astonished at this 
 
THE DUKE OF COURLAND'S LETTER. 377 
 
 mention of tlie SerbatoflEs. She knew full well 
 the feud that had existed between the two houses 
 and that the Prince had orig;inaIly been banished 
 by the Empress Anne, solely at the urgent 
 request of the Duke of Oourland. The Czarina, 
 however, thought this kindness to the Serbatoff 
 family was only another instance of the greatness 
 of Biron's character, and of the improvement 
 which had taken place in it by reason of his own 
 sufferings in exile. 
 
 Kalynch, accompanied by a government cou- 
 rier, was permitted to be the bearer of this missive, 
 and was, if it were allowed by the authorities at 
 Pelem, to re-enter Ivan's service. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE EEJOICINGS AT ST. PETBBSBTJRG AFTER A TIC- 
 
 TOET THE EMPRESS ALONE IN HER PALACE HER 
 
 EEMOESl AND SOEEOW AT THE BLOODSHED OCCA- 
 SIONED BY THIS VICTORY — THE DUKE OF COtTELAND 
 SEEKS AN AUDIENCE OF HEE MAJESTY. 
 
 It was a day of high rejoicing ia St. 
 Petersburg. "The news of a great victory had 
 . arrived two days before ; and this day was ap- 
 pointed for its celebration. Few capitals in the 
 ■world were more fitted for representation of this 
 kind than the capital of Russia — that larger 
 Venice set in snow. Unlike most of the 
 European cities of that periodj the newly-built 
 St. Petersburg had no tortuous streets and nar- 
 now alleys ; and, whatever devices of adornment 
 were adopted, could be widely seen — seen, too, 
 for the most part, with the redoubled beauty of 
 reflection in the glistening waters of the Neva. 
 
 In the morning, there had been a grand service 
 at the Cathedral : in the afternoon, there had been 
 
REJOICINGS AT ST. PETERSBURG. 379 
 
 a great review in front of the Winter Palace. At 
 both of these ceremonials the Empress had 
 assisted ; and the review had just concluded, as 
 the evening came on. The illuminations had al- 
 ready commenced ; and, from the windows of the 
 Palace, the reflected lights of earthly brigin 
 gleamed brightly in the waters of the Neva — 
 outshining far their pale prototypes, the stars. 
 
 It was a day of real festivity, in which every 
 one of the Czarina's subjects partook, the national 
 pride being excited to the uttermost. The vic- 
 tory, great in itself, had mo:^eover this additional 
 joy attending it, that it was unexpected : for the 
 Russian forces had previously suffered a partial 
 defeat. 
 
 One heart, and one alone, was supremely 
 wretched} and its wretchedness lacked not the 
 added misery of imperative concealment. The 
 thorns must be turned inwards. 
 
 The Empress had come back from the review, 
 and was alone iu her own apartments. She had 
 even dismissed the favourite, Mavra Schepelof. 
 It was in the magnificent costume of a Russian 
 sovereign that the Czarina had reviewed the 
 troops. Suddenly she took off the crown, and 
 threw it down upon a table, whence it rolled 
 heavily upon the ground ; and, at the same mo- 
 ment, she burst into an agony of tears. 
 
 " What have I done, what have we all done, 
 that there should be such misery upon the earth, 
 —and that too, of our own making ! Combien 
 d'innocens ont perdu la vie.* Can they lay their 
 blood upon me ? I fear they can. And what a 
 load it is to carry ! And yet how oft my words 
 
 * The very words which she afterwards used in public, 
 when lamenting over the victory of Cunersdorf. 
 
38o IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 for peace have been overborne by all these crafty 
 statesmen who surround me. 
 
 " This will be no answer at the final day. Oh 
 I am guilty — doubly, trebly guilty ! Why did I 
 ever take the burden of the Empire upon me ? 
 Why listen to that feather-headed foolj Lestocq ? 
 
 "We are like insects, imprisoned in a room. 
 They think they have power to wander thence, 
 as they hst, into the free air. No hindrance 
 intervenes, as they fondly imagine; but when 
 the poor bewildered creatures drive against the 
 hard crystal, it holds them back as surely as if it 
 were marble. So is it with us great ones. Who 
 should control Elizabeth of Russia? And yet, 
 were she really all-powerful, would there be any 
 of these wars? She is only one of these poor 
 insects battling against those seemingly easy 
 outlets, in truth impassable for her." 
 
 The unhappy woman said no more for some 
 time ; but, sitting down at a table, with her head 
 between her hands, looked out fixedly through a 
 window which was opposite, and which com- 
 manded a full view of some of the most brilliant 
 of the illuminations. 
 
 After a time, there arose a great clamour in 
 the open square before the Palace, and in the 
 surrounding streets. The Czarina understood 
 what this clamour meant. It was that she 
 should show herself to the assembled populace, 
 and receive their final acclamations. Whatever 
 her anguish might be, no thought of disap- 
 pointing her subjects entered her brave mind. 
 It was part of a sovereign's business, and it 
 must be done. Hastily she took up the unwel- 
 come crown, placed it upon her head, composed 
 her features and her dress, not forgetting to look 
 into one of the surrounding mirrors as she did so. 
 
REMORSE OF THE EMPRESS. 381 
 
 Then she stepped out upon the balcony, and 
 with smiles, which were needless as they could 
 not be seen from that distance, received the 
 tumultuous plaudits of the people, bowing gra- 
 ciously as she did so. 
 
 When this had been repeated sufficiently, she 
 again retired into the room, and again broke out 
 into the direst lamentations. These were so loud 
 that they were overheard by the favourite, who, 
 though dismissed, had not gone further than the 
 adjoining ante-chamber. 
 
 Mavra Schepelof really loved her Imperial 
 mistress. She partially conjectured what the 
 feeHngs of that mistress were. She could 
 sympathize with her distress, but not with the 
 tender feelings, that caused it, for the favourite 
 was a stateswoman, versed in intrigues, and 
 deeply ambitious for Eussia. The Czarina knew 
 this — knew all that Mavra would say to comfort 
 her — knew how unavaitiag it was, and that she 
 herself was, for the moment, utterly alone in the 
 world. 
 
 Her thoughts turned to her "dear brothers 
 and sisters," the other sovereigns of Europe. 
 Did they feel as she did? Was there any 
 sympathy to be found in them ? No : she told 
 herself: her present anguish would be incon- 
 ceivable to the hard king whose armies she had 
 conquered, and for whose soldiery, as well as for 
 her own, her heart was bleeding. 
 
 " And if he could conceive my feelings, how he 
 would despise them ! The very mothers do not 
 feel with me," she said, " the mothers who have 
 lost their children, for they are told that their 
 sons have died for the honour, of Russia, and 
 their pride wrestles with and mostly overcomes 
 their love. But I am the mother of them all, and 
 
3«2 JVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 a wicked mother ; not as the world says, but as I 
 say, and know, and feel, and shall, for ever, say 
 and know, and feel. And all their glozing words 
 bring no comfort to my soul/' 
 
 This last utterance was so loud, and so full of 
 anguish, that Mavra could restrain herself no 
 longer. She knocked at the door, and quickly 
 entered. 
 
 "I fear Your Majesty is not well;" she said. 
 "May I come in?" 
 
 "No: I am not unwell, my dear:" said the 
 Empress, in a gentle, mournful voice, "but I 
 have much to do:" and, hereupon, she affected 
 to busy herself with some papers that were 
 upon the table. " I would rather be alone just 
 now." 
 
 Mavra Schepelof did not venture to stay after 
 this dismissal, but again retired to the ante- 
 chamber. 
 
 With persons of Elizabeth's form and tempera- 
 ment, great agitation of mind is often suddenly 
 cut short and benumbed by sleep ; and so it was 
 with her on this occasion. After her last out- 
 burst of anger and vexation, and when Mavra 
 Schepelof had left the room, the Empress sud- 
 denly feU forward on the table, and was lost in 
 sleep. 
 
 Many praiseful sayings have been uttered of 
 sleep, how it "knits up the ravelled sleeve of 
 care," and the like ; but its exceeding gracious- 
 ness is most discerned in this : — that it is nearly 
 sure to change the current; of our thoughts. 
 Dreamland insists upon beiag quite another 
 country to Earthland. If it were not so; if, 
 however fantastically, dreams ran on in the same 
 groove as the severest and most urgent thoughts 
 of the day, men's lives would be much shorter 
 than they are. 
 
REMORSE OF THE EMPRESS. 383 
 
 Amid the tens of thousands whom the 
 Empress had seen in her progress to and 
 from the Cathedral, and during her review 
 of the troops, one group of persons had riveted 
 her attention. They had been standing near the 
 steps of the cathedral. It was a family group of 
 the poorer classes. The boys were in front of 
 their parents. Two of them were about the ages 
 of twelve and thirteen; and the Empress had 
 noticed the tender way in which the elder boy 
 kept an arm around the other's neck, the other 
 being apparently a sickly child. It was not the 
 first time the Empress had observed the affec- 
 tionate ways and gestures of boys of this age to 
 one another; and, as she passed along, bowing 
 and smiling to the right and left, and particularly 
 noticing this little family group, the thought 
 had passed through her mind as to whether 
 girls of that age were equally fond of one 
 another, or, at least equally demonstrative in 
 their afiection. 
 
 This little episode of thought was almost the 
 only one, which, as she afterwards said to Mavra 
 Schepelof, had distracted her mind from the 
 " load of torment " — such were her words — 
 which had weighed upon her throughout that, 
 day. 
 
 A woman, desiring sympathy above all things, 
 her loneliness had never been felt so cruelly by 
 her as on that festal occasion. 
 
 The gracious angel of dreams, carefully es- 
 chewing all the miserable thoughts and images 
 which had imbittered the Empress for those 
 many weary hours, chose as a theme the loving 
 aspect of the two little brothers, as they stood 
 near to the steps of the cathedral. 
 
 In her dream the Empress wandered about 
 
384 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 beautiful- gardens with her little nephew, the 
 Czar Peter the II — the one who had come to the 
 throne before Anne, and had died early from an 
 attack of smallpox. 
 
 He had been five or six years younger than 
 herself; and, with that habit of reasonable ques- 
 tioning, which never quite forsakes us even in 
 sleep, she wondered how it was that he had 
 suddenly grown so much taller than herself, as 
 to put his arm round her neck, and how it was, 
 too, that he seemed to take her for a boy — not 
 so great a mistake, as the English ambassador 
 would have said, if he had been the dream's 
 interpreter. 
 
 But the dream was very sweet and pleasant, 
 for she had always been very fond of her nephew; 
 and, at the time of his accession, had rejoiced in 
 there being a lineal male descendant of her 
 father, Peter the Great, to take upon himself 
 the Empire, and to free her from the duty of 
 being ambitious — private life being what this 
 wisely-intellectual woman had most desired. 
 
 She was in the midst of these happy thoughts 
 — rather feelings though than thoughts — for, all 
 the time, even when the dream was most iutense 
 and real, she was strangely conscious that she 
 was the Empress Elizabeth of Russia, and 
 wondered how this had come to pass, — when she 
 was aroused by a knock at that . door which led 
 from the grand corridor into the apartment. 
 
 She was much astonished at this, for, as she 
 had ascended the stairs, she had given the 
 strictest orders to the Chamberlains that she 
 was not to be disturbed. She, however, allowed 
 the person who knocked at the door to' enter. 
 An elderly page, of the name of Vladimir, came in. 
 He approached the table with some hesitation. 
 
THE DUKE SEEKS AN AUDIENCE. 385 
 
 The Empress looked at him, with a look ex- 
 pressing astonishment and anger. "I thoughtj 
 Vladimir/^ she said, "that I had desired to be 
 undisturbed. Were you not aware of this 1" 
 
 " Please your Majesty, I was ; but I venture 
 to think your Majesty wiU pardon me, when " — 
 He did not finish the sentence ; but, offering 
 . the Czarina a small packet, added : — " The per- 
 son who gave me this, wishes to see your Ma- 
 jesty; and I did not dare to refuse to convey 
 his message.^' 
 
 The Empress opened the packet. There was 
 in it a little ring of small value. Her colour 
 changed as she looked at this ring. Yet there 
 was nothing very mysterious about it, no won- 
 derful story connected with it. She had worn 
 it, herself, when quite a girl, and when she was 
 girlish enough to express her admiration of a 
 beautiful sapphire ring, the first she had ever 
 seen, which was worn by a young officer in the 
 household of the Empress Anne, then only the 
 Grand Duchess of Courland. This young man 
 had been sent by her on a confidential mission 
 to the Court of Russia. He had playfully 
 suggested an exchange of rings, when the prin- 
 cess, after admiring his, had refused to accept 
 it. To the exchange she had consented; and 
 he had always worn this ring upon his little 
 finger. 
 
 There was nothing very remarkable in this 
 story, except that the young courtier's name 
 was John Ernest de Biron, now Duke of Cour- 
 land. 
 
 The Empress did not fail to show her ready 
 wit, and presence of mind. She divined at once 
 that the Duke of Courland was in the Palace. 
 She knew that he had conie there without her 
 
 ie 
 
386 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 permission, and that this step on his part might 
 be fatal to him, if discovered by his enemies. 
 She said to herself, "Vladimir has recognized 
 him. He must be silenced first.'' 
 
 " Vladimir/' she said, looking sternly at him, 
 "you have disobeyed orders. I forgive you — 
 forgive you freely; but on this condition only, 
 that no one ever knows that you have disobeyed 
 orders, and that this person has had audience 
 of me. Go. Bring him, but remember that one 
 careless word may be your ruin." 
 
 The page left the room. He soon after re- 
 turned, briaging in with him the disguised Duke 
 of Courland ; and then withdrew.' 
 
BOOK VII. 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THE DUKE OP COUELAND's AUDIENCE. 
 
 " Is Your Highness mad ? " were the 
 first words which the Empress addressed to the 
 Duke. 
 
 He made no answer; but knelt down and 
 kissed the Czarina's hand. Her first thoughts, 
 womanlike, was to see how he looked j and she 
 was greatly astonished, almost shocked, at the 
 change that was visible in him. '■'! should 
 hardly have known him," was what she said to 
 herself. "You do not answer my question," was 
 what she uttered. 
 
 " I am not mad. Madam ; but, perhaps, I am 
 very foolish, for I know that I come at the risk of 
 my life to ask something which I might have asked 
 by letter. I wished to see Your Majesty once 
 more. I am fortunate in having come upon an 
 auspicious day." 
 
 " Auspicious ! " exclaimed the Empress bit- 
 terly. "Auspicious — because fifteen thousand, 
 seven hundred men clad in one colour, and 
 
 2c2 
 
388 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 twenty five thousand men clad in another colour, 
 have died upon the fields while the comrades of 
 the fifteen thousand, undismayed by the loss of 
 their friends, have stood their ground ; and it is 
 a great and glorious victory for them. 'The 
 God of Battles,^ so they fondly call him, has been 
 duly thanked; and there is, as far as I know, 
 but one heart that is miserable at all this car- 
 nage. But what is the use of moralizing to you 
 — a statesman like the rest of them — who think 
 but little of the slaughter of thousands of your 
 fellows, so that the clause of a treaty may be 
 worded a little more favourably." 
 
 " I am not here, Madam, to praise the policy 
 of your ministers." 
 
 "Ah but, Courland, they say, and say with 
 justice, that you were equally reckless of human 
 life. Mayhap you have thought of these things 
 in exile ? " 
 
 " I have. Madam," replied the Duke, and 
 these words were uttered in a melancholy tone 
 that did not escape the Empress's attention. 
 The generous woman would not press him any 
 further. The same thought came to her that 
 had occurred to her before — a thought very 
 near the truth — that the Duke of Courland was 
 an altered man, greatly refined and softened by 
 adversity. 
 
 The Duke seemed lost in thought, and thei'e 
 was silence for a minute or two. It was broken 
 by a question from the Empress. "You have 
 come to ask me something — that is why every- 
 body comes to mej for I venture to doubt, 
 Duke," and here the Empress smiled, " whether 
 the anxiety to see your Sovereign once again, 
 was quite so potent as to cause you to run the 
 risk of what Bestuchef and the other members of 
 
DUKE OF COUELAND'S AUDIENCE. 389 
 
 the council would say to such a juvenile esca- 
 pade." 
 
 The Duke smiled too ; and said, " I am glad 
 to see that the cares of Empire have not subdued 
 the pleasant wit of the Princess BHzabeth, which 
 we aU used so much to delight in." 
 
 The Empress took no notice of the compli- 
 ment ; but simply asked : — " Is Jaroslaw so duU, 
 so much more dull than Pelem, that the Duke of 
 Courland cannot endure his sojourn there ? Is the 
 Governor unobservant of the Duke's dignity and 
 pleasure ? Our orders were, that he should be 
 treated with the utmost respect. You know, 
 Duke — no man better — that most people, even 
 of failing memories ui other respects, have long 
 and accurate remembrance of injuries done to 
 themselves. Without a word more, I cannot 
 summon you to Court. Herein the statesmen 
 are, for once, right. Tour presence, otherwise 
 most welcome to me, would endanger aU rdy 
 projects of conciliation. It cannot be — at any 
 rate, not for the present." 
 
 " I know it :" replied the Duke, " much as I 
 should have liked to have returned here, and to 
 aid Tour Majesty in Council, if such a boon 
 might be permitted to me: — I know it cannot 
 be." 
 
 "Tou come, then, about the Duchy," said the 
 Empress. "This is a matter already before Our 
 CouncUj and I may tell Tour Highness, that there 
 is one person in that Council who is your firm 
 friend. Elizabeth does not forget any kindness 
 which was shown to her when she, too, was 
 powerless. We were always good friends, were 
 we not, Duke ? " These words, spoken in a 
 most kindly and affectionate manner, tended 
 greatly to reassure him. 
 
39° IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 "You would hardly think. Madam, how in- 
 different I am to all but your goodness in this 
 matter of the Duchy. One mu^ fight for one's 
 children's rights ; but I, myself, care no longer 
 for power." 
 
 " What in the world then," said the Empress, 
 somewhat emphatically, " does the man come 
 here for ? I might almost believe, as women are 
 so apt to flatter themselves, that he does come to 
 see his Sovereign." 
 
 "That is a great pleasure to him," re- 
 plied the Duke, "but the object which is 
 stiU nearer to his heart is to obtain Your 
 Majesty's pardon for Ivan de Biron and the 
 Serbatoffs. 
 
 "Ungrateful wretches aU of them!" exclaimed 
 the Czarina. "Do you know the story of your 
 Ivan ? How he fought against me : how I for- 
 gave him-: how I employed him : how I trusted 
 him : and how he rewarded me ? It was by 
 sitting at the table of my enemies, and com- 
 menting, the traitor ! upon the conduct of his 
 mistress. Slanderous comments, Duke, abomi. 
 nable calumnies ! 
 
 " Then the Serbatoffs. They, too, believe me 
 Duke, were fully implicated in the LapOuschin 
 conspiracy." 
 
 " Spies, Madam, are often incorrect in their 
 intelhgence. I ought to know that, if any man 
 does. They must say something. 
 
 " I have been for hours waiting to gain admit- 
 tance here — ^waiting until I could find some 
 friend in the household." 
 
 "It would have been better, Duke, that you 
 should not have found him." 
 
 "Well, Madam, as I waited, I looked at the 
 young trees in the north corner of the square. 
 
DVKE OF COURLANiyS AUDIENCE. 391 
 
 Tour Majesty can see them from this window. I 
 ordered them to be planted." 
 
 The Empress looked impatiently at the Duke. 
 Then it crossed her mind iiat his troubles might 
 have affected his brain, so irrelevant seemed this 
 talk about the trees. She made no remark, 
 however, and the Duke continued. 
 
 " They were tall young trees when they were 
 planted. We took them from Oranienbaum." 
 
 The Empress became still more alarmed for 
 the Duke's reason. 
 
 "Long wooden poles were driven in beside 
 them, to which they were attached, as you see, 
 by an iron ring and chain. This was, at first, a 
 most needftil support. But they have now out- 
 grown the need. No one has thought of this. 
 The iron rings have eaten into the trees ^ and 
 will, if not at once removed, be the ruin of 
 them." 
 
 " It shall be seen to, Duke," said the Czarina, 
 " there is much about Our Court which requires 
 such watchfulness as yours, ever attentive to the 
 smallest as well as to the greatest things." 
 This she said to soothe and please him, for she 
 was more than ever convinced that his mind had 
 become affected. 
 
 " Thank you. Madam ; but it was not of the 
 future of those trees that I was thinking most." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " I thought how those means of government 
 which we at first employ — for an occasion when 
 they may be needful, at length eat into the very 
 heart of that which we seek to preserve, and 
 become its ruin, not its support. These spies, 
 ever present, ever active, with their endless mass 
 of false or dubious intelligence, prove, in the 
 end, as fatal to us, the rulers of men, as those 
 
392 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 iron rings to the stunted trees I spoke of. 
 Your Majesty now understands me. Such, were 
 my poor thoughts ere I encountered the good- 
 hearted Vladimir^ almost the only grateful person 
 I have met with since my downfall." . 
 
 "Your Highness," said the Czarina, "has 
 become a great philosopher. I do not altogether 
 deny the truth of your philosophy. My own 
 conclusions are not far from yours as regards- 
 these same supports, which often become the 
 greatest hindrances to sound growth. But 
 sometimes, as you. yourself admitted, they are 
 useful to the governing powers." 
 
 "Dismiss the Empress," replied the Duke,. 
 " and let our great Elizabeth be, for the moment, 
 the wise and witty woman of the world she used 
 to be. Is it likely that Prince Serbatoff — that 
 prince and paragon of courtiers — ^then in higl^ 
 favour — would connect himself with a band of 
 obscure conspirators ? Our Elizabeth, when 
 princess, used to be a judge of character. Has 
 the weight of the Crown Imperial dwarfed her 
 powers of perception ? Is it in the slightest 
 degree probable that Prince Serbatoff was as 
 guSty as your ministers choose to suppose ? " 
 
 " If I am to drop the Empress, , and become 
 the woman of the world, may I ask what makes 
 the Duke of Courland so anxious for the welfare 
 of the Serbatoffs ? It was not so in former days, 
 I believe ? " 
 
 "No : it was not," replipd the Duke. "There 
 is much in those former days, that, if my heart's 
 blood could cancel it, should be cancelled." 
 
 The Empress reflected silently for a short 
 time, and then said : — " I may as well at once be 
 candid with Your Highness. I know the cause 
 of your solicitude for the Serbatoffs. Your Ivan 
 
DUKE OF COURLAND'S AUDIENCE. 39s 
 
 '_ I 
 
 loveSj or did love, the Princess Marie; and she 
 loves him." 
 
 The Duke drew back two or three paces, as if 
 struck by a sudden blow; and then exclaimed: — 
 " I knew nothing of this. Madam, nothing upon 
 my soul. My regard for the Serbatoffs, my 
 gratitude to the Princess Marie, was for myself 
 alone. Tour Majesty's spies do not tell you 
 everything. My presence at Pelem was be- 
 trayed to the people. The wretched rabble sur- 
 rounded me, and nearly tore me to pieces. By 
 night the Princess Marie came to me, tended my 
 wounds, soothed me, comforted me — and, indeed, 
 it is to her I owe my Hfe. If, Madam, you have 
 ever felt any kindness for me — and as you truly 
 said, we once were friends ; and long ere this, as. 
 you weU know, I would have placed the crown 
 upon your head, had it been in my power to do- 
 so — befriend these wretched exiles. They are 
 innocent. I would stake my life on that. But 
 whether innocent or not, use sovereign power 
 mercifully for once, — and restore them.'' 
 
 As the Duke uttered these words, a sudden 
 pallor overspread his countenance. The Empress 
 noticed it, rose from her own chair, brought it to 
 him, and bade him'be seated. The Duke obeyed. 
 In truth the great fatigue he had endured in 
 coming from Jaroslaw — some part of the journey 
 he had walked or ridden on horseback, to avoid 
 the questioning at the great towns — and the 
 surprise, not unmixed with a feeling of jealousy 
 and dismay, when he heard of the Princess 
 Marie's attachment to Ivan — quite overcame him. 
 
 The Empress was in agonies, fearing that it 
 should be necessary to call for assistance, and 
 that all would then be betrayed. She watched 
 him with great anxiety, until he recovered. 
 
394 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Then she said : — " My good Courland, it shall be 
 as you wish. They shall all be recalled' — even 
 your Ivan, though the young man is not as 
 faithfiil and true as his uncle. But now, summon 
 up your courage, and prepare for your return. 
 For God's sake let no one ever know of your 
 absence from Jaroslaw." 
 
 The Empress returned to the table, took 
 another chair, and immediately wrote a short 
 letter to the Grovernor of Jaroslaw, enforcing 
 silence upon him, if he should be aware of the 
 absence of the Duke of Courland. 
 
 It was an instance of the practical nature of 
 this great Sovereign that she thought whether 
 money might be necessary for him. Hastily she 
 went to a cabinet ; took from it a number of gold 
 pieces, and put them into his hand. He had 
 again almost relapsed into unconsciousness. She 
 called for Vladimir, the page; and when the 
 Duke had at last recovered himself and his 
 presence of mind, she entrusted him to the care 
 of Vladimir, saying : — " Vladimir, you know all. 
 You will go with him. back to Jaroslaw. Here is 
 my signet ring. This wiU ensure safe conduct 
 throughout the journey. Meanwhile let no one 
 enter." And, so saying, she left th& apartment. 
 
 The Duke was in a short time sufficiently 
 recovered to pursue his journey with Vladimir j 
 and they reached Jaroslaw in safety. The auto- 
 graph letter of the Empress secjired the silence 
 of the G-ovemor ; and this interview between the 
 Duke of Courland and his sovereign remained a 
 secret, known only to four persons. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 THE IMPEESS RECALLS THE SEEBATOFES AND IVAN 
 
 DE BIBON IROM EXILE THEIR JOURNEY TO ST. 
 
 PETERSBURG THE CONTINUED ESTRANGEMENT OP 
 
 MARIE AND IVAN. 
 
 The Empress saw no one more that night. 
 She was invisible even to her favourite Mavra 
 Schepelof. Strange to say, the depression of 
 spirits from which she had suffered on hearing 
 the news of the victory of her army— ^a victory so 
 dearly purchased — was partly removed by the 
 thought that, at any rate, she could do some one 
 good work, and if she managed skilfully, could 
 make some few people happy. How true it is 
 that the fate and fortunes of those who are 
 brought close to us, affect us more than the fate 
 and fortunes of thousands, or tens of thousands, 
 of those who are only units of humanity, un- 
 known to us. There never was a more fond 
 mother of her people than the Empress Elizabeth 
 of Enssia ; but this private love affair, interesting 
 
396 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 to her because she knew the persons concerned in 
 it, served for the moment to distract her thoughts 
 from the sufferings of that multitude of her 
 subjects who had died on the field of battle, to 
 enlarge her power and her renown. If, for the 
 improvement of the world, any one thing could 
 especially be desired, it would be that the powerful 
 should have that sympathy for, and interest in, 
 the distant masses of mankind — distant in station 
 from them — which they have for those with 
 ,whom they have only been brought into the 
 slightest personal contact. , 
 
 The Empress Was true to her word. The 
 Serbatoffs and Ivan de Biron were recalled from 
 Pelem. According to private instructions from 
 the Empress, the exiles were conducted by the 
 the same couriers, and attended by the same 
 escort, 
 
 "The faithless man,'' she said to herself, "shall 
 have full opportunity of converse with that true- 
 hearted girl, the Princess Marie." Elizabeth, 
 not free from the prejudices of her sex, laid all 
 the blame upon Ivan, forgetting that it was 
 impossible for him to conclude otherwise than 
 that the Princess Marie had been faithless to 
 him. 
 
 The time occupied by this journey was a very 
 tryiag time both for Ivan and the Princess. 
 Her pride, for she thought that her love was 
 scorned, made her very cold in all her intercourse 
 with him. His pride, for he thought that he had 
 been most cruelly treated by her, made him 
 equally cold to her. Prince Serbatoff bore the 
 journey with great difficulty ; and the two young 
 people were necessarily in constant communica- 
 tion to provide for lus comfort, and to make 
 joint appeals to the couriers and to the escort 
 
MARIE AND IVAN. 397 
 
 to slacken their speed, in order to render 
 the sufferings of the Prince less injurious to 
 him. 
 
 The narration of one trifling incident will do 
 more than many words of description to convey 
 a just impression of the terms on which Ivan 
 and the Princess Marie were, during these pam- 
 ful days of travel from Pelem > to St. Peters- 
 burg. 
 
 It was in the afternoon of a day during which 
 Prince Serbatoff had shown signs of more than 
 -ordinary fatigue. The Princess Marie was much 
 alarmed j and, at the last post-house, had, though 
 reluctantly, communicated her alarm to Ivan. 
 He then besought the Government couriers, and 
 the captain of the escort to be allowed, for the 
 next stage, to accompany the Prince in his 
 ■carriage. They were at that time approaching 
 the end of their journey, and had exchanged 
 -sledges for telegas.. The principal Government 
 courier had received instructions to deal humanely 
 with the returning exiles; and, when made 
 acquainted with the circumstances of the case, 
 ■consented to the proposal. 
 
 During the last stage of that day which was to 
 bring them to a large town at no great distance 
 from St. Petersburg (it was most probably 
 Josna) the Prince was certainly far more feeble 
 than usual. In order to give him more ease of 
 posture, Ivan a,nd the Princess persuaded him to 
 recline. In this position they had to support 
 him ; and, in doing so, their hands accidentally 
 met. Each of them simultaneously withdrew the 
 hand, as if it had touched the hand of an enemy. 
 The poor Prince made an exclamation of pain 
 from this sudden withdrawal of support. The 
 telega, being a very rough mode of conveyance. 
 
398 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 exposed him to a somewhat severe jolting. They 
 both felt ashamed. They joined hands to ensure 
 the prevention of a similar accident; but there 
 was no fond pressure of the hands; and two 
 servants, dutiftdly taking care of a master, could 
 not have manifested more indifference for each 
 other than did these two ardent lovers, for 
 such they were, who clasped hands so firmly, but 
 so unaffectionately. Bach, too, avoided looking 
 at the other; and each, with settled pride of 
 heart, took care to make it understood by the 
 other, that solicitude for the Prince was not 
 to be made into a pretext for any friendly 
 proximity, moral or physical, on the part of his 
 supporters. 
 
 It was in the course of that . stage, that they 
 were witnesses of one of the most beautiful of 
 any of Nature's multiform phenomena — an aspect 
 of Nature which it is given to few people to 
 behold. The cavalcade was entering a mountain 
 gorge. On the right hand, and on the left, the 
 mountains descended towards the road which 
 they had to traverse. It had been raining 
 previously for the last hour, and was raining 
 still upon the sides of the mountains. But bright 
 sunshine had come forth and illumined the whole 
 of the long level road they had to travel. Then 
 there appeared a perfect rainbow. Over all the 
 roadway, in its central part, it was but an ordi- 
 nary rainbow. On the sides of the mountains 
 which enclosed the travellers, it was of gigantic 
 extent; and it took in whole forests, from the 
 base of the mountains to their summits, which it 
 transformed into masses of red, yellow,- and violet 
 trees. 
 
 The escort involuntarily stopped ; and, silently, 
 each person regarded with wonder, and with 
 
MARIE AND IVAN. 399 
 
 somewliafc of superstitious awe, this grand spec- 
 tacle, whicli was new to every one of them. 
 
 The Prince himself forgot his pain and his 
 fatigue ; withdrew from the support of Ivan and 
 his Marie, and looked on as wonderingly as the 
 rest of them. In a few minutes the rainbow 
 vanished as suddenly as it had appeared; and 
 the harsh voice of the government courier was 
 heard, urging on the drivers to movement. The 
 stem official was somewhat ashamed of himself 
 for having allowed this brief interruption to their 
 journey, for which there was no government 
 authority. 
 
 Meanwhile, what were the thoughts of Ivan 
 and the Princess Marie ? Each thought how 
 this brilliant phenomenon, and the gloom which 
 followed it, told forth the sad story of their own 
 lives. 
 
 There was their first love mirrored in all the 
 brilliancy and in 3,11 the joy which made every 
 aspect of nature beautiful for each of them. 
 Then there was the sudden gloom which over- 
 spread all nature, and all life, when this transitory 
 and vehement beauty had vanished. Bach of 
 them wished to sigh; but each suppressed the 
 sigh, fearing that it might tell the other too 
 much of sorrow and regret, and might betray 
 those feelings which wounded pride forbade 
 each to disclose. 
 
 The Prince sank back in the telega, and was 
 aga;in supported by the intertwined hands of his 
 affectionate young friend and his loving daughter. 
 But those hands, though they trembled, appa- 
 rently under the weight of the good old Prince, 
 did not betray to their owners the sadness and 
 the desolation which were so well figured forth 
 to each of them, by the sudden vanishing of the 
 
400 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 brilliant and rare phenomenon wHcli had, for so 
 short a time, gladdened the beholders. 
 
 Ivan could not but admire the skilful tender- 
 ness of the Princess in regard to everything that 
 concerned her father; and found himself often 
 considering what an admirable wife such a tender 
 daughter would prove, if, as he said to himself, 
 the proud girl could love any one who was not 
 dignified by long descent, and enriched by large 
 possessions. But, as regards love, he had come 
 to the firm conclusion that her love was of that 
 well-ordered kind which requires station and 
 riches to be added to the object of its affection, 
 before it can condescend to be evoked. He said 
 to himself, rather wittily, but very unjustly : " As 
 in a good coat of arms there must be proper 
 supporters; so, for the Princess Marie's love, 
 there must stand on one side an heraldic animal, 
 signifying rank, and, on the other side, another 
 animal supporter signifying wealth." 
 
 Of all the errors that beset mankind, perhaps 
 the greatest is, that most people imagine that 
 others know what they know; and are thinking 
 or acting in accordance with that knowledge. 
 How great was this error in the present case ! 
 Ivan condemned Marie, unconsciously assuming 
 that she should have known that he had put 
 aside for. ever his transient love, as he was pleased 
 to call it, for the great singer Azra. The 
 Princess Marie, on the other hand, unconsciously 
 assumed that Ivan should know (how could his 
 direct and honest nature imagine such a thing ?) 
 that she had only promoted his suit to Azra, from 
 the highest motives, having come to the sad 
 conclusion that their love (her own and his) was 
 hopeless, and that she had but striven to gain 
 for him some true love which it was denied for 
 
MARIE AND IVAN. 401 
 
 her, alas ! to give. " He ought to have seen 
 how much I suffered in giving him up," she said 
 to herself, "but men are so stupid." 
 
 Therein she was right ; but how can it be ex- 
 pected that we denser mortals, perhaps more given 
 to ha^d truth and distinctness than the other sex, 
 can imagine all the delicacy, the depth of feeling, 
 and the profoundness of self-sacrifice, of which 
 that other sex is capable ? 
 
 The benevolent intentions of the Empress were 
 not successful; and this journey did not result 
 in bringing the two lovers more in harmony 
 together. It did result, though, in making each 
 admire the other more, and more regret the 
 hopelessness, in each case, of their affection. 
 Ivan said to himself, " She is more loveable to 
 me than ever; but further removed from me 
 than ever." The Princess said to herself, " Ivan 
 is even a greater man than I thought ; but he 
 is less my own than ever. I fear him more 
 than I did. There is a certain darkness which 
 has overspread his character; and I am consoled 
 in thinking, though it is a bitter and a wicked 
 consolation, that he will never love any woman, 
 having, as I can see, such a profound contempt 
 for all of us." 
 
 It was with such mistaken thoughts that they 
 arrived at St. Petersburg. 
 
 As for the Prince, skilful as he was in diplo- 
 macy, and much as he had made it his business 
 to master the characters of those he came in 
 contact with, he could not understand either of 
 these young persons. It was in vain that he 
 praised each to the other. There was no re- 
 sponse, or at best a very cold one; and he 
 came to the conclusion, a very unwelcome one 
 to most persons of his age, that he did not 
 
 2d 
 
402 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 understand the young people of the present time. 
 The truth is, he had begun to wish that Ivan 
 were his son-in-law. " It is very degrading, no 
 doubt/' he said to himself, "that a Serbatoff 
 should desire to ally himself to an upstart 
 Biron." But the good Prince was, after all, one 
 of those persons who only use their diplomacy 
 in reference to other people, and are true to 
 themselves ; and at last, he could not but ac- 
 knowledge that he heartily, however degradingly, 
 wished that these two young people woidd 
 have the goodness, if only out of regard to him, 
 to love one another, and become united in ma- 
 trimony. 
 
 It would be unjust to the worldly training and 
 principles of the Prince to say that no worldli- 
 ness entered into these views. He reasoned 
 thus : — There must be something very taking 
 in Ivan, something appreciated by the Empress, 
 for him to be recalled a second time from exile. 
 " With my knowledge of Courts, and my skiU. 
 in diplomacy, (and he is not above being taught 
 by me) he might rise to the highest station 
 in the State." It seemed to the veteran states- 
 man that, having no hopes or expectations, with 
 regard to his own advancement, he could throw 
 aU his energy, and aU his skill, into making a 
 worthy pupil, and in some sort a successor to 
 himself, of his dear young friend, Ivan de Biron. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE EMPRESS SENDS FOE IVAN — THE INTERVIEW 
 
 IVAN FINALLY RE-INSTATED IN THE EMPEESs's 
 FAVOUR. 
 
 The Empress was impatient for the ar- 
 rival of the Serbatoffs and Ivan. She had in her 
 mind a whole drama to play, and was scarcely 
 less interested in it than she had heen in the 
 intrigues of Lestocq and La Chetardie, when 
 they were ah out to gain for her the Empire. 
 Then she had been tortured by remorseful 
 doubts, and by anxious apprehensions. Now, 
 whatever might be the result, there was no 
 doubt or danger for herself. 
 
 After much thought she determined to send 
 for Ivan first. It was for him, though, that she 
 felt the least liking; and, if it had been his 
 welfare alone that was at stake, she could hardly 
 have taken much interest in the matter. 
 
 On the second day after his arrival, Ivan was 
 sent for to the Palace. 
 
 2d2 
 
404 IVAN DE BIRON: 
 
 Never was Elizabeth of Eussia more resolved 
 than on this occasion to conduct herself with 
 the coldness and haughtiness of a Sovereign who 
 had been deeply injured by the base ingratitude 
 of an inferior. 
 
 Ivan had scarcely entered the room before 
 she addressed him with these forbidding 
 words. 
 
 " We have sent for you, Sir, because we wish 
 that you should know that it is not from any 
 merits or deserts of your own, that we have 
 recalled you from an exile which was so justly 
 your due. Your uncle has pleaded for you. 
 My regard for his Highness has induced me to 
 listen to his request, and, for the moment, to 
 put aside the baseness of the person for whom 
 he has made that request. On his account, we 
 would even do more than that. We in high 
 place are not always wise or circumspect iu our 
 likings J and we doubt not that you have de- 
 ceived him, as you deceived us. You visited the 
 Lapouschins, did you not ? " 
 
 " I did, please Your Majesty," replied Ivan. 
 
 " You were present at those dinners where our 
 conduct was so unjustly and traitorously im- 
 pugned ; and not one word did you, our faithful 
 servitor, a member of our household, ennobled* 
 by us, urge in answer to those calumnies directed 
 against Our Imperial person. Was it not 
 so?" 
 
 "Yes, Madam." 
 
 *It seems strange that the Empress never addressed 
 him by his title of ' Baron,' but it is probable that she held 
 that his nobility had been cancelled by his condemnation 
 to exile as a traitor. One of the first things that an ac- 
 cused person seems to have suffered was to have his 
 orders (if he had any) torn from his breast. 
 
IVAN AND THE EMPRESS. 405 
 
 " It seems as if you held those calumnies to be 
 true. Is it so?" 
 
 Ivan was standing near to the table at which 
 the Empress was sitting, and in front of it, where 
 she had motioned him to stand. On hearing this 
 question, which, doubtless, she expected him to 
 answer in the negative, he looked, not at her, 
 but over her, towards the window which com- 
 manded the great square. 
 
 The Czarina, not unused to avail herself of 
 all possible advantages in an interview, had 
 placed herself in shadow, and the "traitorous 
 Ivan" as she named him to herself, in full 
 light. 
 
 On hearing Her Majesty's last question, it 
 seemed to him as if a similar danger had come 
 upon him, as that which he had encountered long 
 ago, when his master, the Duke of Courland, 
 questioned him as to his conduct as Prime 
 Minister of Russia. 
 
 Ivan said to himself, " If I die for it, I will not 
 speak falsely." 
 
 "Ivan Ivanovitch:"* said the Empress, 
 "there is no inspiration to be found where 
 you are looking for it. If the great duke were 
 by your side, not even his practised skUl as a 
 courtier could suggest a judicious answer foreign 
 from the truth. Say at once. '\ am a young 
 man : I had not the courage to contradict those 
 pleasant friends. Gtratitude is feeble when it has 
 to contend with the sayings of a wicked merry 
 set of people, my companions arid my elders. 
 What is friendship, what is duty, when compared 
 
 * The Czarina made a singular mistake in so naming 
 him. The Duke of Courland's name was also John (or 
 Ivan) ; and she for the moment, seemed to assimie that 
 the Duke was Ivan de Birou's father. 
 
4o6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 witli the wisli to please the present company? 
 We must go with the stream, though it should 
 drag down all those whom we are' most bound to 
 honour and to serve.'" 
 
 " No,' Madam : No. ' Ivan Ivanovitch,' as you 
 call him, fears not the ridicule of living man or 
 woman ; but he said nothing in answer to these 
 spiteful people, because he feared to provoke 
 their further spitefulness. He thought, indeed 
 he knew, that much of what they said was true." 
 
 As he uttered these bold words, he turned to 
 the Empress, and looked at her. It was her 
 turn to be embarrassed now ; and the great lady, 
 much unused to blushing, blushed and shivered 
 slightly. She did not meet his steadfast, gaze, 
 but looked down upon the ground. 
 
 The kind-hearted Ivan repented him of what 
 he had said. Suddenly he advanced towards her, 
 knelt at her feet, and took her hand. " Gtreat 
 Sovereign," he said, " for indeed you are a great 
 sovereign, you would have the truth, and I have 
 told it. You may condemn me to death; but 
 can you ever forgive me ? It is a little thing to 
 say; but, at that moment, when those unkind 
 and wicked people were speaking insolently of 
 Your Majesty, could my death have stayed their 
 talk, I would have given my life to stay it. And, 
 Madam, it would have been no great sacrifice : 
 for what is life to me ! " 
 
 The Empress had conquered her first feeling 
 of wrath. He still held her left hand as he knelt 
 before her. Almost unconscious of what she was 
 doing, she laid her right hand for a moment or 
 two upon his head. Many thoughts passed 
 through her mind while she did so. Here 
 was a true man : how different a man from any 
 of her transient and unworthy lovers ! What 
 
IVAN AND THE EMPRESS. 407 
 
 ■would it not have been to liave gained the love 
 of this man ! She felt as if she could have loved 
 such a onej if only for his truthfulness. And 
 then she thought, for this great woman was, one 
 of the most unselfish of womankind, of his private 
 misery, which now was not unknown to her. 
 
 " Bise, Ivan/^ she said, " do not condemn me. 
 There is nothing worth living for, as I often say, 
 but love ; and even the semblance of it has been 
 very dear, too dear, to me. I forgive you for 
 what you have said. The water-carriers in the 
 streets say the same, I doubt not. But should 
 you have said it ?" 
 
 " No/' replied Ivan softly. 
 
 The Empress was silent for a few moments. 
 She strove to dismiss entirely her own mortifica- 
 tion from her mind, and to think only of how she 
 could best weave into some happy form the 
 tangled skeins of Ivan and the Princess Marie's 
 love, which lay before her. She thus began. 
 
 "You men are great fools, Ivan Ivanovitch; 
 and in the greatest affairs the greatest fools. 
 You know the Princess Marie Serbatoff ?" 
 
 Ivan drew himself up proudly, and answered : 
 ■" Yes, Madam, I have that honour." 
 
 "We hardly know," continued the Empress, 
 smiling, " why we should speak of her. But the 
 story of the girl's life might interest you. You 
 travelled with her, we beHeve, from Pelem ?" 
 
 " Yes, Madam." 
 
 " Well : she had been in exile before. There 
 was a youth, somewhat obscure at that time, and, 
 not from his obscurity alone, unworthy of her 
 love. But the maiden loved him. The hearts of 
 maidens are not directed by the dictates of pure 
 reason. Sir, a more true-hearted girl than this 
 
4o8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Princess lives not in the world. She saw, or 
 thought she saw, that this love of hers could 
 come to no good result for the man she loved. 
 Her father and a near kinsman of her lover's 
 were deadly enemies. Then, (could you but 
 imagine the fond devotion of us women, but this 
 is far from you) she thought she could secure his 
 happiness by another love : that of some actress, 
 if I mistake not. The Priacess thought, and,, 
 poor girl, was not greatly in error there, that the 
 loves of men are somewhat transferable. And so 
 it proved. It is now your turn, Ivan Ivanovitch, 
 to look down upon the ground, and to feel some 
 of the shame which, hard-hearted man, you have 
 just made another feel." 
 
 After a moment, Ivan said : " Tour Majesty's 
 quick wit was well known to me ; but I had not 
 hitherto been favoured by hearing a love story 
 from the Czarina's lips. Perhaps you thought 
 that such stories would not be relished by one 
 whom, in happier days, you were wont to call 
 ' your serious scholar.'' If I may venture to say 
 so, the story smacks somewhat of fable." 
 
 "By God, Sir!" (The daughter of Peter the 
 Great was wont to use some of the strong 
 language of her father) "by God, Sir! it is all 
 true. It may be from our own knowledge of our 
 own sex, that We have told more of the maiden'a 
 feelings than the evidence before us strictly 
 warrants ; but what We have said. We feel. We 
 know, to be true. The poets and the dramatists 
 fable of us who tread the heights of this world. 
 They are pleased to enlighten mankind about our 
 inmost thoughts and feelings; and, sometimes, 
 even they are right; but my intelligence is 
 sure — ^bare facts with nothing of dramatic skill 
 thrown in to weave a pretty story. That smile 
 
IVAN RE-INSTA TED IN FA VO UR. 409^ 
 
 of yours is still the protest of an unbeliever. On 
 this day week come hither at this same hour of 
 the day^ when further assurance shall be given to 
 you. But stay : supposing that the story be no 
 fablOj what think you should be the feelings of 
 the recreant lover ?" 
 
 "If I know anything of him, Madam, they 
 would be those of utter devotion to the maiden 
 whom he first courted in the wood of Pelem." 
 
 "We said nothing. Sir, about a wood. Who 
 is it now that is adding circumstances, false 
 mayhap, to Our simple story ? If you know the 
 young man, Ivan, tell him from me, that the most 
 precious thing this world has to give is the real 
 love of such a maiden as this heroiae of my 
 story. 
 
 "Have you nothing to ask? It seems We 
 have given audience to a phantom — not to a 
 human being — ^when nothing is asked of Us. 
 We must, then, ask for you thus : 
 
 " ' Gracious Madam, I listened silently to bitter 
 censure of your conduct : I — a member of your 
 household, and somewhat, perhaps, indebted to 
 you — listened silently because I felt that the 
 censure was just; and, having told you this, 
 I wish to be re-instated iu your household, and 
 think I have abundant claim to be so.^ That is 
 what you should say, did not some foolish touch 
 of modesty prevent you. 
 
 " To the which saying, We reply, ' Your great 
 deserts are recognised.^ Nay, without further 
 jesting, Ivan de Biron, a place shall be found for 
 my good, honest, ' serious scholar.' " 
 
 Ivan knelt and kissed the Empress's hand. 
 She added. "Our Chancellor tells us daily 
 that our Treasury is lean and poverty-stricken. 
 Poorer it wiU still become if we are to bestow the 
 
4IO IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 offices of exiles upon new men ; and, afterwards, 
 are to find new offices for exiles on their return. 
 Even wealthy Britain could hardly bear such 
 demands upon her Treasury; but for once it 
 must be so. You are again Our faithful ser- 
 vant." 
 
 The love of polished sarcasm which was 
 inherent in this great Princess made her 
 accentuate the word 'faithful;' but her looks 
 were most kind and encouraging. She sHghtly 
 bowed, signifying that the audience was over, and 
 Ivan de Biron accordingly withdrew. 
 
BOOK YII. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 THE empress's PLAU TOE THE WBLEAEE OF IVAN DE 
 BIEON AND THE PEINCBSS MAEIl — THE EMPBBSS 
 SENDS FOB NAEISKOPF. 
 
 The Empress Bliaabetli's education had 
 been of a very uncertain and scrambUng kiad. 
 She had been taught several languages ; she had 
 acquired several accompHshments : but her course 
 of reading had been very much left to herself. 
 She had tead many of the tragedies and comedies 
 written in that age ; and in them^ as a regular 
 rule, were to be found some persons of inferior 
 station in whom the hero and heroine un- 
 reservedly confided. The Czarina believed 
 that this was the natural course of things ; 
 and indeed it is probable that people in those 
 days did confide much more to their inferiors 
 in station, and certainly talked much more 
 openly of their loves and their hatreds, than 
 any persons, in this reserved age, are wont to do. 
 The Empress had naturally conjectured that 
 
412 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 there must be people at Pelem who would be 
 cognizant of all those matters of which she 
 was anxious to be informed, in order to fulfil her 
 benevolent intentions towards the two lovers. 
 She had accordingly given orders that any 
 especial friend of the Princess Marie, or of Ivan 
 de Biron, should be sent back to St. Petersburg, 
 not in their company, but as shortly afterwards 
 as might be. 
 
 The authorities at Pelem had not been able to 
 ascertain that the Princess had anv friend : but 
 there was no doubt that Ivan de Biron had an 
 intimate friend ia Nariskoff, and he was therefore 
 sent to St. Petersburg, to await the orders of the 
 Empress. 
 
 In the course of the week that was to elapse 
 between the interview which the Empress had 
 given to Ivan and the succeeding interview 
 which she had promised to him, she sent for this 
 man Nariskoff. She was well aware of his repu- 
 tation for satire, and was, on that account, by 
 no means favourably disposed towards him. 
 
 Nariskoff himself was in high glee at being 
 thus sent for; and, with his usual conceit, was 
 quite prepared to give the Empress whatever 
 benefit as regards State affairs was to be derived 
 from his superior wisdom. 
 
 The Empress received him very coldly; and, 
 with her usual abruptness, led at once to the 
 subject of the interview. 
 
 " You have long been acquainted. Sir, with 
 Ivan de Biron, an exile who has lately been 
 recalled from Pelem. I am desirous of knowing 
 anything you can teU me of this young man^s 
 character and conduct.'' 
 
 " He is a man of moderate abilities, please 
 Your Majesty, but honest, and capable of taking 
 
NARISKOFF'S AUDIENCE 413 
 
 good a.dvice. I have myself often instructed him 
 as regards his conduct to Your Majesty. I can 
 answer for his faith and honesty as I could for 
 my own." 
 
 " Sir ; if you can do no more than that, your 
 testimony is of little value to him. We know 
 you well ; we are fully informed of the gracious 
 and truthful sayings, as regards ourselves, with 
 which you were wont to repay the company at 
 Madame Lapouschin's, for your entertainment 
 there." 
 
 Nariskofif's sagacity was not to be found at 
 fault on an occasion like the present. He could 
 be as truthful, from poHcy, as Ivan was from the 
 innate and supreme honesty of his character. 
 NariskofiF had the audacity thus io reply. 
 " Madam, if it had been the Czarina's fate, as it 
 has been mine, to live upon her wits for many 
 a year, she would not have been scrupulous as to 
 what she said of friend or foe, so that she found 
 her sayiags gaiaed favour with those who fed 
 and clothed her. We people of superior wit, 
 when Fortune has not been kind to us, must live 
 upon the follies of our weaker brethren." 
 
 The Empress paused for a moment, hesitating 
 whether she should be indignant at the presump- 
 tion of the man, or take his bold speech in a 
 lighter spirit. The latter alternative prevailed, 
 and she indulged in an outburst of laughter. "I 
 have been witness of some audacity in my time," 
 she said, "but none like that of yours, my 
 friend. Treason then is a jest — the duty to 
 one's sovereign to be postponed to any opportu- 
 nity of causing laughter in a company of 
 traitors ? " 
 
 "I did not say that, please Your Majesty; I 
 only intimated that one must live, and not be too 
 
414 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 scrupulous as to the mode of gaining one^s 
 living." 
 
 " Keep to the subject for which We sent for 
 you. Sir. We wish to know more about your 
 friend and companion, Ivan de Biron.'' 
 
 "Well, Madam, he is a good youth with a 
 somewhat warped and bewildered mind. He is 
 insane enough at times to speak evil things, 
 even against women." 
 
 " Ourselves for instance ! " said the Empress 
 sharply. 
 
 Nariskoff acted as the confidant in a play, 
 fulfilling the character which Elizabeth had 
 imagined for him; and, accordiagly, after some 
 doubt as to whether truth or falsehood would be 
 most expedient, adopted the common form, and 
 lied : " Oh ! no. Madam, Ivan never ventured to 
 speak iU of Your Majesty. The Czarina was an 
 exception to all other women." 
 
 " This is a falsehood. Sir : your hesitation 
 showed it to be so. And if the true-hearted 
 young man were here, he would own that, in his 
 conversations with you, when he spoke against 
 women in general, Elizabeth of Russia was by no 
 means a distinguished exception." 
 
 Nariskoff, with his ready tact, appreciated at 
 once the necessities of his position, and resolved 
 to tell no more falsehoods. "I cannot say, 
 Madam> now that you have quickened my 
 memory, that even his Empress was entirely 
 exempted from blame." 
 
 " We now. Sir, understand one another 
 better," said the Empress. "When men talk 
 this idle talk about their hatred for all women, it 
 merely means, that there is some one woman 
 whom they love very much; but who does not 
 seem fully to appreciate their especial merits. 
 
THE EMPRESS AND NARISKOFF. 415 
 
 Is it not so ? We see you are a humourist, and, 
 one who knows somewhat of human life, and of 
 the strange ways of human beings. We have 
 but httle time for further converse; and We 
 would hear forthwith, in the fewest words, what 
 you can tell us. You know the Princess Marie 
 Andreevna Serbatoff ; she was also at Pelem ? " 
 
 Nariskoff replied, not without his accustomed 
 conceit : — " Tour Majesty, and my poor self, 
 are persons of the world. I could have wished 
 that we had been earlier acquainted with one 
 another." 
 
 The Empress again laughed heartily. "Go 
 on, man," she said, "I have seldom met with 
 one so largely endowed with impudence ; but he 
 who can give intelligence of any kind, must 
 give it in his own way, and is, for the moment, 
 the superior. We await, respectfully, for what- 
 ever information you may be pleased to give 
 us." 
 
 " Ivan is a learned man. Madam ; but learning 
 does not go far to instruct us when we are in 
 that state of mind in which all the wisdom of 
 the world is valueless. He thinks he does not 
 love the Princess Marie, but he has never ceased 
 to love her. I divine this from the fact, that he 
 always spoke more bitterly of her than of any 
 other woman, Tour gracious Majesty not ex- 
 cepted. And she loves him. And they are two 
 simple fools wandering about, blindfold, in a 
 maze, and not likely ever to meet, or to under- 
 stand one another, unless some sensible person, 
 such as Tour Majesty or myself, should bring 
 their two foolish selves together, and take off 
 the bandages from their eyes." 
 
 Nariskoff thought that he might now say a 
 word or two for himself. On his own interests. 
 
4i6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 He had no idea of sinking the character of suitor 
 in that of witness. He availed himself of an 
 opportunity of silence, while the Czarina was 
 Te'flecting what question she should ask him 
 next. 
 
 " There is no greater proof of wisdom in a 
 man, please Your Majesty, than that he should 
 know his own value. When you find that a man 
 is unsuccessful, it is merely that he has not 
 "understood his own value, or has not understood 
 it early enough, or has not, from the denseness 
 of those around him, been alile to persuade them 
 of this value in himself. That latter difficulty 
 has at length been removed from me, now that I 
 have met with a great personage who can under- 
 stand my merits.'' 
 
 "Yes," said the Empress, "you would make 
 an admirable spy." 
 
 "Spy is a hard word. Madam. Would you 
 allow me to substitute the phrase ' observant 
 philosopher'?" 
 
 " So be it then," replied the Empress : "words 
 are of little moment. I say, then, that you would 
 make an admirable ' observant pliilosopher.' " 
 
 " I ever saw. Madam, that these Lapouschins 
 were hastening to destruction : but what could I 
 do ? They were the only people who fed me. 
 Has Your Majesty ever been hungry for a whole 
 ■day long ? " 
 
 " We cannot say. Sir, that we have had that 
 experience, so necessary, it appears, to the mak- 
 ing of an ' observant philosopher.' " 
 
 " That Madame Lapouschin — I never liked her 
 — deserved the fate she met with." 
 
 " Base man, wretch — ungrateful villain ! " ex- 
 claimed the Empress, starting from her chair. 
 ■" She did not deserve it. Oh ! my God," she 
 
THE EMPRESS AND NARISKOFF. 417 
 
 muttered, as she walked up and down the room 
 in a transport of anguish; " is this for ever to come 
 up against me ? " Then^ recollecting herself, 
 and considering how she must never own, at 
 least to such a man, that her government had 
 been in any instance wrong, she added hastily, 
 *' Yes, yes, she did deserve it ; but you will 
 understand. Sir, that one woman's heart bleeds 
 for another^s torments ; and her death was never 
 intended. But what is it that We were speaking 
 about ? " 
 
 The Empress, in her agony of remorse, had 
 really forgotten the subject of the interview ; and 
 it was with difficulty that she brought back her 
 mind to the matter at issue. Then she ex- 
 claimed : — " This Ivan, and the Princess Marie : 
 how know you. Sir, that this early and immature 
 attachment still prevails ? " 
 
 Nariskoflf, whom this outburst had greatly 
 frightened, replied, in somewhat hesitating 
 words : — " All other persons wear their hearts 
 inside their garments; but lovers on their out- 
 ward breasts ; and every man of sense can read 
 what these hearts teU him. I had many 
 walks in the wood at Pelem ; (Pelem, Tour 
 Majesty, is not the loveliest spot on this 
 Earth's surface;) and both the Princess and 
 this innocent youth are as fond of one another 
 as—" 
 
 " You need not finish your sentence. Sir : We 
 care not for fine-drawn similes. Suffice it to 
 say, they love as two such noble hearts must 
 love. I should not, however, have thought that 
 the delicate Princess would have chosen for her 
 confidant such an 'observant philosopher' as 
 jourself." 
 
 "Nor did she. Madam. But I, myself, have 
 
 2e 
 
4i8 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 been in love ere now. Base as I am ; ' wretch/ 
 as Your Majesty was pleased to call mOj I have 
 not always been so." 
 
 "Forgive me; Sir. You knew not how 
 nearly you touched Us, when you spoke of the 
 fate of Madame Lapouschin." 
 
 Poor NariskofF was greatly moved. The re- 
 collection of his former days came back upon 
 him. " YeSj Madam ; " he exclaimed, and tears 
 rolled down his cheeks while he uttered these 
 words, " I was not once a ' wretch.' I was rich : 
 I had serfs : I was a philanthropist and a fool." 
 
 The Empress was silent while she recalled to 
 her mind the information which she had ordered 
 to be given to her of Nariskoflf's former life and 
 circumstances. Then, advancing towards him, 
 she said with that gracious manner which no one 
 could more aptly and suddenly evoke : — " Yes, 
 we know it all, and there is a kindred feeling 
 between us. I, too, feel for these serfs, and the 
 day will come — " Here she stopped abruptly. 
 " You shall be cared for. Put aside the thought 
 for yourself, for your own fortunes, and be the 
 man you once were. It shall not be said that in 
 Elizabeth's reign a man shaU suffer for having 
 the same designs that are her own. But silence 
 about that." 
 
 The Empress made a great effort to recover 
 her composure, and to turn the conversation 
 into other channels. She added : — " The Prin- 
 cess Marie is still very beautiful, is she not ? " 
 
 Nariskoff, with a foolish notion that he 
 had, that it was not advisable to praise one 
 woman's beauty to another, replied: — "Well, 
 for a slender woman she is passable, but I would 
 not, myself, trust to those straight eyebrows, and 
 those eyes which can look sO fiercely. Ivan, 
 
THE EMPRESS AND NARISKOFF. 419 
 
 however, is a youth, who can hold his own. 
 There will be battlesj and no one can say who 
 will be the victor." 
 
 The Empress smiled^ and said : " In such 
 a contest, not even your sagacity. Sir, can 
 tell what will be the result. It is enough : you 
 may go j and take care that not a word of what 
 you have said to Us be known to the Princess 
 Marie, or to Ivan de Biron." 
 
 ■Nariskoff was about to withdraw, when th^ 
 Empress retained him with a sign, and asked 
 him the following question. 
 
 " That actress ? " 
 
 Nariskoff merely shook his head, and said: 
 "Nothing in that. Tour Majesty. We affec- 
 tionate souls must think we are loving somebody ; 
 and from the greatest we decHne to the lowest, 
 by way of contrast." 
 
 " Not the lowest. Sir : a nobler person than our 
 prima donna does not live." The Empress signed 
 to Nariskoff to withdraw, and then uttered these 
 words : " Not only the nobler but the wiser of 
 the two; and would that I could follow her 
 example, and love the art of kingcraft more than 
 any of these men, so unworthy of my love. She 
 is the greatest who least condescends to them." 
 
 Thus did this great Empress contradict her 
 former sayings, in which she had placed love as 
 the highest boon of life. 
 
 2 e2 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE SEEBATOFFS, ITANj AZEA, AND NAEISKOFF AEE 
 OEDEEED TO ASSEMBLE IN THE STATE EOOM OF THE 
 
 WINTER PALACE THE OBJECT OF THE EMPEESS 
 
 IN THUS ASSEMBLING THEM — ITS FAILUEE. 
 
 In a week's time after the interview 
 between the Empress and Ivan de Biron, there 
 were assembled in a State Room of the Winter 
 Palace, several persons who did not seem to be 
 in very pleasant relation to one another. This 
 room was very large and very gorgeously fur- 
 nished; but) it had that cold look which such 
 great rooms for reception mostly have, and 
 which no splendour of decoration can remove. 
 The want of constant habitation makes itself felt 
 in the State rooms of Palaces, as in the parlours 
 of those houses in which the family do not live, 
 but only receive company. 
 
 Prince Serbatoff and his daughter were there, 
 as also Ivan de JBiron, Nariskoff and Azra. 
 They stood, for the greater part of the time, in 
 
PLAN OF RECONCILIA TION. 42 1 
 
 two separate groups. The Prince and his daugh- 
 ter were stationed near one window of the room ; 
 Ivan de Biron and Nariskoff at another ; while 
 Azra, occasionally moved from one party to 
 another. 
 
 There was also another person in the room, a 
 stranger to them all, who never spoke to any of 
 them. He was dressed entirely in black j and 
 various conjectures were made by each of the 
 other persons as to the object of his presence 
 there. The Prince thought he was a spy ; and 
 accordingly took care to utter nothing but the 
 most trivial remarks, and even made them for 
 the most part in a whisper. The Princess Marie 
 and Nariskoff thought that he was an officer of 
 the Household, stationed there on all occasions 
 of reception. Ivan thought he was some se- 
 cretary ; and was confirmed in. that thought by 
 observing that this man stood near a little table 
 on which there were the materials for writing. 
 Ivan concluded that there were certain formalities 
 to be gone through when men of note were re- 
 called from exile ; and that the man in black was 
 the proper officer to record such proceedings. 
 
 True it was, as he said to himself, that there 
 had been nothing of the kind on my first recall, 
 " but then I was so insignificant, and doubtless 
 this ceremony is chiefly for, the Prince." 
 
 Azra, from her familiarity with certain situa- 
 tions on the stage, rightly conjectured who this 
 man was, but did not impart her conjecture to 
 the rest of the company. The meeting between 
 her and Ivan had not been without embarrass- 
 ment — especially on his part ; but, upon the 
 whole, it had not been unfriendly, though some- 
 what constrained and cold. 
 
 On their entrance into the room, and they 
 
422 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 had all arrived about the same time, the usual 
 greetings had taken place. Ivan had inquired 
 after the health of his late fellow-travellers ; and 
 they had courteously expressed, (the Prince with 
 much warmth, the Princess with nothing warmer 
 than courtesy demanded) their great obligations 
 to him for his kind attentions throughout the 
 journey from Pelem to St. Petersburg. There 
 then ensued a considerable period of waiting, 
 which was felt to be very awkward by all the 
 persons present. Evening began to come on, 
 and the large grand room to look somewhat 
 glooniy. 
 
 During this time of waiting, one thought 
 crossed the minds of all the persons present who 
 had known Nariskoff. There was a change in 
 him — something almost indefinable, but yet a 
 very distinct and assured change. It was not 
 that his dress was far less careless than usual, 
 but the manner and the bearing of the man had 
 altered. There was an absence of that reckless- 
 ness and flippancy which had, for many years, 
 been characteristic of him. They did not know 
 what effect a gleam of good fortune is capable of 
 producing on such a mind. Prosperity and ad- • 
 versity make great changes — in the long run, 
 equal changes ; but very different in point of ra- 
 pidity. Adversity gnaws away at the character, 
 altering it gradually, but surely. The Heaven 
 of Prosperity makes most men fit to enter it 
 at once. 
 
 The two persons in the room who were the 
 least embarrassed, were Nariskoff and Aara ; and 
 they talked together occasionally with something 
 like ease and pleasure in their conversation. 
 
 Suddenly there was a rustling noise heard in 
 the corridor; and the Empress Elizabeth en- 
 
THE RECEPTION IN THE PALACE. 423 
 
 tered, preceded by two chamberlains and fol- 
 lowed by Mavra Sohepelof and another lady in 
 waiting. The Empress was magnificently at- 
 tiredj for she had just come from another recep- 
 tion, that of the new Austrian Ambassador. 
 This had made her much later than she intended 
 to have been; and, judging from her counte- 
 nance, the reception had not been a particularly 
 pleasant one. There were subjects of discussion 
 at that time between the two Courts, not by any 
 means of a friendly nature, which had been 
 alluded to in the course of the interview with the 
 Ambassador. 
 
 The Empress had entered the room with even 
 more than her usual rapidity of movement, 
 which, as is well known, always caused great 
 difficulty to those who had to precede and follow 
 her, in managing their pace with proper dignity, 
 and yet with the requisite speed.* 
 
 She bowed slightly in answer to the somewhat 
 elaborate genuflections of the occupants of the 
 room; uttered a few words which were iudis- 
 tinctly heard, mentioning the cause of her de- 
 tention ; and then went at once to the window 
 near which Prince Serbatofif was standing. The 
 Princess Marie, who was by his side, imme- 
 diately withdrew to a short distance. The Em- 
 press remained for a few minutes in earnest con- 
 versation with the Prince. This was carried on 
 in subdued tones ; and the other persons in the 
 room could only discern, from the Prince's looks 
 and gestures, that what the Empress said, caused 
 him, at first, great astonishment, and then 
 apparently great pleasure. 
 
 * Marshal Munnich says : — Pleine de sante et de viva- 
 oitl, elle marohoit d'un pas si leste, que les dames surtout 
 avoient de la peine a la suivre. 
 
424 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Leaving him, the Empress strode to the table 
 near which the man in black was standing. She- 
 then beckoned the Princess Marie and Ivan to 
 come near to her. They obeyed : when at once,, 
 without any further preHminarieSj the Czarina 
 said loudly and distinptly. " My children, We- 
 know your great affection for each other — an. 
 affection long tried, and somewhat sorely tried,, 
 (here she smiled graciously) by faults and mis- 
 takes on each side — the man of course being 
 most in fault. But now these folHes are over, 
 happily over, and We intend to give ourselves the 
 pleasure of -witnessing the ci-vil contract of mar- 
 riage between Baron Ivan de Biron and the 
 Princess Marie Andreevna Serbatoff. You will,, 
 first. Sir," said she, turning to the notary, " state- 
 the consent of his Highness the Duke of Cour- 
 land (thereupon she handed the notary a paper),. 
 Ivan de Biron^s uncle, and that of' Prince Ser- 
 batoff, the Princess Marie's father, to this con- 
 tract. Ourselves and Mavra Schepelof wiU b& 
 the witnesses." 
 
 Despotic sovereigns live sometimes in a 
 strange -world of their own, and may have but 
 little knowledge of the world outside those 
 sacred preciucts. But, then, such sovereigns- 
 have generally been born in the purple and to- 
 the purple, whereas Elizabeth of Russia had 
 passed a large part of her life in comparative 
 freedom from sovereignty, or the hope of so- 
 vereignty. 
 
 This strange and abrupt proceeding, there- 
 fore, of hers was a great astonishment to aU who 
 "were -witnesses of it, or who afterwards heard of 
 it. Every one, cognizant of the circumstances, 
 would have expected that the Empress, having 
 graciously made this marriage an object very 
 
THE EMPRESS AND IVAN. 425, 
 
 dear to her, and having conducted tlie previous- 
 negotiationSj if so they may be called, with 
 much feminine skill and tact, would have 
 adopted' some artistic plan for the conclusion of 
 the affair. It might have been only the common 
 one of making one lover confess his or her love, 
 while the other was concealed to hear the con- 
 fession. Mavra Schepelof had indeed suggested 
 some such plan; but the Czarina had indig- 
 nantly put it aside. The Empress's father Peter 
 the Great, had insisted upon unwilling marriages 
 being made, — so had her aunt, the Empress 
 Anne. It was too ridiculous to suppose that 
 she, the Czarina, could not make one which was 
 ardently desired by both the persons' concerned, 
 as she well knew, " We will have no more of 
 this nonsense, Mavra," she had said : " not even 
 in Marivaux's provoking novels have two lovers 
 gone through more varieties of ill-fortune, before 
 the end of the third volume, than these two 
 children have." 
 
 If the by-standers, and those who afterwards 
 heard the story, were astonished at this strange 
 proceeding so devoid of tact, much more as- 
 tonished were those two persons who were 
 directly interested. And not only astonished, 
 but disgusted. Each thought that this was a 
 plan made without the knowledge of the other, 
 to effect a union which was not acceptable to 
 that other. The pride and generosity of each 
 of them rose indignantly to repel such an un- 
 welcome and enforced conclusion. The Empress, 
 turned from one to the other; and could not 
 fail to see in their countenances the most marked 
 signs of disapproval, and even of determined 
 refusal. 
 
 " Come forward," she said, imperiously, to both 
 
426 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 of them. Ivan did not move ; but the Princess 
 did approach the Empress ; and^ in low ahd 
 faltering accents, implored Her Majesty to desist 
 from her design. The Princess then rose, and 
 retired to the place where she had previously 
 been standing. Ivan then approached, and, 
 tneeling to the Empress, urged a similar re- 
 quest. "Anything but this. Madam," he said. 
 " I am your servant, indebted to you for hfe and 
 liberty and fortune ; but spare rae this humilia- 
 tion." 
 
 The Empress turned from him abruptly, leave- 
 ing him still kneeling. 
 
 The urgent, weighty, resounding wave of 
 despotism, like its prototype, breaks upon the 
 shore, reducing almost all the bodies it meets 
 with to smoothness and roundness; but there 
 are some few natures, as there are some few 
 crystals, of such hardness, that they retaiu some- 
 what of their original angularity even under the 
 constant action of this imperious and almost all- 
 subduing wave. Ivan and the Princess Marie 
 were of this nature; and no peril of despotic 
 wrath could make them behave untruly to them- 
 selves. 
 
 The peril, in sooth, was great. The Empress 
 paced rapidly up and down the long apartment ; 
 and, to NariskofPs imaginative mind, as he 
 afterwards said, she was like a ship of war pass- 
 ing up and down some broad estuary in an 
 enemy's country, and firing terrible missiles on 
 either side. 
 
 The simile was not altogether inappropriate; 
 for, as the Empress paced the room, whenever 
 she approached one of the reluctant persons, she 
 addressed to them some hard, indignant, and 
 fragmentary speech; sometimes in words ap- 
 
RESULT OF THE EMPRESS'S PLANS. 427 
 
 parently irrelevaiit, but wHcli were well under- 
 stood by Ivan and tbe Princess Marie. 
 
 To Ivan, she said, in one of these fiery out- 
 bursts : '' You may well say that the world is a 
 mass of ill-digested foUy : •" and again. " You 
 look as foolishly self-conscious and unhappy as 
 an ill-dressed woman at a feast.'' 
 
 To the Princess Marie, she said: "What 
 has been the use of all your childish comedy 
 — providing, forsooth, another love for him ? 
 Is this sUly play to have no fifth act ? " 
 And again, "You are mad, child; and it is a 
 madness that wiU end in nothing but misery for 
 you." 
 
 Once the Empress stopped suddenly ■ in her 
 impetuous movement ; beckoned Mavra to come 
 to her; and sent her for the captain of the 
 guard. That judicious lady obeyed her im- 
 perious mistress; but took as long a time as she 
 dared to take, in doing so ; and when she re- 
 turned in company with that important and 
 much dreaded officer, he stood at the entrance 
 of the door, but did not receive any orders from 
 Her Majesty. 
 
 By that time the Empress had become aware 
 of the absurdity of the scene. Her outbursts of 
 rage were generally as brief as they were violent ; 
 and her main idea now was to see how she could, 
 with least loss of dignity, put an end to these 
 infructuous proceedings. She made no more 
 indignant comments to Ivan, or to the Princess 
 Marie. She even forced herself to treat the 
 matter jestingly; and smiling said, half gaily, 
 but with a certain bitterness accompanying the 
 forced gaiety, "You may go, you may all go. 
 Our time is too precious to be wasted upon 
 fools." ^ 
 
428 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 They all began to troop off in an embarrassed 
 and dejected manner. No one but the old 
 courtier, Prince Serbatoff, attempted to say 
 another word to her ; and, as he approached to 
 do so, she waved him off, merely saying. "It. 
 seems, Prince, that fihal duty has little influence 
 in your family ! " 
 
 Nariskoff, who had meant to say his say, and 
 would have said it, if he had not in these few 
 days become a much more prudent, if not a 
 wiser man, observing the rebuff given to the 
 Prince, judiciously refrained, and went his way 
 in silence. 
 
 The only person whom the Empress retained 
 for a minute or two, was Azra ; and to her she 
 said with some severity of tone ; " Are you sure- 
 you have not deceived us ? " 
 
 "I am sure, Madam,-*^ was Azra's reply, 
 " more sure than ever, to-day." She also, bow- 
 iag, then withdrew. 
 
 The Empress looked round ; and then signified 
 to her chamberlains, and to aU the others^ with 
 the exception of Mavra Schepelof, that their 
 duties for the day were ended. Putting her arm 
 round Mavra she said in a melancholy tone. 
 " You are very wise, Mavra. I wonder you con- 
 sent to live with such a weak-minded person as 
 I am. The wisdom of wisdom is to understand 
 fools ; and I can see that you can do that far 
 better than I can. You were right. There 
 should have been some pretty ending for this 
 play. We should have taken a lesson from the 
 mimic queen, Azra." 
 
 So saying, she went from the state room to 
 her private apartments, secretly determined 
 never again to meddle with other people's love 
 affairs. 
 
TERMINATION OF THE RECEPTION. 429 
 
 The only further step whick the Empress took, 
 ■was to send a messenger to the Duke of Cour- 
 land at Jaroslaw, informing him of the ill-success 
 of her endeavour to promote the marriage of his 
 nephew with the Princess Marie Andr6evna. 
 
 It would be looking too curiously into a 
 human heart to say, whether the Duke felt more 
 pain, or pleasure, at this announcement. The 
 baser motives have, for a time, great power even 
 over the noblest minds. The Duke had come to 
 a conclusion, in which he was entirely wrong, 
 that the Princess Marie had served and suc- 
 coured him, only from the love which she bore to 
 Ivan — a love first made known to His Highness 
 in his secret interview with the Czarina. The 
 Duke's consent to the marriage, which had been 
 requested by the Empress, in previous corre- 
 spondence with him, had not been given without 
 some pangs of regret. Still he was a wise man, 
 and had by this time learnt to accommodate him- 
 self to what was inevitable. Moreover, he said 
 to himself. " Better with Ivan than with any- 
 body else ; and I can bear it better. He is very 
 loveable. There is a likeness, too, between us 
 which she must have seen." 
 
 So the Duke gave his consent ; but it is to be 
 feared that he bore with great, equanimity the iU- 
 success of the Empress in this matter j and, 
 perhaps, it might not be too much to say, that 
 he felt it was a kind of reprieve, giving him time 
 to reconcile himself to that which he thought 
 must happen sooner or later. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 IVAN's DIAET during his exile EXTRACTS 
 
 THEREFROM. 
 
 The Empress, in the course of her stormy 
 outbreak, on the refusal of the Princess Marie 
 and Ivan to be then and there united in marriage, 
 uttered some words which were not intelligible, 
 to the rest of the company, but were fully under- 
 stood by Ivan de Biron. 
 
 When he was recalled from his second term of 
 exile, his papers were seized by the authorities 
 at Pelem, and transmitted to the Empress for 
 her perusal. In these papers there was much to 
 be found which showed what he had been think- 
 ing of during those dull and melancholy moments 
 which he passed in complete solitude. Exile 
 gave a great opportunity for thinking. Men 
 thought then who had never thought before. 
 Ivan's condition, during this second time of exile, 
 was very favourable to thought. It. has been 
 said that under Elizabeth more indulgence had 
 
IVAN'S DIARY DURING HIS EXILE. 431 
 
 been granted to exiles than had been the case 
 under previous reigns : and, at any rate, Ivan 
 had been freed from those household cares and 
 labours, which either for the Duke his master, or 
 for the Serbatoff family, he had been wont to 
 exercise during his first term of exile . Moreover, 
 the many sufferings and disasters he had under- 
 gone in the interval, had rendered him a much 
 more thoughtful man. Having no one to confide 
 in, for his thoughts were such as he could not 
 entrust to the sarcastic Nariskoff, he was fain to 
 confide them to paper, and he kept a diary. 
 
 This diary had furnished the Empress with a 
 fresh insight into his character. The course of 
 his thinking was manifest. It was very crude : it 
 was very sad : it betrayed the feelings of one 
 who, for the first time, began to think deeply and 
 sorrowfully of his own condition, and of the condi- 
 tion of the world. Some extracts from this diary 
 may serve to enlighten others, as they served to 
 enlighten the Empress respecting the nature of a 
 remarkable man-r-remarkable not so much for 
 force of intellect, as for extreme sincerity and 
 clearness of apprehension. They are as follows. 
 
 " What does it all mean ? What does it all tend 
 to ? If one could discern any purpose, one would 
 be satisfied with all this misery : but the thought 
 will come upon me,. though I try to drive it away 
 — why should it not all have been left alone ? 
 What is the good of creation ? 
 
 " AU men are Hke an army marching through a 
 hideous country, beset with every evil that can 
 expend itself upon them. Their marct is trace- 
 able by the dead bodies they leave upon the route. 
 What do" they march against ? Where is the pos- 
 sible conquest? What, the possible victory? 
 
432 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Hitherto, none has been discovered. We are 
 nearly as barbarous as erer — it may be with a 
 more polished, but a not less cfuel barbarism 
 than that which our ancestors suffered under my 
 ■dread namesake, Ivan the Terrible. The suffer- 
 ing may be a little less : but, on the other hand, 
 the bodies subjected to it are more sensitive 
 from this civilisation, as they call it. , 
 
 " I can see the use of sorrow. Mayhap, it has 
 been serviceable to me : but is there not a great 
 deal more of it than is needful to do the requisite 
 work ? And then the animals ! Why should 
 they suffer ? What can you claim for them in com- 
 pensation for all their sufferings ? The scheme 
 •of the world is cruel, very cruel. 
 
 " I walked far away into this dismal country, 
 yesterday. I came upon the great river before 
 it loses itself in the marshes which make Pelem 
 the fitting abode for exiles even under Elizabeth, 
 sumamed the Clement. There was a mountain 
 stream which flows mto the great river. I as- 
 cended its banks, and came upon a mimic whirl- 
 pool. There was a huge log in it, one of those 
 which are sent down by the hewers of wood upon 
 the mountains. It had not had force enough, 
 given it in its departure, to escape the unceasing 
 action of this mimic whirlpool. Round and round 
 it went ; and every time that it came to the spot 
 at which it ought to have descended, there was 
 a momentary pause; but the whirling current 
 was too strong, and took it round again. It was 
 the life of any individual man. It was my life, 
 infinitely solitary, obeying no impulse of its own, 
 and not the impulse even of those who would 
 more rightly direct it. I watched the thing for 
 
EXTRA CTS FROM IVAN'S DIARY. 433 
 
 hours ; and saw tlie progress — progress ! — of my 
 own most felicitous life. 
 
 " A very ingenious creature, man ! How one 
 might praise him ! how exalt his great qualities 
 — ^his forethought, his force, the myriad modes 
 he has of trying to withstand his enemies, and 
 to conquer his naked and miserable condition- 
 But it is a pity that he expends so large a part of 
 his ingenuity, at least the better half, in tor- 
 menting his feUow-man, and preparing assured 
 misery for himself. 
 
 " My uncle, the great Duke of Courland ! It is 
 a clear night, and I am looking upon these ia- 
 numerable stars. Are they inhabited ? And, if 
 so, is government there anything Hke what it is 
 here ? His Highness seemed to thiak that the 
 art of government was in keeping everybody 
 down — everybody of whom he had the faintest 
 suspicion that that body might presume to enter- 
 tain any views of things on earth, or things in 
 heaven, in the least degree opposed to the per- 
 fect wisdom of His Highness. And yet there 
 was something in what he said. For if there 
 were not Dukes of Courland, they would all be 
 flying at each other's throats ; and perhaps it 
 would have been worse without him than even 
 with him. Who knows ? I wonder what he is 
 doing now ? It must be very miserable to have 
 no one to oppress. But there was much good 
 in him ; and he bore the truth, when it was once 
 told him. How I trembled as I told it ! 
 
 " Nariskofif : what a man ! There might have 
 been a great deal of use made of that man. But 
 nine-tenths of what is useful in mankind is 
 thrown away. The poor fellow thinks that this 
 
 2i 
 
434 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 world was only made for him to sneer at. And 
 I am not much better than he is. He thought 
 that I marked him not when he was striving to 
 protect that black creature from the ants to-day. 
 I saw it all ; but what is the use of endeavouring 
 to interfere with the beneficent course of nature ? 
 I knew that it was a shallow attempt^ as shallow 
 and imfeasible as his wild notion of freeing his 
 serfs, to rescue that black wriggling thing from 
 its tormentors and devourers. I am older than 
 Nariskoff, though he does not know it — older in 
 heart, older in mind, older in misery. 
 
 " They were meant to be a comfort to us, I sup- 
 pose. Are they ? Poor creatures as we men 
 are, we do look a little below the surface, and do 
 look a little beyond the home, and the nursery, 
 and the city, and the court. The Court ! 
 Whereas it is aU surface with them. Bank, 
 wealth, court favour, fine dress, jewels, all the 
 minor decorums, these are their divinities. I do 
 not wonder that Azra loves the stage — ^it is the 
 fitting place for all women — and that the Prin- 
 cess loves the court, only a larger and less ar- 
 tistic stage. What a fool I have been ! I 
 recollect now, and I declare that memory has 
 been a truant to me from that time to this : that 
 she said to me when we were sitting in the wood 
 together, acknowledged lovers — " Are you noble, 
 dear Ivan ? I wish that you were noble." I 
 ought to have seen through her worldliness then : 
 but we men are the veriest fools in creation. 
 The lion understands his lioness far better than 
 a man does the woman that he loves. Oh, but 
 she is lovely. She would delude a saint, or an 
 angel, or even a devil. And what chance had I, 
 a mere honest innocent youth, of understanding 
 
EXTRACTS FROM IVAN'S DIARY. 435 
 
 ^ucli a creature ? Even now^ though I know her 
 well, I dare not watch her as she moves along 
 among other women, not like any of them, but 
 with a grace, a beauty, and a loveliaess that is 
 only her own. Why were such creatures in- 
 vented to deceive us ? But I wiU think no more 
 of her. I wonder what Horace really meant by 
 that passage. (Here Ivan quoted a passage from 
 one of the satires, which has been a diEB.culty to 
 critics from his time to ours, and which was pro- 
 bably written down wrong in. the waxen tablets 
 on which those immortal poems were first en- 
 graved by the poet's stylus.) 
 
 " What an anti-climax, life ! How we are 
 fondled, and dandled, and made much of, just 
 when we cannot understand the fondling, and 
 when it is probably a great nuisance to us. 
 Then, from childhood onwards, we are less and 
 less loved, until, at length, the hking of the 
 meanest serf would be very dear to one — a pre- 
 cious possession ! 
 
 " If death would give one time to think, freed 
 from the necessity of actiag, it might be no 
 great evil. It came into my mind that I should 
 like to have died with her in my arms ia that 
 morass. What folly ! 
 
 " The world is given up to hard and self-suf- 
 ficing people. They alone prosper. Unembar- 
 rassed by the paia they cause, by the ■ feeUngs 
 they trample upon, by the ruins they walk over, 
 on they march complacently to victory. They 
 need not sympathy : they heed not antipathy : 
 they are to themselves their own sufficient au- 
 dience, and require no alien applause. They 
 are the conquerors of the world." 
 
 2f2 
 
436 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 To the other extracts from Ivan's diary, how- 
 ever crude and morbid, no objection has here 
 been made. This one, however, cannot be al- 
 lowed to pass without some comment, for it em- 
 bodies a delusion which is rife even at the pre- 
 sent time. Men are still thought to be sagacious 
 and capable, merely because they are hard. But 
 let the hard man have sufficient scope wherein tO' 
 develope his hardness, and to demonstrate his 
 want of sympathy with other men — and ultimate 
 failure is the result. After all, there are a great 
 many men, women, and children in the world r 
 it is not altogether composed of sticks and stones. 
 
 " When I look back upon my past life (one 
 would think he had lived for 50 years at least)' 
 I perceive that all my errors have proceeded 
 from my imagination. If I had seen things and 
 persons as they really are, I should not have 
 been thus befooled by them. If imagination 
 had been a good gift, it would have been given 
 to more people than it has been given. Those 
 are most miserable who have the most of this 
 dangerous quality. 
 
 " All other wisdom is superfluous for those who 
 are wise enough, and strong enough, to hve 
 alone." 
 
 The exact words used by the Empress, when 
 she was storming up and down the reception- 
 room of the Winter Palace, and upbraiding the 
 recreant lovers with their folly, are not to be 
 found in these extracts. Perhaps the Czarina 
 only gave what she thought to be the substance 
 of some of Ivan's remarks in his diary; or, 
 again, the very words might have occurred in other 
 extracts, though they are not to be found in these. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THE FRIENDSHIP OF NAEISKOFF AND AZEA. 
 
 There was one curious and unexpected 
 result of the reception wHcli the Empress had 
 given for the purpose of uniting Ivan and the 
 Princess, and which had ended so disastrously. 
 Nariskoff and Azra became intimate and affec- 
 tionate friends. 
 
 Nariskoff was wont to say that the principal 
 difference between love and the bite of a mad 
 dog was, " that in the former case the effect of 
 the poison was instantaneous, whilst in the latter 
 it lingered long in the constitution before its fatal 
 outbreak." 
 
 There are many distinctions to be drawn be- 
 tween love and liking; but the rapidity of the effect 
 is similar in both cases. Each of these two new 
 friends had heard a very unsatisfactory character 
 ■of the other. In earlier days, Ivan, when speaking 
 to Azra of his first exile at Pelem, had described 
 Nariskoff to her as a very remarkable man, as. 
 
438 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 indeed, a man of some genius, but, at the same 
 time, as a very discreditable and malicious person'. 
 During Ivan's second term of exile, lie had not 
 spared Azra, when enlarging to NariskofF upon 
 the general faithlessness and worthlessness of 
 women. When these two, Nariskoff and Azra. 
 had met in the grand reception-room at the 
 Palace, each thought that Ivan had spoken most 
 unjustly of the other, and was the more disposed,, 
 on that account, to think favourably of the 
 other. 
 
 It seems, too, as if it was necessary for 
 Nariskoff to attach himself to some one person, 
 and to follow his or her fortunes assiduously. 
 In the present instance it was not destitution 
 which compelled this devotion on his part. The 
 Empress had been true to her word, and had 
 provided employment, of a clerHy nature, in her 
 Chancery for Nariskoff. 
 
 His labours were not so 9,bsorbing, but that he 
 had much spare time ; and all of it was given to 
 attendance upon Azra. With her he became a 
 great authority in all matters relating to her art. 
 Originally a man of fine taste, and of as high a 
 cultivation as was then to be obtained in Russia, 
 he was really able to be of great . service to a 
 prima donna, who, however rich in natural gifts, 
 had undertaken a career, which, to be consum- 
 mately successful, does require large and liberal 
 cultivation. Besides, Azra, still much unskilled 
 in the ways of the world, and very artless in all 
 matters not immediately connected with her own 
 profession, often needed a protector of her 
 interests, and one who should, in some measure, 
 fulfil the part of a father to her. Nariskoff 
 dehghted in doing this. It gave him a certain 
 consequence with other people : it gave him 
 
NARISKOFf AND AZRA. 439 
 
 what he had much needed for many years — 
 self-respect. '*«> 
 
 It is a shrewd remark that has often been 
 , made in the present era of the world : — namely, 
 that those nations are very fehcitous ia which 
 there is an opportunity for sudden and complete 
 change of career. America, for instance, offers 
 this opportunity; and in aU countries where, 
 from similar circumstances, this kind of change 
 is possible and frequent, great benefits to the 
 individual inhabitants of that country will en- 
 sue. 
 
 Nariskoff was able, even at this mature period 
 of his life, to commence, as it were, living afresh : 
 and the man had sufBcient force of mind and 
 purpose to make the most of his new start in 
 life.. 
 
 Some cynical and perverse people have, dis- 
 believed in the possibility of the continuance of 
 profound friendship between persons of different 
 sexes, without its degenerating into love on one 
 side or another. Now, in this case, there was no 
 thought of love on either side. Nariskoff had 
 the good sense to recognise this at once. He 
 knew he possessed few attractions as a lover; 
 but that he could be a very serviceable and 
 affectionate friend. Moreover he knew, and 
 fully appreciated, that fact, which had been, for 
 so long a time, undiscerned by Ivan — that Azra 
 was one of those singular characters, the whole 
 passion of whose lives is thrown into the develop- 
 ment of the work which they think, perhaps too 
 fondly, it is especially given for them to do. It 
 is, perhaps, ha,rdly just to say that this is singular, 
 for there are many more instances of it than are 
 generally recognized. 
 
 Azra, on her part, thoroughly understood and 
 
440 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 appreciated the relation that had grown up 
 between herself and her new friend. If the 
 'truth must be told, she had never liked anybody 
 so much as the old gypsy, the chief of her tribe, 
 who had been kind to her in her childhood ; and 
 she now transferred this , sort of liking to 
 Nariskoff. But it was a liking which, although 
 exceedingly great, would never pass the barrier 
 which separates the most extreme liking from 
 even the faintest love. 
 
 To Nariskoff she could tell all her troubles and 
 her diflScnlties. He was to conciliate, or rule 
 obtuse managers ; to persuade, or terrify recreant 
 actors and actresses into taking and fulfilling the 
 parts which the prima donna had resolved to 
 assign to them. A point in her character, which 
 had been dormant, or unobserved, in the earlier 
 times of her career, now came forward with 
 prominence. She was a little despot. She had 
 been accustomed to witness in the proceedings of 
 her own people, the great advantage of despotism. 
 There, in that tribe, the chief had always been 
 implicitly obeyed; and Azra, like the rest of 
 them, had yielded him this obedience. Now that 
 she was a great personage, she arrogated to her- 
 self similar dominion ; and already in the course 
 of her career, this proneness to demand obedience 
 tp all her whims and wishes, had been productive 
 of much misery to herself, and much discomfort 
 to aU those who had to work with her in their 
 common enterprise. 
 
 There was another circumstance which much 
 endeared Nariskoff to Azra; and which, in aU 
 similar conjunctures, is very potent. It is a very 
 flattering and seductive thing when any person, 
 man or woman, behaves differently to you from 
 what he or she does to the rest of the world. 
 
NARISKOFF AND AZRA. 441 
 
 Hence it is that some of the most disagreeable of 
 human beings are intensely liked, or passionately 
 loved, by some few persons, because those 
 persons are honoured or gratified by a different 
 •course of conduct being shown to them from that 
 ■which is administered to the rest of the world. 
 Nariskoff, a powerful master of sarcasm, whose 
 influence had chiefly rested upon that malign 
 power, never indulged in anything approaching 
 to sarcasm with Azra. 
 
 Several months had elapsed while this friend- 
 ship between Azra and Nariskoff had been 
 maturing. This time had passed in a very 
 painful manner to the other principal personages 
 of this narrative, with the exception of the 
 Empress Elizabeth. After that memorable inter- 
 Tiew from which she had retired with disgust, 
 she had made no effort to reconcile the lovers. 
 They were fools, and as such were not worthy of 
 further thought from her. She was too good- 
 natured to visit their folly upon them by any 
 unkindness on her part. On the contrary; she 
 had thoroughly reinstated Ivan de Biron in her 
 favour as an official person. 
 
 Once or twice, when receiving him upon 
 matters of business, she had not been able to 
 restrain herself from some droll or sarcastic 
 allusion to his folly; but she had gone no 
 further. 
 
 She had made the Princess Marie one of her 
 maids-of-honour j and had, in like manner, more 
 than once playfully made some allusion to the 
 inutility of the presence of notaries when the 
 persons principally concerned did not know their 
 own minds, or had no minds of which any know- 
 ledge could be ascertained. But the Empress 
 was always most kind and gracious to the 
 
442 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Princess Marie; and had even gone so far as to 
 form another project for the welfare of the young 
 lady-j which project had reference to the new 
 Austrian Ambassador. 
 
 It is not to be supposed but that Azra and 
 NariskofF talked frequently to one another of 
 Ivan and the Princess Marie. 
 
 Nariskoff had to a certain extent given up his 
 interest in these two young persons. In fact, he 
 spoke of them much as the Empress thought of 
 them, as two over-refined, fastidious, shallow 
 young people, who did not know their own 
 minds, and would not let any one else, any wiser 
 person, disclose those minds to them, and thus 
 make all things end like a novel, where the 
 lovers, after infinite mystifications and innumer- 
 able deUcacies of conduct, which no one can 
 understand but themselves, at last, at any rate, 
 contrive to come to what, as Nariskoff sneeringly 
 observed, must be supposed to be a happy con- 
 clusion. 
 
 A^ra, on the contrary, fully maintained her 
 interest in the lovers; and was most deeply 
 anxious that some conclusion should be arrived 
 at. She had not changed her feeUngs towards 
 Ivan, such as they had been for the two 
 preceding years; and she loved and vene- 
 rated the Princess as her earliest and best 
 patron. 
 
 One evening, after a performance which had 
 been more than, usually well received by the 
 Russian public at St. Petersburg, Azra and 
 Nariskoff returned to her lodgings, to talk over 
 the events of the evening, and to congratulate 
 one another upon the adoption of some devices, 
 both as regards scenes and scenery, which they 
 had persuaded the manager, not without difficulty,. 
 
NARISKOFF AND AZRA. 443 
 
 to allow tliem to arrange according to their pecu- 
 liar artistic views. 
 
 Much of this had reference to a forthcoming- 
 opera, which had excited great expectations. 
 Before they parted, Azra turned the conversation 
 to the position of their two young friends. She had 
 seen the Princess in the course of the day, and 
 had been more struck than ever with the fading 
 health, depressed spirits and, overclouded beauty, 
 which she had noticed in her friend, and which 
 she justly attributed to the unhappy state of the 
 Princess's mind. 
 
 The result of this conversation, in the influence 
 it had upon the fertile brain of Nariskofi", will be 
 seen in the ensuing chapter. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE PBINCESS MAEIE ' AND IVAN ATTEND A EEHEAE- 
 
 SAL AT THE OPEEA BUT ARE NOT VEET USEFUL 
 
 AS CEITICS. 
 
 ''Let us have them here at a rehearsal; 
 leave them alone ; and see what will happen." 
 
 These were the words of Nariskoff, suddenly 
 uttered to Azra one morning when they were 
 walking about the stage, and preparing for the 
 new opera. They had together inspected the work 
 of the scene painter; had, held several confer- 
 ences with the manager; had instructed the 
 carpenters ; and had assisted at a rehearsal of the 
 ballet. This last piece of stage-business was one 
 in which Azra took an interest generally un- 
 known to persons of her high theatrical rank. 
 She, herself, had been a most consummate 
 dancer; looked upon dancing as a fine art; and 
 often wished that she could descend, occasionally, 
 from her high position, and be a leader in the 
 ballet, as well as a great tragic actress. 
 
NAUISKOFF'S NEW DEVICE. 445 
 
 Azra was not iit the best humour, being' 
 dissatisfied with the performance she had just 
 witnessed; and she replied to Nariskofif rather 
 pettishly, but still with somewhat of her usual 
 deference. "My Uttle father, I doubt whether 
 real love has ever been made in this region of the 
 theatre — certainly not by the great lords who 
 are permitted, contrary to my express desire, to 
 come behind the scenes; and certainly not by 
 the actors and actresses on the stage, at least 
 according to my poor experience." 
 
 "You see, my dear Azra," said Nariskoff, 
 "Ivan and the Princess are what are called 
 'original people.' These, according to my 
 thinking, are among the greatest fools in ex- 
 istence. They will insist upon making for them- 
 selves the grooves to run in, instead of using the 
 well-worn grooves that have been formed by 
 their countless predecessors. The best energies 
 of their early lives are wasted in fashioning' these 
 new grooves; and when they have made them, 
 if they ever do make them, their own courses, 
 still quite original no doubt, generally lead to the 
 inane kingdom of Nowhere. I was myself an 
 original ; and see to what it has brought me. I 
 must, forsooth, have notions about our serfs, three 
 or four centuries at least too early. Not that I 
 repent of that, for otherwise should I have known 
 you? Ton, too, are an original; but we are 
 both of a higher order than these young persons, 
 who are, properly speaking, common-place people, 
 but do not seem to know it." 
 
 "Youiig people!" exclaimed Azra. "If this 
 goes on much longer, they will both be middle- 
 aged people. As for poor Ivan, he is beginnings 
 to be grey. I think, though, that he is hand- 
 somer than ever." 
 
446 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Nariskoff was not very fond of hearing Ivan's 
 good looks praised by Azra. He repHed, "It 
 certaioly is a great merit in you women that you 
 do not miiid the bloom being taken off the peach, 
 especially when you have had some hand in 
 removing it. I am afraid that we men are not 
 quite so indifferent to the loss of youthful looks 
 in the women whom we love. Much depends 
 upon the cause, dear Azra. Now when I was a 
 young man, I soon lost the bloom of youth ; but 
 it was from thought, deep thought, and over- 
 anxious study." 
 
 "Let us not talk of ourselves, my Httle 
 father; but what we can do for them," replied 
 Azra. 
 
 The only thing which was still repugnant to 
 Ajsra in her new friend, was his inordinate vanity. 
 It shocked her simple, honest nature ; and she 
 always sought to discourage it. 
 
 She added. "I cannot say that this is 
 ■exactly the spot I should have chosen as 
 the fitting place for the reconcilement of two 
 lovers. It seems to me that it would dis- ' 
 courage aU sentiment, and show the unreality 
 of passion." 
 
 "Now you, dear Azra," replied Nariskoff, 
 "are becoming commonplace. The semi-dark- 
 ness, the singularity of the position, the strange 
 loneliness, and I will take care that they shall be 
 alone, may have a contrary effect to that which 
 was to be found in the great reception-room of 
 the Winter Palace. At any rate, let us try 
 another extreme." 
 
 "They have often enough been alone together," 
 said Aara. 
 
 "Oh yes," replied Nariskoff. "They were 
 sufficiently alone together during their last 
 
NARISKOFF'S NEW DEVICE. 447 
 
 7)leasant trip from Pelem to St. Petersburg. I 
 heard a good deal about it from Ivan himself. 
 Have you ever seen two girls sitting at a spinet, 
 who thoroughly disKked each other? Girls 
 sometimes dislike one another, you know. Well 
 there they are, obliged to sit very close together, 
 their little hands sometimes crossing one another ; 
 and all the harmony they succeed in bringing 
 out from that tiresome, rattling, jingling instru- 
 ment, fails to produce any harmony for their two 
 discordant selves. They get up disliking one 
 another still more if possible than ever. 
 
 "The company know nothing of this, any 
 more than the poor Prince did, when his ' dear 
 Ivan' — as he always calls him now — and his 
 beloved Marie were supporting him in the 
 telega." 
 
 "You are not very encouraging, Nariskoff," 
 said Azra ; " and you really seem to have taken 
 a dislike to both of them." 
 
 " No : I don't dislike them. The philosophic 
 mind is incapable of dislike." 
 
 " But mark you, I propose this plan only to 
 please you, for I must confess they have almost 
 ceased to be of any iaterest to me. As I have 
 often said, I hate fools — people who do not know 
 their own minds, and cannot see into other 
 minds when they are as open as the day. Now 
 I never — " 
 
 Azra, fearing a fresh outburst of egotism, 
 interrupted his speech, and signified her assent 
 to the plan. 
 
 It was easily carried into efiect. Azra had 
 only to ask the Princess to attend a rehearsal, to 
 which Marie readily assented, on the supposition 
 that she was to be a useful critic of the musical 
 part of the performance; while Nariskoff had 
 
448 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 only to tell Ivan tliat his judgment was much 
 wanted as regards the effect of the scenery, in 
 which Paris, a city well known to Ivan, was to 
 be represented, 
 
 Azra, in her simplicity, had sought to make 
 it what is called " a dress rehearsal ;" but this 
 the wiser Nariskoff imperatively put aside. He 
 relied mainly upon the touching nature of the 
 love scenes, which Azra and a new tenor, of very 
 high qualifications, were to enact ; and a dress 
 rehearsal would only be a hindrance to his 
 scheme. 
 
 The appointed day came. The Princess Marie 
 and Ivan, each ignorant of the other being 
 invited, arrived in due time at the theatre. 
 
 However much any one may be prepared for 
 what he, or she, may see behind the scenes and 
 at a rehearsal, the reality is nearly sure to out- 
 strip the imagination. In those days, too, there 
 was not that multiplicity of publication which, 
 informing everybody of every obscure detail in 
 the world, deprives almost every new and strange 
 scene of much of its newness and its strangeness. 
 To use a current commercial phrase, which is a 
 very apt and significant one, all sight-seeing now 
 is, to a certain extent, discounted by previous 
 description. 
 
 The Princess was absolutely startled when, 
 entering at the stage door, she was conducted by 
 Azra into the penetralia of the theatre. The 
 gaunt appearance of everything, the splotchy 
 aspect of the painted scenery, the vastness of the 
 space, the carpenters knocking and hammering 
 up in the flies, the grim effect of the cordage 
 and the mechanical contrivances — appalled her ; 
 and, for the moment, she drew back irreso- 
 lutely. Aara took her hand, and led her to a 
 
JVAN AND MARIE AT A REHEARSAL. 449 
 
 chair in front of the stage, just inside the foot- 
 lights. 
 
 Ivan arrived a few minutes afterwards. He, 
 •of course, was not surprised by what he saw. 
 He had been many times behiud the scenes, 
 during his courtship of Azra. Nariskoff seemed 
 to have forgotten this fact, which might prove a 
 drawbaick upon the success of his scheme. But 
 Ivan's present revisiting of this part of the 
 theatre, only served to recall very bitter memo- 
 ries to him. His past folly came vividly before 
 his mind ; and it was with a sense of humiliation 
 that he accompanied Nariskoff, who had waited 
 for him, to a seat in front of the stage. He was 
 not a little surprised when he found the Princess 
 Marie sitting near him. 
 
 Nariskoff took a chair between the two ; and, 
 -after their first courteous and respectful greeting 
 to one another, he prevented all further conver- 
 sation between them, by a long and continuous 
 explanation of the principal situations in the 
 opera of which they were to witness the re- 
 hearsal. I 
 
 It commenced ; and still Nariskoff allowed no 
 opportunity of conversation between Ivan and 
 the Princess during the first and second acts. 
 In the middle of the third he left them, saying 
 that " the confounded carpenters would be sure to 
 go wrong without his supervision." " Ton must 
 know, my dear Ivan, our manager is almost a 
 simpleton in these matters. He holds his place, 
 as a good many of you great men hold yours — 
 by the divine right of incapacity to fill it. I do 
 not know what would happen if I were not to 
 come to his aid. Look at his low forehead. 
 There can be no sense in such a man. Besides 
 he doesn't know a word of French; and that 
 
 2a 
 
4SO IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 Kttle creature there, Mons. Duval, who has been 
 fretting. and fuming like an iiicipient volcano for 
 the last half hour, is a fellow we have got from 
 Paris, who supposes he is the only man who 
 can put this tlung upon the stage." 
 
 Both the Princess and Ivan felt the full 
 awkwardness of their position ; but, as well-bred 
 persons, resolved to carry it through discreetly. 
 They were secretly enraged with Azra and 
 Nariskoff for bringing them thus together. 
 They did not, however, discern any plot. Azra's 
 devotion to the stage, and Nariskoff" s devotion to 
 her, were well known to them ; and they merely 
 thought what an instance of stupidity it was- to 
 have chosen the same day for the presence 
 of both of them as critics. 
 
 They interchanged common-place remarks. 
 The Princess said, " How well Azra was looking ; 
 the fatigue of her career did not seem to tell 
 upon her.'' Ivan muttered something in reply 
 about paint being judiciously employed by 
 women, at which cross speech the Princess only 
 smiled. 
 
 Ivan then said; "'Who would have thought 
 that our friend Nariskoff would have turned out 
 to be the arch-manager of theatres ? And he has 
 lately become so amiable too. I suppose that all 
 his sarcasms are kept for managers, actors, and 
 actresses, as he lets the rest of the world go on 
 in peace. By the way. Princess, have you 
 read any of this Marivaux's works ? " The 
 words of the opera were MariVaux's : the music 
 Eameau's. 
 
 The Princess had hardly time to answer in the 
 negative, before Azra and the principal tenor 
 came to the front of the stage. Hitherto, in this 
 act, there had only been some choral songs. 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 451 
 
 during wliicli talking might be allowed to the 
 spectators. Now there was dead silence. 
 
 Nariskoff, not quite so wise as he supposed 
 himself to be, had intended this to be a most 
 touching scene, capable of evoking love in all 
 human breasts. The good man, himself, had 
 always been much affected by it ; but then he 
 had become used to the sorry surroundings which 
 are inevitable in such a rehearsal. With the 
 Princess Marie and Ivan the effect was different ; 
 and it seemed as if this, like all schemes for the 
 same purpose, was to produce quite a contrary 
 effect to that which had been desired or expected. 
 With them the shrewd saying had been verified. 
 " Out of the antidote comes in the long run a 
 poison,"* only that, in their case, the process had 
 been swift, and all the antidotes, which the 
 Empress, or Azra, or Nariskoff had administered,, 
 had only served to produce at once fresh 
 alienation. 
 
 It was a very cold day, cold even for Russia at 
 that time of the year ; and the new tenor was 
 furred up to the throat. Azra was in a very 
 warm and homely dress. They both sang 
 admirably; but their gestures of affection only 
 indicated, not developed or consummated (for 
 Azra, with her usual feelings in such cases, did 
 not much like the tenor; and he was mortally 
 afraid of her) had something inexpressibly ludi- 
 crous about them. Air-drawn embraces, kisses 
 that are indeed but given to the winds, and arms 
 encircling only fancied waists — are not exactly 
 the most fitting means to bring to mind and 
 reinforce the suppressed paSsion> of mutual and 
 devoted love. 
 
 * Aus dem Gegengift wird in die Lange ein Gift. — Jean 
 Paul Eichter. 
 
 2g2 
 
452 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 The Princess had a keen sense of the lu- 
 dicrous ; and Ivan was not deyoid of that peri- 
 lous possession. Each could perceive that the 
 other was with difficulty restrainipig laughter. 
 Each saw that the book of the opera, with which 
 Nariskoff had furnished them, was held with an 
 unsteady hand. 
 
 Ivan spoke first. There was just a little 
 bitterness in his feelings towards Azra. No 
 man, however much he may have conquered his 
 love for a woman, is entirely pleased at her 
 having conquered her love, if she ever had any, 
 for him. 
 
 " Our excellent Azra," he said, " how well she 
 sings ! But she is very like one of the car- 
 penters we can still see in those upper regions, 
 Princess, awaiting the return of the chorus to 
 recommence his hammering.''^ 
 
 "I fail, Sir, to see the resemblance," 
 responded the Princess ; " but no doubt 
 there is some deep meaning in your observa- 
 tion." 
 
 "I only mean," rejoined Ivan, " that she is as 
 free from the fuU tenderness and passion of the 
 scene as that carpenter. They both only care 
 for their own work, and hammer away at it 
 nobly." 
 
 " But her 'work,' Baron, a,s you are pleased to 
 call it, consists in the passion of the scene, and 
 that she does admirably." 
 
 " Then, Princess, why were you so inclined to 
 laugh ? ' Does it admirably ' — ^yes the scenic 
 foretaste of 9, scenic representation — a double 
 fiction ! Oh ! no doubt she ' does it admirably.' 
 But he, the poor tenor, really feels it, or some- 
 thing like it. We men are a little more heartful 
 and truthful, even on the stage." 
 
IVAN AND THE PRINCESS MARIE. 453 
 
 " And we women, Sir, off it." 
 Notwithstanding tMs somewhat sharp en- 
 counter of wit, in which a great deal more was 
 meant than was said, there was something in the 
 tone of voice, and in the look of the Princess as 
 their eyes met, which induced Ivan to get up 
 from his place, and take the chair left vacant by 
 the crafty Nariskoffj a movement which was 
 tacitly acquiesced in by the lady, although she 
 ■slightly drew back from the position, (that of 
 leaning towards him) which she had occupied 
 during the utterance of the foregoing sen- 
 tences. 
 
 There was, then, silence between them for the 
 next two or three minutes, while the prima 
 donna and the first tenor, who had hitherto sung 
 in solo, joined in a final duet of much fervour 
 and fondness, that is as far as the singing was 
 concerned. Then the chorus of inappropriately 
 dressed peasants, for they were in theu- every- 
 ,day clothes, came forward to express their joy 
 at these proceedings of the principal performers ; 
 and the distant hammering re-commenced. 
 
 Again, there was a subject of much mirth for 
 the two spectators. The principal peasant, to 
 whom the tenor confided his many sorrows 
 throughout the opera, was a man gifted with a 
 highly comic cast of features. In fact he was 
 one of the chief actors in low comedy; and, in 
 that capacity, was well known to aU the fre- 
 quenters of the theatre at St. Petersburg. He 
 happened to be an excellent musician, and a 
 severe leader of a chorus ; and, though Azra and 
 Nariskoff had felt the greatest doubts about en- 
 trusting this part to hun, they had not been able 
 to find any one at St. Petersburg who, to use 
 Ivan's phrase, could do the work so well. They, 
 
454 IVAN DE BJRON. 
 
 too, had been very sensitive as to the effect that 
 might be produced by this man's comicality; 
 and Nariskoff had wasted hours in endeavouring 
 to make him change his usual expression of 
 feature and his habitual droUness of gesture, for 
 expressions and gestures more suitable to the 
 character of a confidant of that much-enduring 
 first tenor. This effort had only produced some- 
 thing still more ludicrous. 
 
 Nothing creates more sympathy and more 
 harmony among people than a similar apprecia- 
 tion of what is ludicrous. Bitter enemies have 
 sometimes forgotten their enmity, even in the 
 midst of fierce debate, when something has 
 occurred which excited equally the risible ten- 
 dencies of both of them. And here were two 
 human beings who, without any outward and 
 accidental provocation, were, though they would 
 not recognize it, in the deepest and most abiding 
 sympathy with each other. They were both 
 eminently polite and highly-bred personages. 
 Ivan had now much more of the sustained 
 manners of the man of the world than had 
 been the case in the earlier days of their 
 acquaintance. 
 
 They strove hard to maintain the proper 
 gravity of countenance; and aU the harder, 
 because they felt that the great comic actor 
 played at them, his only audience. Still they 
 could not restrain themselves from occasional 
 comments in whispers, in which, somewhat to 
 the astonishment of both of them, insensibly the 
 words "Ivan" and "Marie" glided into the 
 conversation. 
 
 Once, too, Ivan touched the Princess lightly, 
 wishing to draw her attention to the upper 
 regions, where two of the carpenters had sus- 
 
A SCENE, NOT UPON THE STAGE. 4SS 
 
 pended their work ; and, laughing boisterously, 
 were regarding their favourite actor, the only one 
 they cared to listen to. 
 
 It was the touch that is like no other — ^the 
 touch of the one who loves us best, and whom 
 we love best. 
 
 And so the play went on. Prom what was 
 mirthful, Ivan, grown more daring, and thinking 
 that this might, be the last chance he should 
 ever have of ascertaining what he most desired 
 to know, deviated in his talk to what was more 
 serious, though still entirely bearing upon the 
 scenes enacted before them. He even ventured 
 to say " These happy peasants on the stage, 
 Marie, are not quite so happy, I fear, when they 
 get home through the melting snow, as some 
 real peasants, or what for the time were little 
 other than peasants, whom I have known ; but 
 then," he added with a sigh, " those peasants I 
 speak of,- were at some distance from St. Peters- 
 burg." 
 
 The Princess paused before she made any 
 Teply to this pointed speech. She knew that it 
 was the critical moment of her hfe. She Ute- 
 raUy trembled as she thought of this. It was in 
 vain that the comic actor, who had again come 
 forward on the stage, and in the most highly 
 tragic-comic manner, was declaring in a loud 
 ' aside ' to the audience, that, in his opinion, " all 
 would yet be right, however badly things might 
 look just now : " — and, while so saying, the 
 good man was never more comical both in his 
 countenance and in his gestures. The Princess 
 was not consoled by his promise of future joy to 
 the actors on the stage, or moved to laughter by 
 the drollness of the manner in which these pleas- 
 ing assurances were given. Still looking fixedly 
 
4S6 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 at the actor, she felt in the background of her 
 mind (and the mind is surely double !), how 
 ludicrous all this was upon the stage, and withal 
 how serious the present moment was for the un- 
 employed actors sitting near the footlights. 
 
 At length, after what seemed to her an inter-^ 
 minable time, though it had only occupied a few 
 brief moments, she replied with a firmness of 
 tone that astonished herself. "There is one 
 peasant, Ivan, a girl whom I once knew, who 
 has been far more unhappy at St. Petersburg 
 than she ever was, even in the earliest times of 
 her peasant Hfe, when farthest from St. Peters- 
 burg." 
 
 The thrill of delight with which Ivan heard 
 these significant words may be imagined. He 
 was, however, very judicious, and did not pre- 
 sume immediately upon them, or indeed venture 
 to make any reply. This reticence on his part, 
 though prudent, was very painfdl to the Prin-- 
 cess ; and she felt a kind of remorse — the 
 remorse that pride feels on having made an 
 acknowledgment which it has reason to be- 
 lieve has met with no response from the other 
 side. 
 
 Little else passed between them during the 
 rest of the rehearsal; and, when it was over, 
 they still remained in their seats. They saw 
 Azra and her ardent but subdued tenor separate 
 with a slight bow, he choosing the left wing,. 
 and she the right, as their points of exit from.- 
 the stage. They saw the poor peasants slouch, 
 away in a manner very little corresponding with 
 the joy they had recently expressed on the 
 stage, at the happy conclusion of the opera. 
 They saw the performers in the baUet take their 
 departure — the stage-friendliness still to be seen 
 
A SCENE, NOT UPON THE STAGE. 457- 
 
 among some of the girls, who, with clasped, 
 hands, executed a final pirouette as they made 
 their exit. They saw Monsieur Duval and the- 
 manager move off together, the emphatic French- 
 man gesticulating, and apparently protesting 
 against somebody or something, to the last. 
 
 And then they were indeed alone, and were,, 
 for a few minutes, silent. At length, according 
 to the formal courtesy of those days, he offered 
 her his hand, and proposed that they should 
 make together a further survey of these strange 
 desert regions. He had, he said, before, learnt 
 something about them. 
 
 This was not a very judicious remark ; and 
 Ivan fancied he felt a slight withdrawal of her 
 hand from his. He bit his lips, and inwardly 
 cursed his foUy, knowing that she must think 
 that it was during his pursuit of Azra, that he 
 had become so familiar with the ways behind the- 
 stage. 
 
 Meanwhile, the cunning Nariskoff had been 
 peeping at them through an aperture in one of 
 the scenes, and had been delighted to observe 
 that Ivan had taken his chair, and that, too, at a 
 time when Nariskoff supposed that the situation 
 on the stage had been most touching and effec- 
 tive. 
 
 Little he dreamt, though the discovery would 
 not have been displeasing to his satirical nature, 
 that it was the ludicrous and not the serious 
 feature of the rehearsal that had brought about 
 this proximity. 
 
 At the end of the rehearsal, he had rushed 
 into the green-room to tell Azra the apparent 
 success of his scheme, as he called it, and to 
 warn her to abjure all civility, and to keep her- 
 self away from the "idiots." " Let them wander 
 
458 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 about and lose themselves : ttey wiU perhaps 
 find a little common sense while they are thus 
 lost. Oh ! you must have moved their hearts, 
 Azra. I never heard you greater. It would 
 have re-melted two hardened bits of lava, to 
 have heard you in that third act. I don't deny 
 that my tears were very near my eyes, ajid they 
 are generally a very long way off, I can tell you, 
 my dear." 
 
 And Marie and Ivan did lose themselves ; 
 for they wandered about aimlessly, the last 
 thought, or wish, of either being to find an exit 
 from that bewildering place. Little need is 
 there of words when two human creatures, who 
 are beyond all measure fond of one another, are 
 wandering about hand-in-hand, saying next to 
 nothing to one another but the utmost trivialities 
 in open speech, ,yet telling everything to one 
 another by that low, murmuring tone of fond- 
 ness well known to lovers, and perhaps, too, 
 by that indescribable gladness of approach which 
 the lightest touch, or the faintest pressure, wiQ 
 •abundantly disclose. 
 
 It is somewhat of a hard case for the man, 
 but it is imperatively requisite for him, on such 
 occasions, to say something which shall no 
 longer be dubious, and which shall bring matters 
 to a definite conclusion, one way or the other. 
 Considering all that had passed between these 
 two, it was not surprising that Ivan still hesi- 
 tated to say the final words which were needful. 
 Indeed one wonders how any thoughtful person, 
 cognizant as he must be of his many failings 
 and of the largeness of the enterprise he is 
 about to undertake, can summon up the audacity 
 to say, in the spirit, if not in the words, of 
 the old song " Oh, come with me, and be my 
 love." 
 
RECONCILIATION. 459 
 
 Ivan made this great venture thus : — " The 
 Empress is a very wise woman, Marie, and a 
 very good woman, is she not ? " 
 
 The Princess Marie hesitated a little to assent 
 to the latter part of the proposition; but, with 
 feminine tact, replied : — " She is everything, 
 Ivan, that is most kind, and most gracious ; and 
 she makes my father so happy by her goodness 
 to me ; but — " 
 
 Ivan hurriedly interposed : — '' But of her wis- 
 dom there is no doubt, Marie ; and never was 
 she more wise than when she said, 'We were 
 two fools, and did not know our own minds.' 
 I wonder she did not order us to be beheaded 
 then and there, only that she has an unac- 
 countable objection to depriving herself of 
 any of her loving subjects, in this summary 
 fashion. But she was wise then, Marie ? — Say 
 yes." 
 
 The Princess withdrew her hand from his, 
 and retired a step or two from him. Then, 
 looking up at him timidly and shyly, she merely 
 said : — " I think she was." 
 
 Ivan drew her towards him, held her in his 
 arms, and kissed her. The girl, instinctively, 
 looked around and above her; and reproach- 
 fully said " Oh ! Ivan ;" for, on looking upwards, 
 she had caught sight of the two carpenters to 
 whom her attention had been drawn by Ivan 
 during the rehearsal, and who were now regard- 
 ing with high glee this additional scene which 
 had not exactly been intended for their observa- 
 tion. Ivan's eyes followed hers ; but he was not 
 so easily disconcerted. 
 
 "They may have seen from those heights 
 some scene of this kind, my love, before now ; 
 but they have never seen one ia which there 
 has been such truth." 
 
46o IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 " And sucli fidelity ! " replied the Princess^ 
 witli an arch smile, and in a tone not entirely 
 devoid of sarcasm. 
 
 " Oh ! Marie ! What have you not to for- 
 give ? " 
 
 " And what have you not to forgive ? " 
 replied the Princess ; " but I may offer the usual 
 excuse of fools for their foUy, ' I did it for thd 
 best/ " 
 
 They said no more then ; but resumed their wan- 
 derings ; and we wUl not describe what happened 
 when they were out of sight of the spies from 
 the heights, and when they were assured that 
 they were indeed alone. There were many fond, 
 explanations to be made ; and much to be told 
 wMch had, hitherto, been obscure and perplexing- 
 to both of them. At length they were inter- 
 rupted by the presence of Azra and Nariskoff,- 
 who now thought that the lovers had been 
 alone together for a sufficiently long time ; and 
 that, as there was no further pretext for then- 
 own absence, they must come forward to conduct 
 their visitors from the theatre. 
 
 The outspoken Azra, at once assured of what 
 had happened, for the way in which acknow- 
 ledged lovers walk together is like that of no 
 other companions, was ready with congratula- 
 tions ; but these Nariskoff repressed with a frown,, 
 and merely hoped that the opera had met with' 
 their approval, and that they would favour him> 
 and Azra with their criticisms. 
 
 The Princess and Ivan, however, were not in a 
 critical mood, and they could only say that the 
 acting, singing, and scenery, were, all, perfection.. 
 Nariskoff accompanied them to their sledges; 
 and, after he had closed the door upon them, 
 executed a dance of delightj which sent Azra- 
 
A HAPPY CONCLUSION. 461 
 
 into fits of laughter, and which, she said, showed 
 his superiority to the ' Dim, de la danse,' the all- 
 renowned Vestris, the delight of the Court of 
 Louis the Fifteenth. 
 
 " My Azra, " he exclaimed, " our Empress is 
 a well-meaning woman and not devoid of intel- 
 ligence ; but when you come to real wit and real 
 knowledge of mankind — and womankind too — 
 I know some one who is greatly Her Majesty's 
 superior. And some one else's t6o. This was 
 not the place, these were not the surround- 
 ings, for the reconcilement of two lovers ? You 
 are a good girl, Azra, and not without some 
 insight into things ; but mascuUne wit stiU re- 
 tains its supremacy. " 
 
 Azra was too much delighted to contend the 
 point; and Nariskoff hastened to convey the 
 good news to the Empress Elizabeth. He did 
 not do so, without letting Her Majesty be made 
 thoroughly well aware how superior her poor 
 servant was to any sovereign, in the management 
 of love affairs. 
 
 The good-natured woman took all this boastfal- 
 ness very pleasantly ; praised Nariskoff warmly for 
 his great sagacity ; and ended by declaring that 
 she would have the whole scene repeated over 
 again, which, at the Palace, had previously been 
 such a failure. It touched her honour, she said, 
 that this should be done. And done it was, to 
 the great joy, and amidst the welcome merri- 
 ment, of all those who were interested in the 
 event, and who had been witnesses of the for- 
 mer failure. The marriage was celebrated in 
 the Winter Palace with all Imperial pomp and 
 ceremony; — ^this part of the proceedings, how- 
 ever, hot being much to the taste of either Marie 
 or Ivan. But they were too happy to make any 
 demur to the gracious wishes of their sovereign. 
 
462 IVANDE BIRON. 
 
 Not the least delighted of the bystanders was 
 the old Prince Serbatoff. He had now secured 
 a son-in-law whom he loved^ and upon whom his 
 accumulated wealth of worldly wisdom would 
 never be wasted. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 A SUMMING-UP 01" THE fATE AND FORTUNES OP 
 THE PRINCIPAL PERSONAGES IN THE NARRATIVE. 
 
 Even living Imman beings are for the 
 most part hardly more than phantoms to one 
 another : so little does man know about his feUow- 
 men. An eloquent French writer has said: — 
 Sous cette enveloppe epmsse d/u corps, vous res- 
 • semblez a wn, voyagev/r qui, la nuit, dams sa tente, 
 voit, ou oroU voir, des fomtomes passer.* 
 
 The beings we meet in books may be considered 
 phantoms of the second order, still more phan- 
 tasmal than those whom we encounter in real life. 
 Yet some of the former seem to us to be very real ; 
 and this is especially the case when, as in this 
 work, personages are brought before uSj who did 
 at some time or other really exist, and respecting 
 whom we have, at least, the impressions which 
 those personages have produced upon another 
 mind. 
 
 * Lamennais. ' Paroles d'un Croyant.' 
 
464 IVAN BE BIRON. 
 
 Sucli considerations may form an excuse for 
 narrating briefly the events which happened to 
 the principal personages of this story. 
 
 Love is not the only great thing in the world, 
 and lovers are not the only interesting beings. 
 And though his love may be the one "bright 
 particular star" in a man's life, yet in the 
 course of that life, it is perhaps of more im- 
 portance, at any rate as regards his labours 
 ■and his fortunes, whether he is liked than whether 
 he is loved. For ever, even in times when men 
 pretend to be most considerate and just, that 
 proverb holds good, which proclaims the immense 
 advantage of possessing those qualities which 
 make men Uked — which make them favourites 
 with their own immediate circle and with the 
 world — namely, that one man may leap the hedge 
 which another man may not look over. 
 
 Ivan de Biron did, in an eminent degree, possess 
 those qualities which make a man acceptable to 
 all those with whom he is brought in contact ; 
 and accordingly, he rose, as might be expected, to 
 high dignities and offices in the State. 
 
 Was he happy in domestic life ? — a question 
 we are always anxious to have answered about 
 any remarkable man. It may be answered that 
 he was. Not that it must be supposed that the 
 somewhat difficult and perverse temper of the 
 Princess was immediately rendered smooth and 
 easy by marriage. But the patient and enduring 
 nature of Ivan prevailed ; and he was always ten- 
 der towards her, ever recoUeoting what she had 
 undergone for his sake. Sometimes, it is true, 
 there threatened to be serious differences between 
 this couple, not altogether well matched; and 
 this was when the Princess's eager, impulsive 
 nature drove her into injustice— a thing which 
 Ivan could never tolerate. 
 
IVAN'S HAPPINESS IN MARRIAGE. 465 
 
 The only person to whom the Princess ever 
 confided any domestic trouble, was her good 
 mistress, the Empress Elizabeth. From her the 
 Princess always received the best advice. By 
 reason of that delicate perception of character 
 with which the Czarina wg,s blessed, she under- 
 stood Ivan even better than his own wife did. 
 " My dear," she would say, " in almost all things, 
 we are not only much better, but. much wiser, than 
 the men ; but iu one respect they are our 
 superiors. They are far more just than we are. 
 You may manage your Ivan, and have your own 
 way completely (for, my dear, you do love to 
 have your own way), except in some matter 
 where justice, or what he thinks to be justice, is 
 concerned." 
 
 The Princess was wise enough to profit by this 
 advice ; and so Ivan and his wife did ultimately 
 live very happily together, the happiness in- 
 creasing as the years went on. 
 
 Azra's renown grew greater, year by year ; and 
 she became one of the most distinguished ac- 
 tresses of her time. She was true to her resolve 
 to make every feeling subservient to her art. 
 Hers was not a long career, for she died, at that 
 age so fatal to genius, thirty-seven, of a disease 
 which, though not known at that time by that 
 name, seems to have been diphtheria. 
 
 Nariskoff, who, giving up his situation in the 
 Imperial household, had devoted himself en- 
 tirely to watching over the interests and the wel- 
 fare of Azra, who had accompanied her to the 
 principal capitals of Europe, and who had ten- 
 derly nursed her in her last illness, did not sur- 
 vive her long. 
 
 In fact his death followed hers in the short 
 space of five months. It was a remarkable end- 
 
 2h 
 
466 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 ing of the life of a man who had, for the greater 
 part of his mature years, loved nobody very 
 much, and had been devoted to nothing but 
 cynicism and sarcasm. It cannot be said that he 
 died of a broken heart; but it may be truly 
 affirmed that he died of an unemployed heart, of 
 a heart that felt it had nothing more to do in this 
 world, and so declined to go on with needless 
 pulsations — a disease not catalogued in medical 
 books, but much more frequent, perhaps, than 
 the world is wont to imagine. 
 
 The fortunes of Kalynch must not be omitted. 
 He passed his days in Ivan's family ; and was, 
 for the most part, a contented and a happy 
 man. How can, indeed, a man be otherwise 
 than happy, who has established a theory in 
 his own mind which explains the course of human 
 events — to other minds appearing so lawless and 
 irregular ? 
 
 Besides, Kalynch's theory was not merely ex- 
 planatory, but deeply instructive, as it enabled 
 him to judge rightly of all human affairs. What, 
 to other people, might seem a misfortune, he 
 knew to be a benefit; and what appeared to 
 them a joy, he knew to be a calamity. 
 
 Ivan and Marie had two children. The first 
 was a girl, the second a boy. The birth of the 
 girl had come at a time when, according to the 
 Kalynch law, a joy was to be expected ; and, ac- 
 cordingly, Kalynch's countenance was as joyful 
 as that of any other member of the household. 
 When the boy was bom, it was the time, accord- 
 ing to that severe law, when a calamity should 
 happen. Kalynch's countenance was the only 
 one that wore gloom upon that occasion; 
 which was celebrated with much festivity. 
 
LOUIS XV:S LETTER. 467 
 
 ty Ivan's friends and dependants. Kalynoh 
 would have rejoiced, if lie could have done so 
 honestly ; but this was not possible. Hence- 
 forward Kalynch, who always indulged in the 
 belief in general laws, (laws subservient to his 
 •own,) concluded that the birth of girls was a 
 blessing, and the birth of boys a misfortune. The 
 world might differ from him on this point ; but, 
 according to Kalynch, the world was generally 
 wrong in its conclusions. 
 
 " I suppose," he said, addressing the other 
 servants, "you imagined that it would have 
 been a fine thing if master had married 
 that great actress ; but I think I saw a little 
 further than the rest of you then. Not that it 
 was my wisdom, but that I knew what must be, 
 according to the principle which rules the course 
 •of all human events. Yes, yes, he has said it. 
 
 The Empress Elizabeth had not a very long 
 reign ; but it was a very glorious one. The 
 glory, however, so far at it was gained by her 
 success in arms, continued to be most painful to 
 her ; and, on the occasion of her great victory at 
 Ounersdorf, she betrayed to the world the agony 
 she felt at the deaths of so many " innocent per- 
 sons," as she justly called them. 
 
 There is a letter of Louis XV. which indicates 
 the anxiety that Elizabeth always manifested in 
 the interests of peace. She had intimated to the 
 King her desire to be a party, as a mediatrix, to 
 the treaty of the Quadruple Alliance. The Bang 
 in reply wrote thus : — 
 
 lie dessein que voire majeste a con^u d'etre la 
 mediatrice des Puisscmces qwi sont en guerre, est 
 digne de votre caew, et touche sensiblement le mien. 
 G'est un nouveau svjet de vous admirer ! Tous 
 
 2h2 
 
468 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 les Princes vous en doivent des remercimens, et las 
 mien,s sont d'amtant plus sineeres, que je vois mes 
 desi/rs les plus chers secondes par les votres. Je 
 peux vous jwrer, Madaine ma sceur, que je n'ai 
 ja/mais eu les armes a la main, que dans les vues 
 d' assurer la paix ; et mes succes fortifiant ces sen- 
 timens, les rovers seuls aura/ient pu les rendre 
 moi/ns vifs. 
 
 G'est a la Sowvera/ine a qui je dois le flus 
 d'esUme, que les nations devront le plus grand 
 bienfait. Les Rois ne peuvent aspirer chez eux 
 qu'a faire la feUcite de leurs sujets ; vous ferez 
 celle des Bois et des Peuples. Vous en serez, s'il 
 se peut, Madame, plus chere, plus venerable omx 
 'odbres; at voire regne en sera plusheureux, quand 
 les benedictions de I'Europe redoubleront celles 
 qu'on vous donne dans vos Etats. 
 
 Such were the consistent efforts which this 
 great Empress made to avoid the bloodshed both 
 of her own peoplCj and of the people of allied or 
 hostile nations. Her career offers a singular 
 example of how little any one person, however 
 highly placed, can effect, when endeavouring to 
 counteract the general tenour and tendency of 
 the age in which he or she has the fortune, 
 prematurely if so it may be said, to live. And, 
 indeed, it is doubtful whether she could have 
 accompb'shed much more of her peaceful designs 
 even in this Age, still very prone to indulge in 
 what ought to be the obsolete barbarism of war. 
 
 There is every reason to think that the favour- 
 able change which has, in the course of the 
 narrative, been indicated as taking place in the 
 Duke of Courland's character, became permanent.. 
 He ultimately regained his Duchy j but history 
 
MARSHAL MUNNICH'S CAREER. 469 
 
 makes no mentioti of any further severities on 
 his part; and, before he died, he abdicated in 
 favour of his son. 
 
 Marshal Miinnich remained to the end of his 
 life, and be lived to the age of eighty-four, the 
 same active, energetic, brilliant man, full of 
 schemes and projects of all kinds, as he proved 
 himself to be in the events that have been 
 recorded here. He, too, seems to have been much 
 improved by exile ; for, as wUl hereafter be seen, 
 he maintained his fidelity under circumstances of 
 great difficulty, and when he must have perceived 
 that this fidelity might prove his ruin. 
 
 At Elizabeth's death, an incident took place 
 which does not redound to the credit of those 
 ■eminent Christians, for such they had become, 
 the Duke of Courland and Marshal Miinnich, 
 although the result could hardly have been 
 otherwisei 
 
 Peter III. succeeded Elizabeth on the throne 
 of the Russian Empire. This Czar has usually been 
 •considered insane ; but I fail to see any clear signs 
 of madness in his reign of a few months — a reign 
 out short by the wicked intrigues of his wife 
 -Catherine II. One of his first acts was to 
 recall' from Siberia the political exiles of every 
 kind, who were located there ; and also, which 
 might not have been a very wise proceed- 
 ing, to bring them to his Court. Among 
 ihese exiles were Marshal Miinnich and his 
 family. The Duke of Courland was also invited 
 from Jaroslaw to attend the Emperor's Court. 
 The benevolent madman, if madman he were, 
 formed the project of uniting these two great 
 personages in an abiding friendship. It certainly 
 was a very bold project; and it required an 
 
470 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 enthusiasm of hopefulness, which the bystanders; 
 might well call madness, to suppose that this- 
 attempt would be effectual. There are hardly 
 any two personages known in history, whose- 
 hostUity has been more injurious to each other,, 
 than, that of these two celebrated men. It may 
 be recollected that their last meeting had been 
 in sledges on the bridge near Kazan, when the 
 Duke of Courland was returning from the little 
 house at Pelem which the Marshal had been so 
 kind as to design for him, with its prison-like form 
 and its narrow windows looking only into a back 
 court. They had then merely saluted one another, 
 the one coming from exUe, the other going to it, 
 by lifting their furred caps. It was indeed an 
 enterprise of difficulty to make two such men 
 friends. The first time that they were in the 
 presence of the new Emperor, he beckoned them^ 
 towards him. " Ah ! " he said, and what he said 
 might well appear to be not a very sane saying,. 
 "Here are two good friends; they must drink 
 together." 
 
 This drinking together had a great meaning^ 
 in that Age. . 
 
 The Czar ordered wine to be brought, poured 
 out two glasses with his own hand, and presented 
 one to each of these great personages. At that 
 moment, a certain man of the name of Gudowitzch 
 came into the room, went straight to the Czar, 
 and whispered something to him. It has always- 
 been conjectured that Gudowitzch's whisper had 
 reference to the conspiracy, then already in active 
 formation, which was to deprive the Czar of his 
 throne and of his life. He drew back imme- 
 diately, went out of the room with Gudowitzch, 
 and remained a long time away. As soon as he- 
 had left, the Duke and the Marshal eyed one- 
 
MUNNICH'S LOYALTY. 471 
 
 another witli a look that spoke of anything but 
 forgiveness and of the possibility of friendship 
 between them. 
 
 They then put down the untasted glasses of 
 wine upon the table, and turned their backs upon 
 each other. • 
 
 When the Emperor re-entered the room, he 
 seemed to have forgotten aU about this intended 
 scheme of reconciliation ; and well might he have 
 done sOj if that infamous plot, hatched under his 
 wife's auspices, had been for the first time 
 disclosed to him.* 
 
 In the fearful transactions which shortly after- 
 wards took place at the Court of Russia, 
 Miinnich was the truest and best counsellor 
 to the wretched Emperor; and, if the Czar 
 had but taken his advice, Catherine II. would 
 not have been able to consummate the murder of 
 her husband. It must, however, be said in praise 
 of her sagacity, as well as of her placability, 
 that she did not bear any ill-will to Miinnich on 
 
 * Als Biron und Miinnich sich das Erstemal bey Hofe 
 sahen, rief ihnen Peter III. entgegen : " Ah, da sind ja zwey 
 alte gute Freunde, diese mussen zusammen trinken." Er 
 liess sogleich Wein geben, goss ein xmd gab selbst jedem 
 ein Grlas. In dem Augenblicke trat Gudowitzch ins Zimmer, 
 nnd sagte dem Kaiser etwas ins Ohr (hinterdrein erfohr 
 man, dass es ein entfemter Wink gewesen war, den Monar- 
 cben auf die kiinftige Revolution aufmerksam zu machen, 
 den er aber nicht achtete.) Peter III. ging hinaus, undblieb 
 lange weg. Sobald er sich entfemt halte, sahen mch 
 Biron und Miinnich mit dem emsten Blick der xmter- 
 driickten Rache an, und mit einer Bewegung setzten sie 
 die Glaser auf den Tisch, und wendeten siob den Eiicken 
 zu. Der Eaiser kam ins Zimmer zuriick, hatte aber zum 
 Grliick die Aussohnung vergessen, denn schwerlich wtirden 
 Biron und Miinnich bey der Farce dieser Scene in ihrer 
 Miene den Ausdruck ihres Charakters haben erhalten 
 konnen. 
 
472 IVAN DE BIRON. 
 
 account of tlie advice he had given, and the aid 
 he had tendered, to the Emperor ; and that the 
 Field Marshal continued to live at her Court, 
 honoured, trusted, and even employed .in the 
 execution of great engineering works. 
 
 ' Yous avez voulu comhattre contre moi,' lui 
 dit cette jprincesse. ' Oui, Madame,' lui r&ponMt 
 le vieux feld-marechal ; ' fouvais-je moins fgire 
 ^owr le prince qui m'a delivre de la captivite? 
 Mais c'est a present mon devoir de combattra powr 
 Voire Majeste, et je le rerrvplira/i avec devouement.' 
 
 Perhaps the happiest personage of all, was the 
 ■old Prince Serbatoff. He had always with him 
 a loving daughter; and the Princess Marie 
 Andr6evna de Biron was one of those women 
 ■who are, or seem to be, more docile to a father 
 than to a husband. It appears to be inconsistent 
 with their inmost feelings of duty and of religion 
 to contend with one who, however small his 
 gifts may be compared with theirs, is placed by 
 nature in a position of command over them, 
 ■compelling obedience and even veneration on 
 their part. 
 
 The Prince's happiness was greatly increased 
 by having such an admirable son-in-law as Ivan 
 — one who could appreciate all the Prince's 
 courtly sagacity, and whose gradual rise in 
 official rank and power was a constant source of 
 delight to his worldly father-in-]aw. 
 
 This rise, it must be confessed, sometimes 
 puzzled the good Prince, and ultimately induced 
 him, rather against the grain, to enlarge the 
 sphere of his worldly wisdom. Very late in life 
 he was heard to say that, after all, in the case of 
 some extraordinary persons (not for the world in 
 
PRINCE SERBATOFF'S HAPPINESS. A,n 
 
 general and not in dealing with most people) it 
 was desirable that they should speak out what 
 they really thought. His Ivan had always done 
 so but it was not a habit to be recklessly 
 and loosely indulged in. 
 
 Such was the fate and such were the fortunes 
 of the principal personages in this story — a 
 narrative which has attempted to give some 
 representation of several of the chief events 
 during the eighteenth century ia that Empire 
 which has since gone on increasing iu greatness ; 
 which, in the liberation of its serfs, has given to 
 mankind an extraordinary example of daring 
 humanity; and which, if it advances with equal 
 persistance iu social and moral weU-beiag, as 
 material prosperity, is evidently destined to 
 become one of the most beneficent as well as 
 one of the foremost Powers of the world. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 FBHTTED BT TAYLOR AND CO., 
 LITTLE QUEEH STBEET, LINCOLH's IHN FIELDS.