THE -GREEN -BOOK-
MAURUS JOKAI
MAURUS JOKAI
THE GREEN BOOK
OR
FREEDOM UNDER THE SNOW
a
TRANSLATED BY
MRS. WAUGH
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1898
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
BLACK DIAMONDS. A Novel. Translated by
FRANCES A. GERARD. With a Photogravure Por-
trait of the Author. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental,
$1 50. (In "The Odd Number Series.")
One of the best of the novels of Mr. Jokai that have
thus far been put into English. . . . The story is a happy
blend of the elements of romance with those of every-
day life. . . . The action is varied, animated, and suffi-
ciently exciting to sustain the reader's interest, to which
a constant appeal is also made by the fresh and piquant
aspects given the book by its Hungarian atmosphere.
Dial, Chicago.
NEW YORK AND LONDON :
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS.
Copyright, 1897, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
All rights reserved.
THE GREEN BOOK
OR
FREEDOM UNDER THE SNOW
248954
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SNOW ROSES i
II. MIST SHADOWS 4
III. COMME LE MONDE s' AMUSE n
IV. No RIVAL 17
V. PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 21
VI. OLD AGE 34
VII. THE EIGHT-IN-HAND 47
VIII. AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 51
IX. THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN
BOOK 64
X. FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR ... 85
XL THE HUNTED STAG 102
XII. How A FORTRESS WAS TAKEN 118
XIII. A CANNIBAL 125
XIV. THE YOUNG HOPEFUL 134
XV. THE CZAR SMILES 141
XVI. SOPHIE 158
XVII. BETHSABA 168
XVIII. KORYNTHIA 172
XIX. THE MONSTER 176
XX. THE BLIND HEN'S GENUINE PEARL .... 199
XXI. THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL . . 207
XXII. THE DEVII ... 218
XXI II, THE STORY OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN
EYES 225
XXIV. "THEN YOU ARE NOT?" . . 232
iv CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
XXV. GOG AND MAGOG . ........ 247
XXVI. UNDER THE PALMS. ......... 255
XXVII. PANACEA " '.264
XXVIII. THE WEDDING PRESENT 272
XXIX. MADAME POTIPHAR 279
XXX. A MOTHER'S BLESSING ........ 284
XXXI. THE WILI 290
XXXII. NOT ONLY A BULLET STRIKES HOME . . . 299
XXXIII. THE RENDEZVOUS 303
XXXIV. A DIVIDED HEART. 316
XXXV. SPARKS AND ASHES 323
XXXVI. DAIMONA 326
XXXVII. IT'S NOT THE KNIFE ALONE THAT STRIKES
TO THE HEART 346
XXXVIII. THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 357
XXXIX. THE HERMIT 365
XL. DISCORDS 372
XLI. How TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE .... 377
XLII. THE FEAST OF MASINKA 389
XLIII. UNDER THE COMETS 404
XLIV. THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES .... 409
XLV. THE HERALD 429
XLVI. "BEATUS ILLE . . ." 430
XLVII. THE TEMPTER 435
XLVIII. THE MOUSE PLAYS WITH THE CAT .... 441
XLIX. THE ANTIDOTE 44&
L. " DEREVASKI DALOI" 45 2
LI. THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 460
EPISODES. THE RESCUED POET 479
GHEDIMIN AND ZENEIDA . 4 2
THE ROMANCE OF CONSTANTINE 4 8 3
THE GREEN BOOK
CHAPTER I
SNOW ROSES
A BLIZZARD is covering the roads with a thick coating
of snow. The horses are up to their fetlocks in it. The
dark-green firs bend beneath its weight, and what has
melted in the midday sun already hangs from the slender
branches of the undergrowth in thick masses of icicles ;
and as the wind sweeps through the forest the ice-covered
leaves and branches ring and jingle like fairy bells.
Ever and anon the moon shines out from amid the
fast-flying clouds ; then, as though it has seen enough,
hides itself again under the ghostly mist. The sighing
of the wind through the forest is like the trembling of
fever-stricken nature. In the stillness of night, through
the pathless forest, rides a troop of horsemen. Their
little long-maned horses sniff their way with low, sunk
necks; by the shaggy fur caps of their riders, and their
long lances hanging far back at their sides, they are to
be recognized as a party of Don Cossacks.
They ride in battle array. In the van a picket with
drawn carbines; next to them a detachment; then a
cannon drawn by six horses. After that follow a large
body of men ; then, again, a mounted gun and artillery-
: /; , THE Gk$EN BOOK
men. Behind these another troop of mounted horse-
men, and another gun-carriage drawn by six horses.
But to this the cannon is wanting. In its stead a human
form lies bound. The head hangs down over the back
of the rattling carriage, and as the moon ever and anon
peeps out from between the clouds, it discloses a face
distorted with agony, from which all trace of hair on
head or beard has been cut away perhaps dragged out.
The eyes and mouth are wide open. A coarse horse-
cloth covering is fastened underneath the man. A cor-
ner of it drags along the snow-covered ground. From
it every now and then a drop of blood falls a sign that,
in bleeding, the man still lives. The drops of blood in
the snow fantastically change, as they fall, into roses.
Red flowers on the white snow-tidd! The ghost -like
procession disappears in the mist.
Keeping carefully to one side, but ever following
closely on the track of the soldiers, is a horseman, also
mounted on a long-maned, broad -headed pony. He
wears a thick fur coat ; a fur-bordered czamarka is on
his head; icicles hang from his long beard. He rides
slowly and cautiously, his horse taking long strides, as
though its master were seeking something on the ground.
Then, as often as he sees a red rose upon the snow, he
dismounts, kneels, and with a golden spoon he takes up
the crystallized token and places it in an enamelled rel-
iquary, then rides on to the next.
The way leads without interruption through a prime-
val forest. It is the forest of Bjelostok. Only there, in
all Europe, are bisons to be met with. There no sound
of axe is ever heard ; storms alone bring down the giant
trees. One forest arises out of the decay of the former.
Beeches, oaks, limes, vie in height with tall pines. In
the dead of night resound the shriek of the lynx, and
SNOW ROSES 3
the roar of the female bison anxiously calling for its
sucking calf. But no human sound is to be heard.
No human dwelling is near. Had not the path through
the forest been a highway, undergrowth had long since
made it impenetrable.
The fallen drops of blood lead the rider on farther
and farther. Now they appear at longer intervals. At
length the last rose is reached ; the track left by the
wheels of the gun carriage is now his only guide. The
horseman continues to follow it. The man bound to
the gun-carriage is assuredly dead by this time. If
dead, they will as surely bury him somewhere.
Upon the endless solitary forest follow towns equally
void of human beings. On the banks of a great river
stand t\vo towns facing one another, marked upon maps
of a former century as still fortified places, but now
only to be classed among ruins. At that time they
were specified by name, Kazimir and Ivanowicze, I
believe. Now their very names are lost to history.
Fallen walls, heaps of bricks and stones everywhere.
Nettles grow rank in the snow-covered squares and
streets; castles, churches, and temples are overgrown
with briers to the very roofs. The broad river is frozen
over ; from out the ice rise the piles of a half-burned draw-
bridge, near to which stretches a track across the snow.
The solitary horseman follows the traces. In the middle
of the river his scrutinizing search is suddenly brought
to a halt by a newly made gap in the ice.
That it is newly made is shown by the broken ice
lying about, upon which no fresh layer of snow has had
time to form. The shape of the gap is oblong like an
open grave. Close round it are traces of many feet
upon the snow; not far away the smooth surface shows
the pressure of a human form, which must have lain
4 THE GREEN BOOK
there face downwards. Here, without a doubt, has
been the place of burial. They had lowered the body
under the ice (a secure burial-place, indeed) ; the cur-
rent would then convey it gently to the sea.
The horseman dismounts, kneeling down beside the
open space and baring his head. He murmurs some-
thing perhaps a prayer. Into the water beneath there
drops something perhaps a tear.
At that instant the moon shines out resplendent.
The man's head is distinctly visible a head once seen
not easily forgotten. A high forehead ; the hair of red-
dish hue, but already tinged with gray, growing low
upon it ; the face thin, nervous ; cheek-bones and
chin prominent ; nose aquiline ; deep-set eyes ; the
towsled beard brushed forward ; the character of the
whole face was one of suppressed suffering, of silent woe.
The moon has again disappeared under the clouds. A
thick, heavy mist falls around. Primeval forest and
ruins alike fade ; the figure of the horseman grows more
and more shadowy.
Through the thick mist, in the dead stillness of black
night, is a weird sound of sighing and moaning. Per-
haps it is the she-bison calling her young perhaps it is
the voice of one singing '' Boze cos Polske."
CHAPTER II
MIST S H ADOWS
AT the same time that the wanderer on the rough path
of Bjelostok forest was gathering up its snow roses,
another man on the far-off shores of the Black Sea was
preparing for a long, distant, and hurried journey. The
MIST SHADOWS 5
two men hasten to the same goal. They had never
seen one another, had never heard the other's name,
had never corresponded. Yet each is aware of the
other's existence ; aware that they are to meet, and
that this meeting must take place on a given day. The
first has, perhaps, the shorter road to take, but he can
only ride slowly ; he has to avoid inhabited towns, to
utilize night for his progress, to pass the days in isolated
csards.
The second has the longer and more difficult way;
but the only battle he has to fight is with the elements
of earth, water, fire, and wind, and these he can con-
quer. The fifth obstacle man places himself obse-
quiously at his service. This traveller wears the uni-
form of a colonel. Short of stature, he gains in height
by the singular erectness of his head and the elasticity
of his walk. By that walk he can be detected under any
disguise. His closely cropped hair displays a broad,
high brow; his eager eyes dance in his head as he
speaks. He has an expressive face one from which it
is easy to read his thoughts, even when his lips are silent
a face in which every muscle moves with his words ;
one in strongest contrast to that of the other man. He
can hide his every feeling under an immovable counte-
nance; this one betrays beforehand his every thought.
During his five minutes' colloquy with. the jemsik, he has
exhausted a whole gamut of expressions, from flattery to
rage, as if playing upon the strings of a violin. He ges-
ticulates violently with his hands ; now his five fingers
are under the peasant's nose ; then they strike him on
the shoulder, punch him in the ribs, seize him by the
lappet of his coat ; now shake, then embrace him. He
kisses him, strokes his beard with coaxing action, then
tugs at it, pushes him roughly away, finally reaching him
6 THE GREEN BOOK
his flask for a drink ; and perhaps his only object has
been to find out whether the road to Jekaseviroslaw is
passable or not.
For while the snow still lies deep in the forest of Bjelos-
tok, and gun-carriages may yet drive across the ice-cov-
ered Niemen, thaw has already set in along the valleys
of the Dnieper and the Don, and the whole plain is a
sea, from out which the rush huts, with their surround-
ing plantations of reeds, stand out like solitary islands.
To every hut a boat made of willow is secured; this
boat is the one and only mode of locomotion, albeit a
dangerous one, whereby in the spring season the inhab-
itants can convey themselves to the pasture-land to look
after their cattle and horses.
As far as eye can reach stretches out the endless red-
dish-brown plain. Rushes, reeds, and other water-plants
not yet freed from their dried-up winter clothing, lend a
deep-red shimmer to the landscape, to which the sprout-
ing willows, now illumined by the light of the setting
sun, add their tinge of color. The storm-portending
evening glow tinges the fleecy clouds flame color, causing
the rest of the sky to appear topaz green. Myriads of
water-birds whirl restlessly through the air, filling the
plain with their cries. In the far distance swim a flock
of swans, tinged golden in the setting sun, which, half-
sunken beneath the horizon, sends out its last rays
across the changing clouds, like a departing sovereign
clothed in gold and purple.
Across the great, never-ending plain there is but one
path, laid bridge - like with willow stems. Over this
the traveller must needs make his way there is no al-
ternative. The river banks passed, further sign of hu-
man habitation ceases. The smithy of a gypsy colo-
ny, which has established itself on the side of a hill,
MIST SHADOWS 7
alone sends its light far out into the evening mist. Soon
that, too, will be lost in the gathering gloom ; then the
traveller's three-horsed car must jolt along by the fitful
light of the moon. An occasional kurgan rising up here
and there in the Steppe is the sole sign that it was once
inhabited by a people. Those tschudas upon the brow
of the hill were their gods. Blocks of stone, with roughly
carved human heads, proclaim afar, even to the banks
of the Amur, the former abiding-place of a race which
has not left even a name behind, only its gods, which
later races have called tschudas (from the Hungarian
word csuda, signifying " miracle").
The traveller will find shelter for the night with a
Czaban, who has chanced to dig himself a cave near
the wayside, and lives there, surrounded by his numer-
ous herds of sheep. The Colonel remarks in his note-
book that the shepherds living in the neighborhood of
the kurgans are a stupid, squalid set, who smell of cheese.
Next morning the chariot with its ringing bells pro-
ceeds ever farther and farther, until the inundated banks
of the Dnieper oblige it to halt. Here the traveller has
no resource but to take to a boat. Luckily the stream
is sufficiently swollen to enable his boat successfully to
navigate the famous Falls of Herodotus without strik-
ing on the rocks. Only of the last does the ferryman
warn him. It is the Nyenaschiketz (the Insatiable).
There it is not advisable to tempt one's fate by even-
ing light.
" But I must go on," says the traveller, imperiously.
He is in haste. That alters the case. His imperious
"must" knows no hindrances. Upon it follows the
only answer, " Seisas" (Immediately). This one word
characterizes the whole people. It even bridges over
the " Insatiable." The boat goes to pieces, but boat-
8 THE GREEN BOOK
man and traveller swim safely to shore. The remain-
der of the night is passed in a fisherman's hut. The
traveller here remarks in his note-book that the boat-
men and fisher-folk who live on the banks of the Dnie-
per are a stupid, squalid set, who smell of fish.
The opposite bank. is inhabited by the Zaporogenes,
who take their name from the falls "zaporagi" people
who live beside waterfalls. Here it is only possible to
proceed on horseback. By nightfall the traveller has
reached Szetsa, a so-called village. The houses are
earthen caves, thatched with grass, called " kurenyi."
The traveller, after having sung and drunk with the
Zaporogenes, observes in his note-book that the dwell-
ers in " kurenyi " are a stupid, squalid set, smelling of
coach-grease.
The first work of a Zaporagen is to soak his new gar-
ments in tar, to make them durable. Among that people
are to be found the first indistinct traces of a longing
after freedom, primitive, but still existent. This instinct
reaches its culminating-point in the propensity to rob
their neighbors ; turn their wives out of doors when
tired of them, and take to themselves a fresh one, who
may please them better.
On, on, in the saddle, until the ancient city of the
Steppe looms in the horizon, "the Mother of Cities."
It is Kiev, the so often razed and rebuilt Jerusalem of
the Scythians, with its catacombs and remains of Sar-
matic saints. In the distance a deceptive Fata Mor-
gana, looking with its gilded cupolas like a city of
churches, from out which the mighty tower of Lavra
rises like a giant.
The traveller avoids alike the Beresztovo, the most
inhabited quarter, and the barracks ; nor does he avail
himself of the hospitable shelter of the Lavra monas-
MIST SHADOWS 9
tery, but seeks the Jewish quarter, and there in a poor-
looking Jewish hovel passes the night, taking counsel
with soldiers who, as though informed beforehand of his
coming, have entered one by one through the low en-
trance-door, to disappear in like manner by the oppo-
site one.
The traveller remarks in his note-book that the Jews
are a stupid, squalid set, who smell of anise-seed.
The way lies ever northwards. Spring-time vanishes
from the earth ; the glow of evening from the sky ; a
canopy of gloomy gray mist overspreads the firmament:
the pale disk of the sun is like a medal upon a ragged
soldier's cloak. Even the waning moon only rises late
of nights. The nights grow longer, and the flames of
the rush -heaps burning in the fields impede the way.
The traveller is often obliged to turn back to the houses
which border the pine forests. They are well-ordered,
pretty domiciles, inhabited by apostates who have taken
refuge from their pursuers in the woods.
There, too, sounds an occasional chord of yearning
after freedom. They are prepared to endure, to make a
firm stand, one and the other, in order to be allowed to
write the name of Jesus ("Jhsus"). This is something
for a beginning !
The traveller records in his note-book that the Ras-
kolniks are stupid and unhappy, and smell of leather.
Still farther northwards. Upon the plains green with
young wheat follow again expanses of snow ; instead of
flocks of swans and cranes, swarms of ravens and Arctic
birds are to be seen thickening the air. This time the
traveller passes the night in the Sloboden, where all sorts
and conditions of men congregate men from the most
remote parts in search of work, offering their pair of
hands for any description of labor. Hither each brings
10 THE GREEN BOOK
his misery, his ignorance, and foul odors. The misery
and ignorance are one and the same, but the foul odors
are diverse : by these they distinguish one from another,
through these they fall into broils. No sooner do they
perceive the alien smell than they come to blows.
Time presses with the traveller. Now he has reached
the land of sledges.
Thick mists and snow-storms are his companions.
There come days in which there is no morning or noon-
day; the snow-drifts change the world around him into
a prison-house. Such terrific snow-storms are only
known in those parts ; they are " pad," the terror of
travellers. The night frosts have become insupportable
in their severity ; the mile-stones lie hidden under the
snow ; the north wind has swept it into hillocks in many
places ; then, again, into deep holes, in which the sledge
sinks axle-deep : a chorus of wolves howl in the woods.
By morning the door of the csarda is snowed up ; the
only mode of egress is to crawl through the hole in the
roof, where the jemsik, his sledge already horsed, is in
waiting, leaning against the chimney. He calls laugh-
ingly to his fare :
" It is cold enough for a couple of fur coats, sir !"
The north wind has chased away the clouds over
night ; the sky is the color of steel. In the gray lilac-
tinted horizon a red glowing fire-ball is rising it is the
sun, which, running its orbit, scarce rises over the earth ;
even at mid-day it gives out no warmth. The king-
dom of winter reigns. And now the way becomes more
peopled. Life seems bright and stirring in this king-
dom of winter. Whole strings of sledges, laden high
with wares, move onwards in the one direction ; well-
appointed equipages, steering clear of the heavily laden
freight, pass them by. It is the last day of the journey.
COMME LE MONDE S AMUSE II
Along the horizon a shining streak grows visible the
frozen ocean. The streak grows broader and broader,
and as the sun goes down the rays of the aurora boreal is
stretch up over the starry sky to its very zenith ; and,
illuminated by this magic sea of rosy light, there arises
from out the expanse of snow a giant city, with the white
roofs of its palaces, the cupolas of its churches, the bas-
tions of its fortresses, cupolas and bastions alike of daz-
zling whiteness, as though it were the ghost of a city,
painted white upon white ; above it the rosy northern
light, behind it the bluish-leaden veil of mist.
The traveller has reached his goal. But the other-
is he here too ?
CHAPTER III
COMME LE MONDE s'AMUSE
IT is the last day of " Butter-week/' Despite the ex-
cessive cold, the streets of St. Petersburg are thronged
with a tumultuous crowd. To-day meat may still be
eaten, to-morrow the great fast begins ; every butcher's
shop will be shut; for seven whole weeks oil is in the
ascendant. Every one is in haste to make a good meal
to-day.
The great Haymarket, the "Szenaja Plostadt," is the
attraction to the hungry throng. There, in long rows
before the butchers' booths, stand on their four feet fro-
zen oxen, bucks, and wild boars, with heads outstretch-
ed, the butcher either sawing or chopping off the desired
joint for his customers ; his knife would make no im-
pression upon the hard -frozen meat. Quantities of
small game hares, partridges, pheasants, and black-
12 THE GREEN BOOK
cock from other countries, preserved by the icy atmos-
phere, hang in festoons from the booths. The venders
of bear's flesh have their separate quarter; the cen-
tre of the square is taken up by the fish shops, where
great heaps of bemaned sea- lions are offered as del-
icacies. Purchasers in tens of thousands pass before
the booths, some on foot, others in sleighs with bells
jingling, the greater part of them women, while the sell-
ers are all men. No women hawkers are to be found
here. Even the special delicacy of Butter- week, the
"blinnis," are made by men bakers; these are om-
elets soaked in butter and spread with caviare. Then
there are the Raznecsiks, tall young fellows, their fur
coats fastened with a girdle round their waists, who,
with baskets on their heads piled high with every kind
of eatable, go in and out of the crowd with untiring cry,
" Come, buy pirogo ! saikis ! kwast !" The venders of
tea are keeping it boiling hot in their great samovars ;
the doors of the spirit-booths are forever on the swing.
Pirog especially disposes to a good drink. It is a flat
cake, composed of chopped fish, meat, and coarse vege-
tables a choice morsel and this is the last day on
which it may be enjoyed ; to-morrow it may not even be
thought of. All St. Petersburg is in the streets. It is a
lovely day in March ; not a day of spring and violets,
but of frost and icicles. The north wind of yesterday
has sent down the thermometer fourteen degrees. Splen-
did weather !
At midday, just as the great clock of Isaac Church
begins to strike, a fresh hubbub arises among the noisy
throng. Down the long, straight street,called Czarskoje
Zelo Prospect, a party of huntsmen were seen coming
along in full pursuit of a magnificent twelve -antlerecl
stag. A stag-hunt at that season of the year is forbid-
COMME LE MONDE s'AMUSE 13
den by the common laws of hunting. The new antlers
are not yet grown ; they are but knots grown over with
tender hide. No less is it permitted to follow a hunt
through the streets of a city, more especially of St. Pe-
tersburg during Maflicza week. But this distinguished
party does not seem bound by ordinary laws.
The hunting-party consists of some twelve men and
three of the opposite sex, not counting about fifty hunts-
men and packs of hounds. They send the people fly-
ing the whole length of the street before them.
It may have been that the start had been in Czarskoje
Zelo Deer Park, that the stag had broken away and had
taken his course towards the town, the huntsmen after
him. A huntsman's zeal does not stop to inquire which
way is permitted or which prohibited.
The stag dashes across Fontankabridge. In vain the
toll-keepers put up the barrier, it clears it at a bound.
Then, seeing the hunting-party in pursuit, the terrified
toll-keepers prepare to reopen the passage. " Leave it
alone !" shouts the foremost, and the company, following
the example of the stag, clears it. Mr. Stag has mean-
while reached one of the principal streets, the hounds
on his track ; the gaping country bumpkins at the street
corners rush back in panic as the huntsmen dash past
them.
At the entrance to the barracks of the Imperial Cadet
Corps stands a grenadier on guard. If he has any sense
he will shoot down the approaching stag, that it may
not injure the crowd in its mad career. But military
etiquette goes before common-sense. The soldier on
guard, recognizing his superior in command, lowers his
gun and presents arms. The rebellious stag meanwhile,
knowing no such etiquette, springs upon the guard, and,
catching him on its antlers, tosses him into the air.
14 THE GREEN BOOK
The guard on reaching the ground again will probably
present arms once more from that lowly position. The
stag, by this time, has reached a cross street. This is
one of the most frequented promenades in the imperial
city. The loungers rush away in all directions, women
screaming, men swearing, dogs barking one runs against
and upsets the other sledges overturn upon fallen
foot-passengers. The stag and hunting-party spring
over outstretched bodies and overturned sledges alike.
It is capital sport no one can take any hurt, the snow
lies too thick. Now the stag, reaching the Haymarket,
seems somewhat bewildered. For one second it stands
affrighted, the dense throng blocking up the great square.
The next something attracts its attention. It is the row
of stags, which it takes for a herd, standing up before
the game-dealers' booths. Now the instinct of all hunted
animals is to seek refuge in a herd if they come upon
one. So away into the thick of the throng ! Now the
roar, the screams, and curses become a very pandemo-
nium. Booths and butchers' stalls overturned bear wit-
ness to the creature's wild career; but no sooner has
it reached its lifeless fellows and, with quick instinct,
scented blood, than, maddened with fury and with antlers
lowered, it forces itself a passage back into the Garten
Strasse, and tears off panting and snorting towards the
Costinoi Dwor. This is one of the curiosities of St.
Petersburg the great bazaar.
The Costinoi Dwor is a distinct quarter in itself,
where everything of most costly nature, from Persian
carpets to diamond necklaces, is to be bought. Here
the stag evidently thinks to find shelter. All the doors
stand open. From among the thousand shops he must
needs select that of a Venetian glass-dealer, huntsmen
and hounds in hot pursuit. In the vast apartment,
COM Ml-: I.K MONDE S AMUSE 15
supported by pillars, are massed crystal ornaments,
amounting in value to hundreds of thousands of rubles,
artistically piled into pyramids of fairy -like elegance,
the walls hung with Venetian mirrors reaching from
floor to ceiling. The unhappy Italian proclaims him-
self bankrupt as he sees the stag make for his shop,
containing such costly and perishable wares, and it is
a comical sight to see the poor signor and \\\<$> fauteuil
fall back head over heels when the crash comes. But
no sooner does the stag see an innumerable number of
its fellows reflected in the mirrors all around him, hounds
upon them, closely followed by galloping huntsmen, than
it completely loses the little remnant of wits it had re-
tained, and, turning its back on the raving Italian, it
clashes through the ranks of its pursuers towards the
Appraxin Dwor, where Turks, Jews, Armenians, Per-
sians, brokers, second-hand dealers, Little and Great
Russians, Copts, and Raskolniks, Gruses, and Finlanders
abound, their stalls crammed with old rubbish from every
quarter of the globe, and they themselves standing out in
the middle of the street to better attract the passers-by,
two or three seizing the unwary customer by the arm at
the same time, crying up their own wares, depreciating
those of their neighbors, squabbling among themselves,
vociferating oaths, lying, cheating, bargaining playing
the rogue in every barbaric language under the sun. And
to them, in their very midst, the excited, maddened stag!
Now the real fun begins. It was a sight to see the terri-
fied peddlers scattered right and left among their heaps of
rubbish, to hear their agonized adjurations to all the pow-
ers of heaven and earth ; to see them crawl on all fours,
frog-like, into their holes, as the huntsmen and hounds
went galloping in full course over their fallen bodies;
and to watch the angry company, after the wild hunt
1 6 THE GREEN BOOK
had passed, streaming back again to their desecrated
wares with loud laments, proclaiming that the world was
coming to an end. The stag simply flew over the heads
of the densely packed throng ; the hunt could not follow
up so rapidly; it required the huntsmen's whips to keep
the dogs together in such a bewildering crowd. Thus
it gained a certain advantage, and, reaching the Boule-
vard of the Fontana Canal, dashed across the frozen
stream to the opposite bank, and sped down the Goron-
schaja Street before its pursuers came up with it. [At
the time of our story (1825) a palace, surrounded by a
large park, the Bulasky Gardens, stood there. The
great fire of 1862 has since laid it, as well as the whole
Appraxin Dwor, in ruins ; the railway-station of Czars-
koje Zelo now occupies the site.]
The park is surrounded by a high gilded railing,
through which sprigs of vine-covered firs push their way.
Perhaps the stag takes it for its native home. Close by
palace and park lies the great Obuchow Hospital ; some
five hundred patients, men and women (most of them
epileptics) are just coming down the opposite street, re-
turning from Trinity Church, where they have been at-
tending mass. Should the affrighted creature rush in
among the panic-stricken crowd, there would be no es-
cape for them their crippled, infirm forms, their en-
feebled brains, would render it impossible. The very
fright alone might kill them, deadened as are their
senses. Now a chorus of horror arises from the proces-
sion of imbeciles, who, as if under a spell, come to a halt,
helplessly awaiting the attack of the incomprehensible
foe. Infirmity has not crippled their feet alone, but
their thinking powers also. Nothing intervenes to stop
the approaching stag. As it flies in full career past the
principal gate of the Bulasky Gardens a shot resounds in
NO RIVAL 17
the air. The stag makes a side spring, throws back its
head, sinks down, struggles up again, plunges its bleed-
ing nose into the snow, then stretches itself out, resting
its stately antlered head on the threshold of the gate,
as though in gratitude to him whose well-directed aim
has released it from its pursuers.
Sport was spoiled.
CHAPTER IV
NO RIVAL
WHAT unheard-of audacity, to spoil the sport of such
an aristocratic hunting-party !
"Who fired that shot?" cried the foremost of the
huntsmen, with a threatening crack of his whip.
The hounds clashed furiously on towards the open
gate, their sense of the dignity of the hunt equally in-
sulted.
The question had been put in Russian ; and the ac-
tion was in accord with the speech, although the speak-
er's face was close shaven in the French style, while the
other members of the hunt all wore short whiskers.
"I took that liberty !" returned a woman's voice;
and from under the fir-trees, whose branches overhung
o
the gate, appeared a woman's form, slender as one of
the Amazons of the " Kalevala " Saga, her pale oval
face surrounded by loose-falling hair of reddish gold,
like a lion's mane; the nose, straight and delicate, and
full lips recalling the Niobe group ; while at sight of the
great flashing eyes, instinct with magic beauty, one was.
irresistibly reminded of a peri from the "Sakuntala."
A very fairy, who united in herself the threefold myths.
l8 THE GREEN BOOK
" I dared do it !" she said, coming forward alone, un-
attended. And carelessly dispersing the excited dogs
with one hand, she raised the pistol she held in the other,
and, pointing it at her interlocutor, continued : " And
there is another shot in it for you if you do not instantly
lower your whip."
The hounds were cringingly snuffing about her whom
the moment before they had been ready to tear in
pieces; the huntsman, too, was not less susceptible to
the charm than was the pack. Raising his whip, he
touched his cap courteously with it, and addressed her
in French, the language of Russian society:
" It were unnecessary, madame, that you should use
firearms, possessing as you do in your eyes such power-
ful weapons."
By this speech the huntsman betrayed the school of
Versailles, where men were accustomed to carry on war
with compliments, and to mask retreat with gallant
words.
Meanwhile the rest of the hunting-party had come up
to the gates. The gentlemen, seeing with whom their
comrade was in conversation, held in their horses, as
though not wishing to take part in it; only an older
man, wearing an order set in diamonds on his fur-lined
coat, approached nearer ; and one of the ladies, galloping
straight up to the gate, pulled up her horse at its thresh-
old, the body of the dead stag alone separating her
from the other woman.
The huntswoman wore a blue, fur-bordered jacket,
with hunting -cap to match, under which her fair hair
hung in ringlets to the shoulders. Her face was
crimsoned with eagerness and the extreme cold, giv-
ing to her somewhat prominent eyes a still more daz-
zling brilliancy than they were wont to have ; her thin,
NO RIVAL 19
delicately shaped lips were half open ; the blue veil fall-
ing over her forehead, and the blue band she wore under
her chin as a protection from the cold, did not allow
more of her face to be seen. But as she drew up close
beside the other lady she pushed back the chin band,
perhaps in order to speak more freely, thereby display-
ing a pretty, rosy chin, divided by charming dimples.
"How dared you shoot that stag?" she cried to the
other lady. " Did you not know it was an imperial
one?"
"*Ho\v dared you chase that stag to the very gates of
the hospital ? Did you not know that it is a hospital for
cripples ?"
" I hope you recognize that the Czar is the first gen-
tleman in Russia."
" Throughout the whole world the first gentlefolks are
the sick."
" You are foolhardy, madame."
"That I admit."
Now the huntswoman lifted her veil. She was heated.
She toyed impatiently with the riding-whip in her hand.
"Why am I not a man?" she muttered, between her
pearly teeth.
The huntsman with the clean-shaven face, reading
from his companion's working features and piercing eyes
that there was something more in dispute than the shot
stag, now bending towards her, addressed her audibly
enough in German. For though the French language
that of the best-beloved enemy is the language of
society in the Russian capital, German that of the
most hated friend is only spoken by the exclusive.
German is therefore spoken when the servants are not
desired to understand.
" A rival, eh ?" asked the clean-shaven one.
20 THE GREEN BOOK
The huntswoman projected her lips scornfully, and,
knitting her brows, answered aloud in German :
"Neither rival nor "
The lady standing by had distinctly heard the short
colloquy, and was perfectly aware that she had another
charge in her pistol.
The speaker had turned pale as she spoke, like a
duellist who, having fired his shot and wounded his ad-
versary, now awaits the other's fire.
The owner of the park did not do this, however.
There are words, looks, and gestures which can strike
deeper than the most deadly weapon. Placing one foot
on the crowned antlers of the stag lying prone before
her, she smiled full in the face of her adversary ; and,
as though to emphasize the insulting challenge, raising
her pistol, she fired the remaining shot into the air. For
an insult loses its sting if directed by an armed person
against one unarmed. Now once more she stood con-
queror.
The huntswoman's face flamed with fury. She twisted
her riding-whip in her hands like a serpent, as though
inwardly debating whether to strike it across the other's
face, and thus wipe away the irritating smile.
One of the other two ladies was young, little more than
a child. Her face a perfect oval, with exquisitely
formed chin, a little rosebud mouth, large, deep-blue
eyes, looking black in the distance, dark, finely pencilled
eyebrows, and hair hanging in soft, shining plaits down
her back.
Her whole face wore the astounded expression of a
school-girl. The strangest thing about her was that she
rode a gentleman's saddle, with which her costume was
in keeping the Circassian beshmet, the broad, white
salavar, high boots, and flowing cashmere, with hanging
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 21
kindzsal. Every one but she knew what the two women
were saying to each other. He who happened to be ig-
norant of the language could understand the gestures,
the contemptuous expression of the features, the cross-
fire of eyes. The young girl did not understand even
that. She merely looked on in amazement. That the
two ladies were angry with each other she saw and
about a stag's antlers! The riding-whip was twisted
about in the huntswoman's nervous fingers until it
snapped. She made use of another weapon.
" Bethsaba !" she exclaimed, turning to the girl, and
speaking to her in a language unknown to any of their
auditors possibly Circassian; but the expression on
the speaker's face, and the terror-stricken, pallid look
on that of the young girl, said as plainly as words:
" You have asked me what the devil looks like ? Look
at that woman; there you have the fiend in human form."
The girl, bending her head, crossed herself as she cast a
frightened side glance at the dreadful woman, who was the
embodiment of his Satanic Majesty. Then the Amazon,
turning her own horse, and at the same time seizing the
reins of that upon which the young girl was mounted, gal-
loped back the way she had come, huntsmen and hounds
following. The stag remained where it had fallen.
CHAPTER V
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN
ON the way back to Ghedimin Palace naturally noth-
ing was spoken of by the members of the hunt but the
exciting scene to which they had just been witness.
" Parole d'honneur" said the clean-shaven horseman,
22 THE GREEN BOOK
as he struck his riding-boot with his whip, "the whole
world is turned upside down ! In the time of the Em-
press Elizabeth, if any woman had allowed herself to
insult a Princess Ghedimin in that manner, she would
have had her tongue cut out and have been punished
with the knout."
" This is what we have to thank exaggerated philan-
thropy for ! It was never created for us. Voltairian-
ism will be the ruin of the nation. How can Araktse-
ieff suffer it ?"
" The woman is no Russian ?"
" Perhaps some English or German here to spite us,
and who has placed herself under the protection of the
Embassy? By Jove ! in 1816, when I was last at home,
such a thing would not have been permitted !"
"These cursed foreigners! Anyway, if the president
of the police does not take the matter in hand, we will
administer the knout ourselves. I swear your presence
alone withheld me just now, Princess Maria Alexiev-
na !"
" Indeed ! You do not know who the woman is."
" What does it matter who she is ? She may even be
a princess."
" She is more than that."
"Then some expatriated queen, perhaps from Geor-
gia."
" Silence !" said the lady, as she gave a warning look
in the direction of the girl riding at her other side.
" She does not understand German. So the woman
is really a queen ?"
At this question the lady laughed heartily.
" Really a queen ! A true queen ! A reigning queen
an absolute monarch ! We all are her slaves ; you,
I, even Alexis Maximovitch. A queen who is not to
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMA.V 23
be driven out of her kingdom by means of cannon, but
with this !" and she held out to her companion the
whistle of her shattered riding-whip.
" What ! an actress ?"
" Of course. What else should she be ?"
" Ha, ha, ha ! To whom the whistle means a revo-
lution ; whose throne is upset by hisses ! Ah, Maria
Alexievna, present me with this whistle. With it I will
fight for you, as a knight sans peur et sans reprochc"
The lady resigned the fatal weapon, so efficacious in
the downfall of stage potentates, to her cavalier, as the
latter lifted her out of her saddle in the portico of the
Ghedimin Palace.
He then kissed her hand. She kissed him on the
cheek, and, taking the young girl by the hand, she
passed through a treble glass door and ascended the
broad frescoed staircase within.
Here the hunting-party broke up, making rendezvous
at the opera that evening.
Now the silent, bestarred gentleman, who had hitherto
not mixed in the conversation, slapping the clean-shorn
one on the back with the flat of his hand, said :
" Nicholas Sergievitch, a word with you. Come along
with me."
"At your service, Alexis Maximovitch."
And together they rode off to the Araktseieff Palace.
There are no old palaces in St. Petersburg. The
whole city only dates back a century and a half. The
palace of the favorite official of the Czar is situated
on the Nevski Prospect, and is built more for comfort
than for elegance. During the winter the whole build-
ing is heated throughout with hot-air pipes ; every win-
dow has treble cases; the floors of the rooms are of
parquetry.
24 THE GREEN BOOK
The two huntsmen said nothing until they had re-
freshed themselves with hot tea seasoned with arak and
a curious compound of cayenne and cantharides. A
tiny portion on the point of a knife of this latter warms
one's frozen limbs. In any other climate it were poison.
The great man whom we now recognize from the
name of his palace, Araktseieff, first locking the door of
the room they were in, pushed up a rocking-chair to the
fireplace for his guest, gave him a chibouque, and him-
self took up his station before the fire.
" Hark ye, Nicholas Sergievitch, put the whistle you
received from the Princess just now among your treas-
ures, and when you want to blow it go out into the
woods. That is my advice to you. For if you carry
out what you have sworn to the Princess you will find
yourself next day on the road to Irkutsk, and, by Heaven !
I can't say when you will be coming back."
"The devil!"
" You see, the Czar is of opinion that he can create a
hundred noblemen such as you in an hour ; but singers
such as Zeneida Ilmarine are to be met with but once in
the century."
" Ah ! So this mysterious stranger is Zeneida Ilma-
rine, the far-famed Simarosa heroine? All honor to
her ! I take my pipe out of my mouth as I speak her
revered name ! When I made my promise to Princess
Ghedimin, I had no idea whom it concerned. This ab-
solves me from my oath. Against the ' divine ' Zeneida
one may not revolt, even to please the 'angelic' Maria
Alexievna. Rather raise the standard against the whole
army of legitimate rulers ! What a fool I was ! The ex-
cessive cold must have frozen my wits like quicksilver
in a thermometer. Of course, I had heard abroad that
the diva was a protegee of the Czar and Czarina, and,
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 25
moreover, the beloved of the brave Ivan Maximovitch.
From the dialogue in which the two ladies indulged, I
might have gathered that it was a meeting between wife
and lady-love."
" Now you must devise a way to find favor with both.
Favor with the wife, as with the sweetheart."
"Easy as kiss your hand. I have only to tell one
about the other."
"That may succeed with the wife, for she is outspoken,
straightforward, and passionate. With the favorite, how-
ever, it may be more difficult ; for she understands how
to play as many parts in real life as on the stage. And
your office it will be to find out which is the real one."
"That I will do as sure as my name is Galban."
"Well, Chevalier Galban, you may imagine that it is a
matter of some importance which has induced us to call
you back from Versailles, where you were to us as eyes
and ears are to man. You have there learned, in mas-
terly fashion, how to unravel the most secret diplomatic
webs by means of a woman's heart, yourself the while
remaining unscathed. Now you must carry out yur
master work at home."
" What, Holy Russia has secrets which her police and
the priests are unable to fathom ?"
" My dear Chevalier Galban, our good Chulkin has
enough to do to catch thieves, and is not too successful in
that department. I counsel you, if your sledge be stopped
on the way home from the club at night, give the thief
your purse quietly, for if you call the watch the soldiers
will ease you of your fur coat into the bargain. If, on
the other hand, you fall into the hands of a policeman,
he will not only clear you out, but the thief too. As for
the priests, they count for nothing to our people, who
are atheists."
26 THE GREEN BOOK
" Have we come to that ?"
"Yes; to that. General Kutusoff did well to say,
'when our forces came back from the French War, * The
best thing the Czar could do would be to drown the
whole expedition in the Baltic.' They were all indoctri-
nated to a man with liberalism, and have infected the en-
tire army. I assure you that many a young officer carries
' The Catechism of a Free Man ' and * A Scheme of Consti-
tutional Monarchy' about with him in his coat-pocket."
" How do they get hold of them ?"
"They must have a secret press."
"They have been allowed to play with freedom too
long."
" That were the least danger. As long as we allowed
them the game of freemasonry, all was open and above
board. At the court balls they would talk in the pres-
ence of the Czar himself of freedom, and debate over
the rights of the people and the emancipation of serfs.
That was all academical discussion. But when the ma-
sonic lodges were closed, and the insignia sold by auc-
tion in the Jews' market on the Appraxin Dwor, the se-
cret evil grew worse and worse. The freemasonry of
Mamonofr, of a sudden, took five or six different forms.
One called itself a 'General Betterment Society,' Or-
loff at its head. Another was ' Szojus Spacinia,' a third
'The Confederation of Patriots,' a fourth ' Szojus Blaga-
denstoiga.' There is another constituted under the title
of 'Republic of the Eight Slav Races'; its members
wear an eight-pointed star as a token, the inscription
on one of the points being Hungary. They grow like
mushrooms."
" Ridiculous ! Even in my time there were clubs
where secret meetings were held. But there was no talk
then of danger to the State. If certain much-wronged
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 27
husbands had no complaint to make, the police might
let us go scot-free."
"That is not the case now," answered Araktseieff, im-
patiently. (It was his habit, when receiving secret visits
in his own house, to keep a sword-stick in his hand, with
which he would incessantly prod screens, walls, and hang-
ings, as though ever suspecting listeners ; and did he per-
ceive that his visitor had a bulging pocket-handkerchief
or note-book, he would prod that, too, to discover what
was there.) "They are about everywhere, and yet no-
where to be traced. They give each other rendezvous at
balls, concerts, wine-parties, etc., and so contrive to give
our spies the slip. Why, they actually keep a register, a
sort of parliamentary hand-book, in which the confer-
ences of every distant province are entered concerning
the organizing of a systematic revolution throughout Rus-
sia ; the best form of constitution; what is to become
of the dynasty ; how the empire is to be partitioned,
and whether to be represented by landed proprietors
or the people. And this protocol it is which contains
a fully named register of the conspirators, those who
hold the threads of the net in their hands throughout
the whole land, from the shores of the Black Sea to the
Arctic Pole. Among themselves they call it ' the green
book.' Now, where is this book ? That is the question."
"To which I reply by a counter- question. But do
not keep on so incessantly prodding my coat-pockets
with that sharp stiletto of yours. Has any one seen
this book and, if seen, why has he not said where he
has seen it ?"
"That I will tell you, too. The conspirators are di-
vided into three classes. The first are * Brethren.' To
this community any one may belong, on his introducer
making himself responsible for him ; they know nothing
2 8 THE GREEN BOOK
beyond the fact that they are members of a conspiracy,
and have the right to attend meetings. The second class
are called ' Men.' They are trusty people, who, on a cer-
tain watchword being given them, are authorized to act.
You may reckon one-third of the officers in the army as
belonging to this class. They cannot betray anything
beyond their own individual names and the work given
them to do. Then we come to the third class, the ' Bo-
jars,' and leaders of the whole affair. It is extremely
difficult to get in among them ; and those who do belong
to them do not betray one iota."
" Are they married men ? Have they no wives no
mistresses?"
" That question occurred to me long ago. It is no new
discovery that women are the best mediums for discover-
ing secrets. Bright eyes and diamonds can cast light into
many a dark corner that is an old story! That 'the
green book' is in the custody of some woman is un-
questionable ; but, so far, with all our espionage, we
have reached no further. We were informed that Or-
lofFs mistress was the possessor of * the green book,'
and paid down enormous sums for the information.
And what did we find ? A pack of scandalous anec-
dotes of St. Petersburg society, all of which, moreover,
were known to us before. Then we got on another
scent. ' The green book ' was in the keeping of the
' Martinists,' whose president had a lady-love faith-
fulness itself. In her case all our bribes were useless.
So one night we had her surprised in her room, bound,
the boards of the floor raised, and actually there was
found a 'green book.' But it contained nothing but
atheistic theses. AVhat was the use of them ? People
may rebel against the Deity, but not against the Czar !
At length we received secret information that the heart
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 29
of the conspiracy is that league which calls itself 'The
Northern Union ' its head Prince Ghedimin."
" The devil !"
" Yes, my friend ; the next in succession to the
throne ! He it is who must hold possession of ' the
green book/ or who has had it in his keeping. To
whom should a man confide so dangerous a treasure
but to his own wife ? But the husband, we are told,
always wore the key of the iron chest in which the
book was guarded round his neck. Father Hilary at-
tacked the Princess on the religious side, and persuaded
her to remove the key from her husband's neck when
he lay unconscious in typhus fever. She must have had
many sins to atone for. Anyway, she did commit the
small piece of treachery, and I passed a whole night
studying 'the green book' obtained from Ghedimin."
" Well ?"
"Well, having carefully gone through it, I flung it to
the other end of the room. The book was filled with
dangerous doctrines nothing more. Pure abstract rea-
soning, philosophical treatises, and the like, but no single
name of any member. What care I for the utterances
of Seneca, Rousseau. Saint-Just ? What I want to know
is what the Muravieffs and Turgenieffs are talking
about. That, too, was a mere piece of trickery. That
cunning Ghedimin did not trust his wife. He gave her
a book to keep which the Censor had she betrayed
him would readily have condemned to be burned, but
for which the President of Secret Police would have
grudged the oil consumed in the reading."
"Then, if the real 'green book' is not to be found
in his wife's keeping, it must be in that of his lady-love
and that lady-love is Zeneida?''
" Right."
30 THE GREEN BOOK
" Is she a foreigner ?"
"No; a subject. A Finnish girl from Helsingfors ;
and especially favored by 'the Czar, because she has
triumphed over the pride of the Empire Catalani. The
Czarina, too, is very gracious to her. You know that
the Czar is a great music-lover, and will not suffer the
school of Cimarosa and Paisiello to be set aside by the
modern school of Rossini. Zeneida Ilmarine does not
sing a note of Rossini. At all hours she is admitted to
the imperial family. How often have I ay, and even
the Grand Duke Nicholas had to kick our heels in the
antechamber while she was having audience ? At the
court soirees she is treated like any reigning princess ;
she alone is privileged to wear in her hair a white rose,
the Czarina's favorite flower. It is entirely due to the
magic of her voice that the Finnish students of Hel-
singfors escaped being sent off in a body to Kiew after
the rebellion ; for she can intercede as effectually as
she can sing. The Czar would have raised her to the
rank of a duchess, but what do you think the spoiled
diva said ? ' Would your Majesty wish to degrade me ?' "
" And is this the woman who could take part in a
conspiracy against the Czar?"
" Why not ? if the leader of that conspiracy be sweet
upon her, a Prince Ghedimin, the most powerful among
Russia's twelve ruling families, the number of whose
serfs and estates more than equals the whole kingdom
of Wurtemberg. Do not forget, moreover, that she is a
< Kalevaine.' ' :
"What are the proofs of this suspicion ?"
" I have already told you that the conspirators are
marvellously clever in eluding detection. It is not their
way to creep into obscure corners or subterranean
caves; they rather hold their meetings in the midst
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 31
of crowds and in public places. This is a wrinkle they
have learned from the Poles, among whom the ' Phila-
retes ' and * Vendita ' usually meet at their yearly fairs.
Now the fast is at hand. For seven weeks every pub-
lic amusement is forbidden, that the people may see
that great folks do penance as well as themselves. High
and low must attend the services of the Church. But no
one asks what takes place o' nights behind closed doors.
This is the harvest-time for secret meetings. The in-
vited guests have no political proclivities ; they have no
wish to found constitutions; their sole idea is to enjoy a
good dinner * Anti-fasters ' they call themselves. Sur-
prised by the police, all that would be discovered would
probably be a table spread with appetizing game or
steaming roast-beef, and, maybe, a few guests the worse
fur liquor. The ' sinners ' would, of course, be fined,
but no one would be the wiser of what was taking place
in the more private apartments. And here our prima
donna has peculiar advantages. The stage, as you know,
makes its own laws. Who in the world expects to find
strict morality among actresses and ballet-dancers ?
The police wisely shut their eyes to much that goes on
among them. He who is lucky enough to be an invited
guest to one of Zeneida Ilmarine's exclusive Careme
soirees will find all the frivolous beauties of the opera
and ballet, ail the jeunesse doree of St. Petersburg, as-
sembled, and will have no need to complain of either
the lack of fiery eyes or fiery wines. Many a man has
been singed by them. But if he be wise enough to keep
his head in the midst of the tumult, he will observe a
certain portion of the company disappear gradually and
noiselessly from the reception-rooms."
" There may be other reasons for such disappear-
32 THE GREEN BOOK
" Certainly. For instance, roulette may be carried
on in those private apartments. Now, the Czar has
issued a severe prohibition against roulette -playing
any one caught in the act is sent straight off to Siberia,
without possibility of remission of sentence. It is a fact
thatZeneida's calumniators, especially among the women
who are envious of her, have circulated the report that
she keeps a roulette bank, which enables her to indulge
in all her lavish luxury. I hold a different opinion."
" Upon what grounds ?"
" That Michael Turgenieff is a constant guest at these
theatrical soire'es, and is one of those who at midnight
disappear into the inner apartments. Now. Michael
Turgenieff is a philosopher and a puritan."
"Even philosophers have their lucid intervals, induced
by combined charms of pretty women and good wine."
" We know Michael better. I have had my eye upon
him ever since his Demi-Decemvir. He was the only
one among his young companions who did not give
way to any of the modern forms of debauchery. In his
travels through England, France, and Germany, he only
sought out great writers and men of mind and genius ;
he was never to be found in fashionable or vicious
haunts. Not even in Paris, where vice and pleasure
reign supreme. What, then, should possess him to se-
cretly worship here at the altar of false gods ? No; the
presence of this one man alone is sufficient to betray
that those closed doors conceal other than Eleusinian
mysteries."
" And it has, so far, been impossible to discover
them ?"
" No sooner does Zeneida, taking the Duke's arm,
leave the company than it assumes the aspect of a
revel. Beauty and folly take possession of men's
PLAN OF WAR AGAINST A WOMAN 33
senses, and next day not one of them can recall any-
thing but that they have had a jolly evening. If a
'Brother' try to follow a 'Bojar' in his retreat, he is
surrounded by sirens, who lure him back by a conspir-
acy of charms. In order to let diamond cut diamond,
and so conquer the high -priestess of the mysteries
herself, it needs just such a conquering hero as you
are."
"Very flattering for me ! When shall I make a be-
ginning?"
" This very night. It is the last day of Maslica week,
the last night of the opera. Zeneida is to sing in Cima-
rosa's Secret Marriage. The streets will be thronged.
At the stroke of midnight the bells of all the churches
will proclaim the beginning of Lent. Every one goes to
confession. In the opera queen's kingdom, however, the
revel begins. Prince Carnival, with his merry company,
will make his joyous procession through the brilliantly
lighted saloons, through whose fast-closed windows no ray
of light, no sound of music, may penetrate. You must
manage to procure an invitation to the entertainment."
"After the insult of to-day?"
; ' You are master in the art of intrigue."
" I have given my promise to Princess Ghedimin to
hiss her rival off the stage to-night."
" You have given me your promise to win her to-night."
"The time is too short."
" But the opportunity favorable. I am informed that
yesterday two men arrived in the capital who are rarely
seen here. The one is Krizsanowski, from Poland ; the
other, Colonel Pestel, of the Southern Army. Both have
already received invitations to Zeneida's so-called dance.
Only there can you come across them ; and you must
find out from them what has brought them here."
3
34 THE GREEN BOOK
"I will be there."
"How will you manage it?"
"As we men begin all love affairs by means of pres-
ents."
" Ah ! this nymph is richer than you, my dear fellow.
She makes her forty thousand rubles in a single con-
cert. If her mood is for diamonds, she chooses out the
most costly ; if for something better than diamonds, she
divides her night's earnings among the poor. It may
happen that you receive back your presents twofold."
" I will make her a present which will command her
favor an eight-in-hand."
" Ah ! such as the Czar alone possesses ?"
" Such as not even the Czar possesses ! You shall
see, with this eight-in-hand, I will force open the gates
of the fairy castle. Leave the rest to me. If a 'green
book' be in existence, I will know its contents."
CHAPTER VI
OLD AGE
PRINCE GHEDIMIN was dining that day with his wife.
Both he and the Princess studiously avoided mention
of the affair which so abruptly ended the hunt. Yet it
was unlikely that the news of it should not have spread
throughout the city. The police alone appeared igno-
rant of it, the shot stag remaining on the spot where it
fell. Was it the intention to remove it at nightfall, when
no one could see who took it away ?
" Shall I meet you at the opera to-night ?" asked the
Princess.
"I am not sure if I can be there."
OLD AGE
35
" It would be a pity to remain away. Fraulein Ilmarine
sings in the Secret Marriage for the last time this season.
She will have a great ovation."
The Princess firmly believed that Zeneida would be
hissed off the stage ; and what could be better than
that the Prince should have the pleasure of witnessing
her humiliation from his wife's box?
" I am awfully sorry that I cannot engage to be there,
my dear. As you are aware, it is my night to visit my
grandmother, and when once I am there the dear old
lady is sure not to let me come away. She has so much
to ask about every one, and at the stroke of midnight
she will expect me to take the organ in the chapel ad-
joining the apartment and sing through the penitential
mass ; and I cannot refuse her. But if you wish that
we should spend the evening together, why not come
with me ?"
"Oh, many thanks. I do not sing in masses."
" But you have not once been to see the grandmother
since our marriage."
"I think you know that I shrink from dead people."
"But the poor old soul is still living."
" So much the worse a living death ! It makes me
shudder to look at a mummy, and to think that some
day I too shall appear like one !"
" Ah, well ! A pleasant evening to you, my love."
"Edifying devotions, your Excellency."
The Prince withdrew. The Princess sent her dwarf
after him, that hidden among the orange-trees in the
conservatory he might find out whether the Prince had
actually gone to his grandmother's apartments, and how
long he stayed there.
Ivan Maximovitch Ghedimin really did pass through
the corridor into his grandmother's apartments. The
36 THE GREEN BOOK
old lady inhabited the central block of the palace, its
windows, on both sides, looking on to the court-yard.
It is twenty years since Anna Feodorovna has left her
apartments. Even in the sultry summer heat, a time
when all the aristocrats of the capital take refuge in
the islands of the Neva, she passes it among her fur-
hung walls.
Since the spring of 1804, when she had a critical ner-
vous illness, she has spent her days in a wheel-chair, the
being wheeled from the dinner to the card-table and back
again her only exercise. She dreads fresh air.
At first she had some society. Three old ladies of
her own age used to come to play whist and gossip
with her. Gradually they left off coming; first one,
then two, at length all three. No one dared to tell her
that they were dead; she was told that they found it
difficult to mount the stairs. Since then she had played
her game of whist alone.
The old lady still wears the old-fashioned cotton cos-
tume which was so fashionable in 1^03, when the Czar
Alexander had forbidden the importation of foreign
woollen stuffs. She thinks that every lady in society
still wears it, and with it a cap and feather, closely re-
sembling a turban.
It is now twelve years since the last of her contem-
poraries visited her. All have now been gathered to
their fathers. But Anna Feodorovna must not know
this. All are living, and on every great occasion send
her their messages and congratulations, exchange con-
secrated cakes with her, and colored Easter eggs; and on
Easter morning she always finds on her table their illu-
minated visiting-cards, with the inscription in letters of
gold, " Christos wosskresz."
History for her has stopped with the signing of peace
OLD AGE 37
between the Emperors Napoleon I. and Alexander I.;
and the appointment, at that date, by the Czar, of her
only son, Maxim Wassilovitch, to the command of the
new Georgian regiment of Lancers. Georgia had just
been incorporated into Russia, and Anna Feodorovna
tells proudly to this day how, on one occasion, she had
the honor of a conversation with Heraclius, the deposed
Emperor of Georgia ; how her beloved son, Maxim,
brought his Majesty up to her, and although she did not
understand what he said to her for his ex-Majesty only
spoke Persian, which was not at all like either Russian
or French they had had a most interesting conversation.
From that period in history it had been the endeavor
of the family that no rumors of the world and its events
should disturb the quiet of that revered member. A
daily paper was published separately for her, from which
every war detail was scrupulously expunged. The reign-
ing sovereigns did nothing in the world but give or
take a princess in marriage, magnanimously yield each
other territory, distinguish their generals for no reason
whatever; and, that the century might not pass over
without some blood -shedding, the unbelievers on the
far-off island of Tenedos were occasionally slaugh-
tered ; a revolt of the Kurds on the boundaries of
Persia would be suppressed from time to time ; or Bel-
grade be conquered by Csernyi -Gyurka. Anna Feo-
dorovna knew nothing of the terrible French invasion,
nor of the burning of Moscow; nor that her only son,
Maxim, had fallen in the battle of Borodino. Her
paper, on the contrary, stated that Maxim Wassilovitch
had been appointed Governor of Georgia, and had at once
proceeded there without furlough. From that time news
had regularly come to her from him, and he had sent
letters, which her man-servant was obliged to read to
38 THE GREEN BOOK
her, for her eyes were not capable now of deciphering
handwriting. The good son who never forgot his old
mother! Her man-servant, faithful Ihuasko, is every-
thing to her cook, house-maid, reader. He, too, must
be some seventy -five years old; thus fifteen years
younger than his mistress. No other serving-man would
have held on as he had done, no other have submitted
to put a seal to his lips, and have observed silence as
to all that was passing without. Even among us men
there are few Ihnaskos. And on a fete day, such as this,
it is especially difficult, when Anna Feodorovna does not
play cards for card-playing is sinful and there being
no whist, she questions the more.
Fortunately for her she has a good appetite, and can
enjoy all the varieties of cakes sent her by ' her friends "
on this last Maslica day.
"Ihnasko, I cannot believe that Sofia Ivanovna pre-
pared these cakes herself. She always stones the raisins
so carefully. Try this one."
"You are right, your Highness. But then the poor
lady's eyesight is not so good as it was."
" Oh yes ; she grows old, like me. Reason enough to
see nothing."
(The main reason, however, is that six feet of earth
lie between her and the world.)
" And the little princess, and the brunette countess,
have they sent their usual congratulations to-day? And
the Lieutenant-General's wife, who is so hard of hear-
ing ?"
" The cards are all laid on the silver table, your High-
ness."
" And you have acknowledged them in the customary
manner ?"
" At once, your Highness."
OLD AGE 39
" You should have written in very large characters to
the Lieutenant-General's lady, for she is so hard of hear-
ing. Has the old beggar-woman come for the warm
clothing ? Was she glad to have it ? Did she not proph-
esy good luck for this year ? Is it not to be a comet
year ? Ah, there is no chance of that ! Have you taken
the grand duchesses their bouquets?"
" I took them. They return their thanks."
" Are neither of them married yet ? Dear me ! They
must be of marriageable age now."
(Both are long married in their girlhood to the
white bridegroom, Death ; but no one has ever told
Anna Feodorovna this.)
" How is the old man ?"
" As usual."
" Does he make use of the Elizabeth pills I sent him
against gout ?"
" Constantly."
" Can he sleep at night ?"
" Sometimes, yes ; sometimes, no."
" Does he not grumble when it is new moon, or the
wind blows ?"
" At times. But he soon calms down."
"Of course, he always has that horrid pipe in his
mouth, and sits in clouds of smoke like a charcoal-
burner."
" What else should he do ?"
" Wait a minute. Just take him these warm night-
caps. I knitted them with red wool for the old man
myself. He has always liked red caps. Tell him that
I think of him, though he does not think of me. But
what could he send me tobacco ashes ?"
(Alas ! the old man has long become dust and ashes
himself. He was Anna Feodorovna's husband, a martyr
40 THE GREEN BOOK
to gout, who did not see his wife once in a year, although
they lived in the same house. Neither would visit the
other. She could not endure a pipe ; he could not live
without it. One day he, too, found that his mausoleum
in the Alexander Nevski Cathedral was a more peaceful
resting-place than his bed ; but he was interred so silently
that his old wife did not know of his death, and continued
to knit him his red night-caps.)
" Where can Boysie be so long ? My boy is surely not
ill ? It would be a fine thing if Boysie forgot me ! I will
give him a downright scolding for this."
Hereupon Ihnasko had to calm his old mistress by
telling her that " Boysie " had been called upon to attend
an important council held by his Imperial Majesty the
Czar. Most probably concerning some new grant of
territory.
That was quite another thing !
Of course, Boysie was a grown-up man now a man of
thirty, and the owner of many an order set in brilliants.
It is her grandson, the haughty, powerful Prince Ivan
Maximovitch Ghedimin, whom his old grandmother still
calls the "Boy."
The lamp has long been lighted ; indeed, for days to-
gether it is not extinguished. At the least current of air
the windows are closely curtained, and three or four days
may pass before daylight is again admitted. It matters
little to the owner of the apartment whether it be day or
night; she neither rises nor goes to bed. She lives in
her arm-chair. If she is sleepy, she goes to sleep ; when
she awakes she is ready for her food, and with good ap-
petite. Every Sunday her maid washes and dresses her,
and that function lasts for the week. When the bells of
the Isaac Cathedral begin their midnight peal she knows
that Sunday has come round again ; when her newspaper
OLD AGE 41
is brought to her she knows that it must be Friday.
Sometimes the two, Ihnasko and she, quarrel about poli-
tics.
Just now there are strained relations between mistress
and man. A paragraph in the newspaper has stated
that " the heroic George Csernyi has taken the fortress
of Belgrade from the Turks."
The mistress chooses to understand by this that Cser-
nyi had stormed the fortress and massacred the unbe-
lievers ; the man, on the contrary, takes it literally, that
he had bought the fortress from the Turks for sterling
cash.
Over this they quarrel hotly.
"When Ivan comes, he shall decide it; and if you
are right, you shall have a brand-new coat trimmed with
fox; if I am right, you shall get five-and-twenty lashes
with this rod from my own hands !"
From her hands, who had not the strength to kill a
fly! But the old woman is vindictive, and has already,
for the third time, ordered him to lay out the new coat
and the courbash on two chairs, so that the instant
Ivan comes he shall get either the one or the other.
And yet she forgets all about her anger, Belgrade, and
George Csernyi the moment " Boysie " appears on the
scene.
He comes in so gently at the tapestried door that she
only perceives him when he stands before her.
Her Boysie is the handsomest man in the whole cap-
ital ; he is as tall as the Czar.
His languishing gray eyes wear an earnest, thoughtful
expression.
" Now, you bad boy to come so late ! Is school but
just over ? Are you not afraid that I shall make you
kneel to ask my pardon ?"
42 THE GREEN BOOK
He is already kneeling before her ; and the old grand-
mother passes her thin, wrinkled hand over his face as
he bows his head on her lap. Laughing, she playfully
ruffles his hair.
"This naughty Boysie ! He knows how to coax his
old grandmother, like any kitten. All right; you shall
have no blows this time. I forgive you ; so no need to
cry. He has just the same shaped head as my Maxi-
milian ; only Maximilian loves me best, for he writes to
me every month ; and yet he is a great man. At your
age two orders of merit already decorated his breast.
But what have you done ? Have you fought yet for the
honor of your country? Are you following in your
father's footsteps ?"
The old woman's hands feel over the young man's
breast until they rest upon the diamond star of the
Alexander Nevski order, upon which she cries, joyfully:
" This is no cross ; it is a star ! And set in brilliants !
You have robbed your father, for this order would have
sat well upon him. He is a hero, a great man ; the dia-
mond star would well have become him. But he, too,
has already obtained the first grade of the order, has he
not? And set with diamonds as fine as these?" (Ah
yes ah yes! he has received it set with glistening
pebbles in the cool sands of the Muscovite soil.) " But
now stand up. You are a grown-up man, and what
would the Czar say if he were to know that his privy-
councillor still knelt, like a boy, at his grandmother's
knee ? Stand up, my dear boy, and tell me about mat-
ters of State. I know how to talk about them. Oh, in
Czar Paul's time I was up in everything. It was I who
kept the old man back from joining in Count Paklem's
conspiracy, or he would be even now in Siberia. Eh,
my boy, you love the Czar ? That's right. How many
OLD AGE 43
a time has Czar Paul bastinadoed your grandfather !
And he never complained. But now there are no con-
spiracies throughout the whole land against the Czar."
"None, clear granny."
" If at any time you should hear of plots, mind you
tell it at once to headquarters. If you knew there was
a thief lurking under your grandmother's bed, would you
not straightway drag him out by the legs? Much more
is it your sacred duty to destroy all conspiracies against
the Czar's Majesty. He who works against the Czar
will be punished, but he who serves him will be richly
rewarded. How was it with KutusofT? Did not the
Czar take the finest jewel from his crown to present to
him, and had a golden leaf set in the empty space with
' Kutusoff ' inscribed upon it ? The family of the Ghedi-
mins is not inferior to that of the Kutusoffs."
Ivan turned pale. The family name, " Ghedimin,"
and the Czar's crown ? One was a part of the other.
The topic was a dangerous one. High -treason might
be named in the next breath.
"My whole life I have consecrated to the Czar, gran-
ny." And then he blushed at his own words, for he had
spoken falsely. He neither can nor dare tell the truth
to living soul. His old grandmother is the only being
on earth he really loves; and her, too, he must deceive.
From morning to night his life is a lie; he must look
men in the face and lie ; must lie to baffle the spies ever
on his track, so that at night he dare not offer up the
prayer, " Incline thine ear to me, O God," for dread lest
he must lie even to his God.
" I have been waiting for you ever so long. I have
had a sharp dispute with Ihnasko, and you must be the
arbiter;" and she related the subject of their dispute.
" So now, who is in the right ?"
44 THK GREEN BOOK
Ivan laughed.
" As far as experience goes, you were right, grand-
mother ; for fortresses, as a rule, are taken by force.
But in this case Ihnasko was right, for George Csernyi
realiy did buy Belgrade for good coin of the realm. So
give the good fellow the coat, and not the whip."
The old lady nodded to her man-servant.
" Do you hear, Ihnasko ? Thus should a just judge
decide. Like Prince Ivan, he should give the servant
right over the master, if need be, even if it be over his
own grandmother. Rejoice, ye people, that your fate
will rest in the hands of a man whose lips only know the
truth !"
Ivan turned away.
" But now come nearer, sit down by me, and make
your confession. When are you going to marry ? It is
high time. Have you not made your choice yet?"
And Ivan had to answer, " No."
He could not tell her that he had been already mar-
ried three years to a woman who was so utterly heartless
that she would not be presented to his old grandmother
because she was afraid of her age and wrinkles so he
had answered, " No."
" Now you are telling me a fib. Let me feel your
pulse. Of course, it was a fib ! And why should you
not have fallen in love ? Look ! in this drawer I am
keeping a diadem for your bride ; it is the same diadem
I wore when your grandfather led me to the altar. Then
Moscow was the capital of the empire. Where this fine
palace stands were nothing but clumps of willows. Now,
your bride shall adorn herself with this diadem. Take
it; I give it you. You best know who is to wear it.
The girl you love shall be my very dear granddaugh-
ter."
OLD AGE 45
But Ivan, in truth, did not know to whom to give the
diadem. He had a wife who had no love for him, and
he loved a woman who could never be his wife. Thus
to neither could he give it.
" I will take care of it, dear granny, until the right one
comes."
" But now you will stay to supper with me, will you
not, that we may eat the last Butter-night meal together?
You are not going to be off to any bachelor drinking-
party to get into all sorts of wild company ? You will
stay, like a good son, with the old grandmother."
And so Ivan stayed to supper, and had to declare how
much he was enjoying it, when he had dined but so short
a time before, and knew all the while that in Zeneida's
palace a Lucullus-like feast awaited him. If his di-
gestion rebelled against the sacrifice, his heart made it a
thousand times heavier.
Oh, the unspeakable agony that overpowered him as
he thought how at that very time his affronted wife
would be venting her whole vengeance upon that other
woman who the world knew had thrown her soft shackles
over him, and whom he dared not openly protect, least
of all against this aggressor, his own wife ! Had the
Czar been in St. Petersburg, she would not have dared
to molest her; but, in his absence, his powerful favorite,
Araktseieff, was supreme.
To tell the truth, Ivan was glad that his absence was
compulsory. A warm, tender-hearted man, of weak will,
he was unequal to the situation. Taller by a head than
most other men, he had been chosen as a leader among
them ; but the position oppressed him, for, capable as
he was in all else, he lacked the necessary courage and
decision for the post.
What he would most gladly have done would have
46 THE GREEN BOOK
been to say adieu one fine day to all his palaces, pos-
sessions, confederates, and to Russia, and to go out
with Zeneida into the wide world to sing tenor to her
soprano. Perhaps, too, it might have come about, had
Zeneida been an ordinary artist and nothing more. But
the disquieting thought is there what may happen
to-night on that other stage? Perhaps she is destined
to mortification on the one ; but on the other ? On those
boards the blood of the actors is wont to flow.
And all this time his fond grandmother could not press
him enough to eat, as she asked news of Maria Louisa
and the great Napoleon, of the little King of Rome, and
many another who had long passed away; to many of
which questions Ivan returned such mixed answers that
the good Ihnasko was constantly exercised to set him
right, being far better informed through his newspa-
pers of all these things than was the absent-minded
Prince.
At the first sound of the bells the old lady conscien-
tiously lays down her knife and fork ; and Ihnasko, with-
out awaiting orders, proceeds to clear the table, and
spreads another silken cover over it.
It was Lent.
" Let us draw near to our heavenly Father !" whispers
the pious old lady.
Ivan kisses her cheeks, and she his.
There was a small door opening out from her bed-
chamber into the chapel. Opening this, Prince Ghedi-
min went in ; and while his old grandmother, rosary in
hand, began telling her beads, the tones of the organ
were heard, and a man's clear voice began chanting the
penitential psalm.
"What a good son and a good Christian is my Ivan
Maximovitch !" murmured Anna Feodorovna, amid her
THE EIGHT-IN-HAND 47
prayers. "And what a lovely voice he has ! He might
be one of the Czar's choristers."
And amid the sounds of pealing organ and peniten-
tial psalm she reverently thanked the Lord, and, praying
for the living and the faithful dead, fell into peaceful
slumber in her arm-chair.
The organ still continues to peal, and penitential
psalms ascend, for Ivan Maximovitch Prince Ghedi-
min is a good man, and a tender, loving son.
And yet this again is a fresh lie; for, as Ivan entered
the chapel from his grandmother's room, one of the Czar's
choirmen, who had been admitted by a secret door, was
already in waiting there, and his task it was to sing on
and play the organ until the old woman had fallen asleep.
Prince Ghedimin, meanwhile, hastily descended the
secret staircase ana passed into a masked corridor lead-
ing from his palace into the next house. There, quickly
assuming a disguise, he jumped into a sledge awaiting
him in the courtyard, and gave the coachman directions
where to drive.
Upon the Princess's return from the opera she was
informed, both by his Highness's coachman and her
dwarf, that the Prince was still at home, and had not yet
left his grandmother's apartments.
CHAPTER VII
THE EIGHT-IN-HAND
PRINCE GHEDIMIN left his secret domicile in a simply
appointed sledge, without crest, his coachman wearing
no livery. He ordered his man to drive to the opera.
At that time the capital possessed but one large,
48 THE GREEN BOOK
newly built theatre the opera-house. Here representa-
tions of the drama, comedy, and opera were given, and
often on one and the same evening, the performances
lasting, as a rule, from early evening to midnight.
It was just the period when Russians had conceived a
passion for the drama. One theatre no longer sufficed
them. It had become the fashion for the wealthy princes
of the blood to have stages erected in their own palaces,
and to have representations given by their own private
companies of Shakespeare and Moliere. Even in the
Czar's two palaces the Winter Palace and Hermitage
there were theatres, where the court actors and actresses
made their debut. One leader of fashion carried the
theatrical mania so far that he never travelled to his
country-seat without taking his troop with him ; but, the
main difficulty there being to find the audience, he had
a collection of wax figures made generals, statesmen,
and elegant women and with these figures he filled
his stalls, to give the illusion of a full house. If we add
that this theatrical company was largely recruited from
the retainers and serfs of the said magnate, there is
nothing improbable in the story that went about of him
that one night, as Othello was in the very act of throt-
tling his Desdemona, my lord in his box was seized with
a fit of sneezing, which resounded through the house ;
whereupon the dark-skinned tyrant, instantly abandon-
ing his murderous design, advanced to the front of the
stage, humbly uttered the Russian form, " God bless
your Grace," and then retreated, to proceed with Shake-
speare's ghastly deed.
Hence we may imagine the enthusiasm excited by so
extraordinary an artistic genius as was Zeneida, a child
of the people since Finland was born to Russia on the
day of Zeneida's birth.
THE EIGHT-IN-HAND 49
Zeneida was a more powerful factor than a cabinet
minister. Even in Catharine II. 's time a ppima donna,
on the Czarina's representing to her that she was draw-
ing as heavy pay as the most renowned of her generals,
had presumed to say flatly to her, " Then, your Majesty,
bid your generals sing to you."
Prince GhedimitVs great source of anxiety was not
that Zeneida might be exposed to some insult or humil-
iation at the hands of a wounded rival ; much more,
knowing her spirit, he dreaded lest she, at first sound of
a hiss, should rush forward to the footlights and begin
singing the Marseillaise, and that if rotten eggs were
thrown one moment, in the next men's heads would be
flying. It needed so tiny a spark to fire the whole mine.
His heart was beating violently as he neared the
opera-house. The clang of bells from a hundred clock-
towers drowned all other sounds ; but as they ceased a
roar rose in the long street into which his sledge had
turned. The stately avenue was simply filled with a
moving mass of people surging in his direction. What
could it be ? A revolt, or a triumphal procession ?
Hundreds and hundreds of torches cast their lurid light
over the heads of the throng.
His heart beat faster and faster. He was not a lover
of revolutions ; not one of those who grow drunk with
enthusiasm when they hear the leonine roar of an in-
surgent mass. On the contrary, his soul shuddered
within him at the thought. But he was a brave man a
man who, although heart and spirit might shrink, would
know how to clie with those to whom he had sworn
fidelity; who, although his soul might faint within him,
would walk with firm step to the scaffold for the great
aspirations with which that soul was fired. More than
one man has proved himself a hero whose soul has
4
50 THE GREEN BOOK
quailed within him before the beginning of the fight.
Prince Ivan, ordering his coachman to stop, awaited the
throng.
And presently a strange sight met his gaze. In the
very midst of the torch-lit crowd came a golden sledge,
shaped like a swan. It was Zeneida's well-known sledge.
In it was sitting the prima donna (wrapped in her costly
sables, and literally covered with bouquets, the flowers
of which were beginning to sparkle with the night frost),
drawn by a team of eight such a team as the Czar
himself had never been drawn by, since it was composed
of eight young noblemen, the cream of Russia's jeunesse
doree. On the coachman's box sat Chevalier Galban in
person.
Prince Ghedimin, springing from his sledge, joined
the procession. Among the crowd a man was pressing
and forcing his way. In him the Prince recognized one
of his wife's lackeys. Reaching Zeneida's sledge, the
man handed up to Chevalier Galban an enormous bou-
quet of hyacinths, whispering a few words as he did so.
The Chevalier, straightway standing up, called out with
stentorian voice :
" Ho, ho, gentlemen ! Noble team of teams ! halt an
instant ! Look at this brilliant trophy ! See these flow-
ers with their diamond-set bouquet-holder 'With the
expression of her admiration for our divine Zeneida
from Princess Ghedimin !' "
A thousand hurrahs resounded through the icy air,
thickened for an instant with the breath from many
vociferous lungs.
"Allans! forward, my noble steeds!" And the eight-
in-hand proceeded on its way.
A young man was standing at the back of the sledge.
As Zeneida leaned forward to take the flowers, he reached
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 51
over her so that his face, bent downward, nearly touched
hers. In such a position even a well-known face is hard
to recognize. The man thus standing whispered to her :
" Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes."
" I do not understand Latin/' she answered. " Trans-
late it into some other language for me."
And he at once, converting it into faultless hexame-
ter, said, in their own tongue :
" Ever I fear the Russian, even when with gifts he
comes."
" Thanks, Pushkin."
The members of the "Northern Confederation " called
each other by their family names, in contradistinction to
the old Russian usage, which is to call every one by
their Christian names, adding to a man that of his father,
to a woman that of her mother.
So this young man was to become the renowned Push-
kin. At that time he had no such claim ; at that time
he was a nobodv.
CHAPTER VIII
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO
IT needed a well-seasoned head to keep his wits about
him when, on entering Zeneida's palace, a man found
himself suddenly plunged into the fairy-like pell-mell,
such as is usually only to be seen at a masked ball at
the opera.
Hundreds of guests, invited and uninvited, thronged
the brilliantly lighted reception-rooms. Zeneida to-night
had been acting in the last scene of Semiramide, and it
suited her mood to carry on the part of the all-conquer-
52 THE GREEN BOOK
ing queen off the stage ; to see her admirers, her slaves,
and those she fooled, at her feet.
The whole corps de ballet were here assembled in the
dresses in which they had appeared on the stage; the
chorus and singers wearing their rich costumes of Per-
sian and Median nobles. The male aristocracy of St.
Petersburg, young and old, were there assembled. As
the hostess appeared in the ballroom, leaning on Chev-
alier Galban's arm, the band, concealed behind the bal-
cony of the gallery, struck up a welcoming overture;
the guests cheered, and those nearest pressed round to
kiss her hands.
However, things were not long destined to proceed so
smoothly.
In the middle of the ballroom was standing a police-
agent in full uniform, his helmet on his head. Going
forward to meet the hostess and her cavalier, and bow-
ing stiffly, he made a hissing sound which was supposed
to stand for Sudar and Sudarinja ("Monsieur" and
" Madame ").
" His Excellency the President of Police bids you
take notice that at the stroke of twelve to-night the
great fast has begun, and all dancing, music, and enter-
tainments of every description are in consequence pro-
hibited. Such being the case, monsieur and madame's
guests are to return forthwith to their own houses, and
monsieur and madame, the host and hostess, to retire to
their apartments. Monsieur and madame "
Here Zeneicla burst into a merry laugh ; while Galban
inwardly cursed the Minister of Police, who by his clum-
sy zeal was in danger of spoiling the excellent plan he
and Araktseieff had together made out.
Zeneicla drawing three golden-shaped arrows from her
hair, handed them to the sergeant of police.
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 53
"Go back to your chief and show him these symbols.
From them he will recognize that Assyria's queen chal-
lenges the Prince of Sarmatia to combat."
The words were over the head of the agent of police,
but he took the golden arrows.
' Then I shall be compelled to take your names.
Yours, sir, is
"Caracalla," replied Galban, readily, "and this lady
is my wife."
The police- agent duly entered in his book, " Herr
Caracallus and Madame Caracalla"; then turned to a
gentleman who had just entered, Prince Ghedimin.
"And what is your name ?"
" Rainbow. Here is my card."
It may be mentioned that hundred -ruble notes are
called "rainbows" on account of their gay coloring.
The name pleased the agent of police so well that he
evinced no further curiosity. With obsequious bow he
wished the company a pleasant evening, drank a bottle
of champagne on his way out, pinched the cheek of a
pretty ballet-girl, then hastened back to make his truth-
ful report to the President of Police that all was quiet
and dark at Palace Ilmarinen as in a church, and not a
soul waking save the house porter.
But this was not the sole interruption that night.
Scarce had the agent of police taken his departure be-
fore the organist and chaplain of the Protestant church ap-
peared. The chaplain began a honeyed speech, probably
to the effect that he hoped the lady of the house, as a
good Protestant, would not give cause of offence to the
faithful of the State religion by desecrating the first
night of so holy a fast by entertaining so motley a crew
of the worshippers of Baal.
But Zeneida did not suffer him to proceed.
54 THE GREEN BOOK
"Go back and tell your superintendent, my dear
sir," said Zeneida, "that I am holding the rehearsal
of a grand concert, which I intended to give during
Lent in aid of the building of the Protestant church-
tower.' 1
Chaplain and organist were fully pacified. Going
back they announced that the zealous and religious
lady had begun the great fast with a good work for the
benefit of the Church.
And now, at length, the cloors could be shut ; now
there would be no further interruptions from without,
and those present would not be leaving until to-morrow
night had set in.
Chevalier Galban judged it advisable to resign the
lady of the house to Prince Ghedimin.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Prince Chevalier
Galban."
"A name world -renowned. And one all-powerful
among the ladies."
"I may perhaps claim in that respect to have kept up
my reputation to-day. See, Prince, the bracelet round
this bouquet. Do you not recognize it ? And this ?"
And he drew forth from his waistcoat-pocket the silver
whistle which had formed the handle of Princess Ghedi-
min's riding-whip.
Ivan recognized his own crest upon it.
"These are the two conflicting souvenirs of this morn-
ing's stag-hunt and to-night's triumph."
" And it is you who have formed the connecting link."
Prince Ghedimin was on the point of shaking hands
with the Chevalier for having made conquest of his wife,
and thus enabling his beloved to go scot-free ; but in
this he was prevented by the young man we have heard
called Pushkin, who, pressing in between the Prince and
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 55
Galban, intercepted the intended hand-shake by a de-
monstrative embrace.
"Zdravtvujtje Galban! I am Pushkin !"
"Ah, Pushkin! Bravo! I have heard of you. You
are a Russian edition of a perfected Paris bon vivant"
" Proud of the title !" None the less, he was anything
but proud of it. You cannot offer a poet a worse insult
than to credit him with a quality which has no relation
to Parnassus. Still, Galban was no censor; he could
not know how many of the bard's great works were
lying low, massacred under the murderous red pencil.
" Proud, my dear fellow, to act Rinaldo to the St. Pe-
tersburg dare-devils, and in that capacity your modest
Epigon. Permit me, without delay, to make you known
to some of the prettiest girls of our party to-night."
So saying, he passed his arm under that of Galban,
and in rollicking fashion led him into the thick of the
throng.
The Chevalier was content. It was his immediate task
to make as many acquaintances as possible among the
malcontents here assembled. To this end the guidance
of so open-hearted and loquacious a comrade was highly
acceptable. All the same, he soon had reason to find
he had been a little mistaken in him.
The first individual with whom Pushkin made Cheva-
lier Galban acquainted was the English ambassador,
Mr. Black.
Mr. Black had only one leg ; his other was an arti-
ficial one, which, however, in no wise prevented his tak-
ing part in every country dance to the very end of the
programme. Moreover, all his movements were as auto-
matic as if head and arms were on springs, and as if he
took himself to pieces every night before going to bed."
"Mr. Black, the best fellow in the world! He neither
56 THE GREEN BOOK
understands French, German, Greek, nor Russian. In
fact, he only speaks English ; and that we none of us
know, so he is dumb to us. All the same, he is jolly
as a sand-boy. A year or two ago he had one man
about him with whom he could converse, his secretary.
Unfortunately he took the poor devil with him one day
in December, when it was atrociously cold, to the Alex-
ander Nevski church-yard, to see the fine show of tomb-
stones. A granite obelisk took the secretary's fancy
uncommonly. On the way home my fine fellow partook
somewhat too plentifully of brandy, to keep the cold
out, and froze to death. Mr. Black carted him off to
the stone-mason, then and there, and bought for him
an obelisk like the one he had admired so much."
The ambassador, guessing that his praises were being
sung, duly put in motion that part of his mechanism
necessary for bringing a smile to his face ; then shook
the Chevalier's hand violently, and without more ado
took possession of Galban's other arm. And now both
men towed their victim along, until they came face to
face with a third man, whom Pushkin introduced to the
Chevalier with the words
" Sergius Sumikoff Alexievitsch."
" Ah, the renowned conjuror ! I have heard of your
fame far and wide."
The very word "conjuring, 11 and, above all, the no-
tion of befooling others for the general amusement, had
just then become the fashion, in Paris especially of
course to be readily imitated in St. Petersburg.
" But you have not heard his latest, 1 ' broke in Push-
kin, " the story about the negro ? I must tell it you ; it
is such a joke. Sumikoff painted his face jet black, and
gave himself out to be Prince Milinkoff's black slave.
We were all in the fun, save Count Petroniefsky ; he
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 57
was to be fooled. Mungo played the piano and guitar,
spoke Greek, Latin, declaimed Schiller, uncommonly
rare acquirements in a negro slave. Moreover, he had
all kinds of interesting details to tell, among others, how,
when king in his native land, he had had his prime-min-
ister, convicted of theft, crushed to death in a mortar.
Petroniefsky, awfully taken with the fellow, goes to
Milinkoff, and offers to purchase him. Milinkoff at
first refuses ; he is his favorite slave, can't part with
him, etc. At length they settle the matter for six thou-
sand rubles. On receiving the purchase-money Milin-
koff gives his friend a hint to keep a sharp eye on the
fellow, as he is deucedly fond of giving his owner the
slip. The count answers, he'll see to that. Of course,
the very first night Sumikoff washes off his Chinese
black, and quietly takes himself off, without any con-
cealment, through the open palace gates. We ordered
a jolly supper for the six thousand rubles, and Petronief-
sky has no idea to this day that it was he who paid
the piper. He still daily routs up the unlucky police
officials to bring him back his negro."
Every one laughed, Galban, with the others, all the
time thinking, "Does my new friend really think with
such worn-out anecdotes to keep me in pawn, and pre-
vent my seeing that for which I came ?"
And he did see it. He was an adept in the art of
recognizing people from description, and amidst the
noisiest surroundings to find that of which he was in
search.
First among the crowded rooms, he made out the man
described to him as Krizsanowski, and soon after the
man called Pestel. He seemed to be all eyes for the
conjuror's clever doings, the while he was closely watch-
ing the two men to see if they accosted each other.
58 THE GREEN BOOK
Would they approach Prince Ghedimin and Zeneida ?
Neither of these things took place. Did they acciden-
tally come across each other, they simply passed each
other by without even a look ; on the whole, they seemed
rather to avoid Zeneida. In between the crowd of
merry, noisy dancers he perceived many a striking face,
yet none of them seemed to have anything in common
one with another. Now Pushkin made a proposition.
" Why should not we four have a game of ombre ?"
Chevalier Galban saw through it. Not a bad dodge
to pin him to a card-table in some dark corner for the
remainder of the night.
"Thanks. I only play hazard."
" Humph ! Strictly forbidden here."
u As is ball-giving in Lent," returned Galban, laugh-
ing.
Now a fresh procession riveted the general attention.
" The gypsies !" went from mouth to mouth.
In Russia, as in Hungary, the gypsy is the minstrel
of national song. It is curious that in Hungary instru-
mental music is the gypsies' art, while in Russia it is
singing. Troops of them go from town to town as choral
societies, and never fail at entertainments given at the
houses of the great.
The group of some four-and-twenty men and women,
clad in their picturesque Oriental costume, formed them-
selves into a circle in the ballroom, and began their
songs of wood and valley, while one of them, a girl, rep-
resented in her dance the subject of theit ^ng.
" By Jove ! come and look at our black pearl," said
Pushkin, by the aid of his friend drawing Galban into
the circle. " Bravo, Diabolka ! Show yourself worthy
of your name. Look how supple she is ! she is a very
devil ! Every one of her gestures is enticement. See
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO $9
how her eyes sparkle ! All the fires of hell are burning in
them! Enviable they who do penance there. And when,
with downcast eyes, she casts you a melancholy glance
from beneath those long silken lashes, you think she
must be on the verge of swooning. But, beware, the
tiger can bite."
The wild gypsy girl, suddenly starting from her lifeless
statuesque posture, here sprang upon Chevalier Galban,
and threw her arms around him.
" By Jove ! the comedy is well planned," thought Chev-
alier Galban to himself. " Here am I fast bound in the
arms of this gypsy. My friends, the conspirators, know
how to set about things."
" Bravo, Diabolka !" applauded Pushkin ; and in a
trice the three gentlemen had disappeared from Galban's
side ; it was unnecessary to watch him longer. Once
Diabolka's net was spun about him, he was caught and
meshed.
Chevalier Galban saw through this also. Yet he was
too much a man of the world, and appreciated pretty
women too keenly, to turn from the offered cup. Accept-
ing the situation, he led her to the buffet, to the ballroom,
to the palm-grove, everywhere, in fact, as faithful cavalier,
keeping the two men, however, always in sight. He be-
gan to observe that they whom he thus watched were also
watching him, and to feel convinced that they would not
leave the noisy, overflowing reception-rooms as long as
they saw him there. He planned a stratagem.
As he made f he tour of the rooms for the second time
with Diabolka he promised to marry her, and in sign of
the betrothal drew off a ring and placed it on her finger.
The girl forgot to ask him his name ; but she well knew
the name of the stone that flashed in the ring. It was
a diamond.
60 THE GREEN BOOK
" And when you are my husband will you come with
me to our encampment where we mend pots and kettles,
and feast on the sheep we have stolen ?"
" Not so. When you are my wife you shall come with
me into my castle. There you shall dress yourself in
new dresses five times a day, and eat off silver dishes as
if every day were our wedding-day."
" I will tell your fortune with cards ; then we will see
which is the true prophecy. Come ! Let us hide away
in some corner, where no one can see us."
Diabolka, it appeared, was perfectly at home. She
knew exactly where to press the spring in the wainscot
which should open a secret door. Within this door was a
tempting hiding-place, roomy enough for a cooing pair.
The door closed after them. In the crowded rooms one
couple was not missed. In the middle of the little re-
treat was a round table. On giving this table a twist it
sank, to come up again spread with a tempting refec-
tion, among which champagne, cooled in ice, was not
wanting.
Chevalier Galban smiled. So this was the idea. And
to make it more secure they had shut the cat in with
the mouse. Poor fools ! They think to catch a ser-
pent in a mouse -trap! Meanwhile, why not amuse
himself ? The enemy must be allowed time to get into
battle-array. They believe him disposed of already.
And now, safe from his sharp eyes, the initiated will
be betaking themselves to the place of meeting. But
where is this place of meeting ? In what hidden
portion of this mysterious building ? These and like
thoughts rush through his brain. Tschirr ! a sound
of shattered glass falling in a thousand pieces on the
table.
" When I am by your side, T forbid you to think of
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 6 1
anything else. When you can look into my eyes, do not
stare out into the wide world. Or are you afraid of me ?
Don't you drink ?"
Galban soon proved to her that he was not afraid of
her, and that he did drink. Seizing the bottle, he
drank. He may have had his reasons for thus drinking
direct out of the bottle. No sleeping potion can be
mixed with a bottle of champagne, for, once opened, it
forces its way out ; while a drug can be easily conveyed
into a glass.
Chevalier Galban's suspicion that they might seek to
disarm him by means of a narcotic is the more easily ex-
plained in that he himself was carrying a similar medium
in his waistcoat-pocket, with the idea of ridding him-
self of any inconvenient obstacle did it come in his
way.
But one cannot listen to two things at a time, the
beating of one's heart and the tick of the clock. Gal-
ban knew this from experience. He must rid himself
betimes of the dark beauty. They were drinking by turns
from the bottle. One such bottle must do the work for
her. Four-fifths of a champagne bottle standing in ice
is frozen ; the sleeping powder shaken into it can only
mix with that which remains fluid. The first who drinks
receives the opiate ; the next one, drinking the wine as
it melts, takes no harm.
Diabolka's wild abandonment suddenly seemed to
give place to a certain exhaustion ; her arms sank weari-
ly to her side ; she began to yawn ; her head fell back.
For an instant she pulled herself together as though
shaking off the inertia. She must not sleep now when
some great danger might be threatening without. She
reached out her hand for the water-jug. But the po-
tion had been too powerful. Going a step or two, she
62 THE GREEN BOOK
staggered ; in the act of pressing her hand to her head
she fell into a deep sleep. " Chain up the bear," she
stammered. She was already dreaming of the forest.
Then she fell full length on to the ground.
Galban, lifting her on to the couch, pressed the spring.
The secret door opened to his touch, and he found him-
self once more in the palm-grove. This was an amphi-
theatre, some six fathoms high, massed with the rarest
palms from India and Senegal, which in an atmosphere
of artificial heat and sunshine were being coaxed into
flourishing in a land where winter reigns nine months in
the year.
Hidden behind a giant cactus, Chevalier Galban
peered into the adjacent apartment, intent upon discov-
ering whether the men he had previously marked were
taking part in the Eleusinian mysteries. None were
visible. It was in truth a masked ball ; the ball was the
mask, and they who wore the mask were no longer
present.
Where were they then ?
All had disappeared, even Pushkin, the head and
front of the revels.
He resolved to go in search of them. It was a diffi-
cult and dangerous undertaking. It meant beginning a
search in a vast place, utterly strange to him, to which
he had no clew ; it meant avoiding any he might meet,
deceiving those who noticed him by simulated intoxica-
tion a drunken man, not knowing whither he was going;
it meant the risk of being kicked out from intrusive dis-
turbance of flirting couples. And even if at length he
find the spot whither the conspirators had retired, it is
only too probable that some watch would be kept to
warn them of the approach of a suspected person. This
watchman he must murder, his pistol at his breast ; for
AN ORGY OVER A VOLCANO 63
where a guard is necessary, a conspiracy lurks behind
the portal Then to force his way in. If the doors be
closed, suspicion is well founded. Then is the palace
doomed; if need be, razed to the last stone. If the
doors stand open, then to enter with the words, " In the
name of the Czar, you are my prisoners !" Possible
that they may overpower him, but far more likely that
they will not. A detected conspiracy is demoralizing;
to say, " If I do not return to Araktseieff by to-morrow
morning, all who are here to-night will fall into the
hands of justice," will be to lame them and bring them
to his feet. Moreover, it is his profession. One man
dies in one way, one in another. The soldier knows
the enemy will fire upon him, yet he goes forward ; the
sailor knows the sea is treacherous, yet he trusts him-
self to it. One man bows his head to the executioner's
axe, another bares his breast to the dagger. In both it
is heroism.
And suppose he should find the missing guests round
the board of green cloth, instead of round " the green
book," staking their money at the prohibited roulette-
table? Eh bien! then he would join them, and say
nothing to Araktseieff. It would not be a gentleman-
like thing to tell upon them.
In his search he had, in a measure, an Ariadne clew,
like that strewn sand which, according to the fable,
served to guide the lost child out of the wood.
Zeneida had returned from the opera in her costume
as Semiramide, her wealth of reddish golden hair inter-
woven with real pearls. When Chevalier Galban, on
her triumphal return to the palace, had assisted the diva
to remove the bashlik from her head, he had, unseen
and purposely, severed one of the strings of pearls in
her hair. For a time the thick masses of hair might
64 THE GREEN BOOK
hold them together, but it was unlikely that in moving
hither and thither one should not occasionally fall to
tire ground.
He had already picked up one in the palm-grove ; she
had, therefore, passed through there. The second he
found in a corridor; a third betrayed to him the thresh-
old of the apartments into which she had disappeared.
Where she is, there must the others be.
CHAPTER IX
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK
THE room in which the " Confederation of the North "
held its meetings was provided with double doors a cir-
cumstance by no means uncommon in Russian palaces,
in order that there should be no spying through keyholes,
no listening at doors.
The centre of the room was taken up by a massive
table, or rather a great chest, the upper part of which
formed a roulette-table.
The rolls of gold probably sovereigns (bank-notes
are not used in roulette) are laid out in rows., beside
which is placed the croupier's long scoop. Each new-
comer, as he enters, takes his seat at the table and puts
down his purse before him. But there is no play in
fact, it is a mere sham. At each arrival the opening of
the outer door sets the table in motion, the noise of the
rotary ball calling the attention of those present to the
fact that some one is coming. Thus there is no fear of
surprises.
The introductions are performed by the lady of the
house a necessary ceremony, for on this occasion there
THE HOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GRKKN' HOOK. 65
are people who have never met before accredited
agents, representatives of secret societies which have
been formed in the remotest corners of the Russian do-
minion. The president and keeper of the privy seal of
the Northern Confederation is Prince Ghedimin; the
secretary, Ryleieff, is a young poet, and agent of the
American corn trade.
Of the three brothers Turgenieff, Nicholas, the his-
torian, is present ; as well as Colonel Lunin, the pro-
prietor of the secret press; Bestuseff, Kuchelbacker,
Commandant of Artillery. There are also Vaskofsky,
Chief of the " Welfare Union " ; Muravieff, the represent-
ative of the " United Slavs "; and Orloff, the life and soul
of the " Patriots." All are distinct secret societies ; yet
all are united in one aim, " Freedom " (freedom under
the snow) their mode of procedure, action, the instru-
ments employed, wholly diverse. For this reason they
have arranged the present meeting, in order to unite the
various opposing plans into one common form of action.
To this conference they have called the president of the
" Southern Confederation," Colonel Pestel, from the far-off
shores of the Black Sea, and the still more distant chief
of the Caucasian " Barbarians," Jakuskin. But of all, he
who has come from the remotest part (for he had had to
wade through the sea of blood which separates the two
countries) was the spokesman of the Polish " Kosinyery,"
Krizsanowski. All these men wear uniforms, save Rylei-
eff, who is of the burgher class, and who wears a modern
blue frock-coat with gold buttons ; all are beardless, with
clean-shaven faces ; only the Pole preserves the national
type ; and Jakuskin, whose shaggy eyebrows join his
tousled beard, represents the wild Cossack, and seems,
by his rough, neglected exterior, to bid defiance to the
civilized world.
66 THE GREEN BOOK
There is something written on the foreheads of all these
men.
Zeneida stands by the door to receive the new-comers,
until the room fills up. Conversation is not loud ; each
seems to be conferring with the spirit which has led him
hither.
The rolling of the roulette ball is heard yet again.
" Who can still be coming ?" asks Zeneida.
Pushkin appears on the threshold.
Zeneida's countenance involuntarily assumes an ex-
pression of alarm.
" Why do you come here ?" she whispers, excitedly, to
him.
"Is it not permitted?"
" Did I not commission you to watch Galban, that he
might not take us by surprise ?"
" I found a better guardian for him. Diabolka has
got him in the mouse-trap."
" But your responsibility remains."
" I will go back as soon as I can do so without ex-
citing attention. At present, I stay here. Introduce
me!"
"What a child you are ! Are you not consumed with
curiosity to know what we are about here ?"
" I wish to take my part in it."
" What wilfulness ! Of course you imagine lives are
going to be risked, and must needs stake yours for sake
of the glory. Well, stay here. You shall see. Herr
Pushkin !" And she turned her back upon him, as if
in anger, while making the introduction.
Zeneida was the accredited agent of the whole union.
Whom she invited to her palace was received as a
"Brother"; to whom she confided any work was ranked
among the " Men " ; but to take part in secret confer-
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 67
ences and to be promoted to be a " Bojar " required a
further recommendation.
"Who else stands security for him?" asked Prince
Ghedimin.
' : I," answered Ryleieff.
Upon which room was at once made for Pushkin at
the table.
His was a fine head. The curly hair and form of the
nose recalled the African blood which ran in his veins,
one of his forefathers having taken to wife a daughter
of Hannibal, the negro slave promoted by Peter the
Great to be a general. His eyes were dark and deep-
set, yet, despite the irregular features, one could trace in
the expression a resemblance to Byron. Pushkin was in
love with Zeneida that is, he raved about her. Zeneida
was deeply in love with Pushkin, therefore she did not
want him really to love her.
A word will clear up this seeming paradox. Zeneida
knew too well that he who united his fate to hers must
inevitably meet some dark doom, in the background of
which loomed the scaffold. Finland had been reduced
to subjection by the same power against which these
secret societies were waging war, and Zeneida could still
remember her mother's tears, and the plain black coffin
brought by stealth to her home one dark night, wherein
lay the corpse of a headless man for whom they dared
not even mourn. Only when she was grown up had she^
learned that that man was her father. She loved Push-
kin far too dearly to lead him on that perilous path on
which men risk their heads. She had dreamed of a
happier, sunnier lot for him. She had long detected in
the wild, restless youth that genius that had not been
<iiven him to make the lion of a lady's boudoir a ge-
nius which belonged, not to Russia only, but to the whole
68 THE GREEN BOOK
world. A poet was not thus to be wasted. Why load
the gun with a charge of diamonds when common lead
would answer the purpose equally well, nay, better!
" Gentlemen," said Zeneida, addressing those assem-
bled. " I will first request our brother Ryleieff to read
to us the verses we are to spread among the people. To
prepare the minds of the people is, indeed, the main ob-
ject." (General applause.)
Ryleieff, the poet, a fair, slim, handsome young man,
here rising, produced the verses he had written.
It was a fine, noble-toned poem, perfectly rhythmical,
and true to every rule of composition. The rhetorical
warmth rising gradually to an impassioned climax, the
under- current expressing that deep spirit of yearning
melancholy which harmonizes so entirely with the spirit
of the people.
The poem recited, all united to congratulate the
youthful Tyrtaeus ; while Zeneida, with eyes filled with
tears, kissed him on both cheeks.
Pushkin, annoyed, looked away. For a woman to
kiss a man is the accepted custom in Russian society.
Ghedimin scarcely heeded Zeneida's action, and he cer-
tainly had the best right to demur; but Pushkin was
plainly annoyed by it. He envied Ryleieff: envied him
the kiss ; how much more the poem which answered its
purpose -faute de mieux !
" The verses are splendid !" exclaimed Prince Ghedi-
min. "We will have a million copies of them struck
off in Lunin's press, and distributed among the peas-
ants."
"You forget, Prince," put in Zeneida, "that our peas-
ants cannot read. I would suggest it were more prac-
tical to have the poem set to music, that it might be
diffused more rapidly among them. In that way it
THK HOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 69
would pass from field to field ; mowers, reapers, wag-
oners, would carry it from village to village, and what is
once sung among them never dies out. In our Finnish
Volkslieder has lived the history of the nation, the tradi-
tions of its historical life, its freedom. These no man
can take away. The Marseillaise alone raised an army
in France."
" But to whom confide the setting of it to music ?"
asked the Prince.
" Here is Herr Pushkin," said Zeneida. " He com-
poses charming melodies."
Pushkin felt as if stung by a tarantula.
He compose the melody to RyleiefFs song of free-
dom ! Subordination can be carried to a nicety of per-
fection. A state councillor, when he puts on the uniform
of a private of volunteers, may find he has to obey the
orders of his own chancery clerk and corporal ; or a
duke, if he become a freemason, have to make obei-
sance to a bootmaker, as master of the lodge ; but for
one poet to be called upon to write the music to another
poet's effusion, when he feels himself to be Caesar and
the other man Pompey, is a sheer impossibility.
Pushkin's face crimsoned.
" To the best of my belief, the words and air of the
Marseillaise were composed at one and the same time.
Rouget de 1'Isle wrote them together. Nor can it be
otherwise. The poet alone can find the fitting inspira-
tion. RyleiefFs poem is fine, very fine, but it does not
inflame and excite one. To such an end the fire of en-
thusiasm is a necessity." And unconsciously he slapped
his breast, as though to say, " And it is here."
" Do you know, Pushkin," said Zeneida, " if you are
really feeling the poetic ardor of which you speak if
you think you can compose something better than we
70 THE GREEN BOOK
have here, you could not do better than to retire into
this little side chamber ; there you will find piano and
writing-table. Give us something better suited to our
purpose !"
Pushkin was caught.
"Why not? I will write you a song which the peasant
will not need to take first to the priest to have its mean-
ing explained to him."
And with that he looked straight into Zeneida's eyes,
with a look which said, " If you can bestow a kiss for
Ryleieff's rhymes, what will you give me when I put on
paper the words that burn in my heart ?"
Rising, he repaired to the inner room. Soon the
sound of chords showed him to be deep in poetic crea-
tion. When once thus absorbed, a man does not lightly
break off.
Zeneida had no better wish for him.
As Pushkin left the room Zeneida turned the roulette-
board. The ball stopped at Nicholas Turgenieff. He
was thus made President of the Council that day, and ac-
cordingly took the chair made to resemble that of the
banker of a roulette-table.
And now Prince Ghedimin, drawing out a delicate
little polished key, which fitted into a keyhole revealed
by pushing aside a brass button, handed it to the Pres-
ident, who turned it twice in the lock. Hereupon the
copper slab, upon which the roulette-board was fixed,
slid to the other end of the long table, disclosing, in the
part thus laid open, " the green book." One single lamp
hanging from the ceiling illuminated the figures of those
sitting there, looking, by its light, like statues in a mu-
seum ; every feature seemed to gain in sharpness of out-
line ; their immobility lending character and determina-
tion to their faces ; so many historical subjects destined
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 7 I
either to rise to eminence, the idols of the people, or to fall
under the hand of the executioner. In those few moments,
devoted to silent reflection, in which each man seemed
to be engaged in studying his neighbor, many were
looking upon the other for the first time, and appeared
to be mentally comparing the reality with the ideal pre-
viously formed. The members of the Southern Con-
federation had never before met their Polish brother.
Many of them had seen Jakuskin ten years before, but
then he was a merry youth with clean -shaven face.
That has all disappeared. He is now a wild man of the
woods, who only smiles when he speaks of murder.
Leaning against the President's chair is Zeneida-, atti-
tude and figure alike recall statues of the " Republic,"
only that instead of a dagger she holds a bouquet in her
hand sent her by her rival. A dagger in disguise. Be-
sides those we have already named, the following his-
torical personages were present : the three brothers Bes-
tuseff, Prince Trubetzkoi Obolensky, Korsofski, Urbu-
seff, Peslien, Orloff, Konovitzin,Oclojefski, Setkof, Sutsin,
Battenkoff, Rostopschin, Rosen, Steinkal, ArsibusefT, An-
nenkoff, Oustofski, and Muravieff Apostol, all represent-
atives of the many wide-spread secret societies.
Ryleieff, the secretary, opened "the green book."
The President desired him to read out the business
done during the last sitting.
It concerned the working out of a plan of constitu-
tional government for the whole Russian empire; its
title " Ruskaja Pravda." It was a republic in which
every province that the Russian despot had annexed
to form one vast empire was to arise as an independent
state under its individual president Great Russia, Lit-
tle Russia, Finland, Poland, Livland, Kasan, Siberia, the
Crimea, the Caucasus ; nine republics with one govern-
72 THE GREEN BOOK
ment and one army, under the control of one Director-
ate, to hold its sittings at Moscow.
The Republic needed no St. Petersburg. Neither the
"Saint," nor the "Peter," nor the "burg" (city).
The device upon the plan was
Question : "Will Europe in fifty years' time be repub-
lican or Russian ?"
To which the answer was " Both."
This plan of constitution was painted with the colors
of a glowing fancy. First, to free every people, and
then to unite all free peoples ! None to be oppressed
by the other. Each to be left to choose his own way to
prosperity, speak his own tongue, cultivate his own land.
No more hatred or jealousy among nations.
So it stood in " the green book."
Prince Ghedimin was the first to speak.
" It is a grand idea ; but the greatest obstacle in the
way of freeing the people is that the people are uncon-
scious of their servitude. Let it be our part to make it
clear to them. Let us flood the land with catechisms of
the 'free man'; let us study the special grievances of
every race in the provinces ; learn to know their want
and misery, and win them to the cause of freedom by
promising them redress. A people suffers when it is
hungry; has to submit to blows; has its sons taken off
to be soldiers ; but it is ignorant of the yoke that is
bowing down its neck.
Pestel waited impatiently until he could speak.
"My dear Prince, your plan may be very good for
such as can afford to wait fifty years and build card
houses, which fall to pieces at every current of air. We
have not the time to devote to philosophical theories.
We count upon the army and the aristocracy. The power
once in our hands, we can take our measures to secure
TFIK HOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 73
the education of the masses. A revolution left in their
hands would lead to another Pugatsef revolt."
"And would that be a bad thing?" asked Jakuskin,
in a hoarse voice, advancing to them from the corner
where he was seated.
" It would be bad because there could be no organi-
zation. He who would carry out our scheme must be
master of the situation. In Russia, the successful leader
of an insurgent movement would only be another tyrant.
Our scheme must be carried out simultaneously, at the
word of command, throughout all Russia. No sooner
that done than every secret society is abandoned, and
we suppress all conspiracies ; and, hateful as is now the
system of police detectives, it must, in future, be raised
to an honorable calling. Every man of mind, every free
man, and every patriot must be proud to make himself
a police-agent of a free country. All this must come
about at the stroke of a magic wand."
"And what do you propose to do under the stroke
of the magic wand with the Czar and the Grand Dukes ?"
asked Jakuskin, with chilling irony.
" Make them prisoners, convey them on board a man-
of-war, and ship them off to the New World."
"Humph! to the other world! In Charon's boat,"
hissed out the Caucasian soldier; and, going up to the
table, he struck it with his clinched fist. " Hark ye, en-
voys of the North and South, members of your various
virtuous and benevolent societies, you are all on a wrong
tack , you deceive yourselves. There is but one an-
swer to the question I put to you scatter their ashes
to the four winds. I am no puling child, such as you
are. I have not covered two thousand versts to come
here and hear you thresh out your philosophical theses ;
I am here to act."
74 THE GREEN BOOK
Ryleieff here interrupted the speaker with quiet dig-
nity.
"Quite right. But you will act as the majority de-
cide."
At this call to order the vehement Caucasian's blood
boiled within him.
"Once I was young like you, Ryleieff; but that is
long past. Once I, too, believed that one only needed
to be a good man one's self to make the world better.
I, too, had then as young and lovely a betrothed as you
now have ; I was an officer in the guards, and at twenty
had distinguished myself in ten battles. And do you
know what happened to me ? The evening before my
wedding-day, AraktseiefFs son, a worthless fellow who
did not even know how to buckle on his sword, and
who had been made colonel over me, stole away my
bride. I challenged him in mortal combat, and the das-
tardly coward, instead of accepting my challenge, de-
nounced me to the Czar, and I was exiled to the Cau-
casus. As, with hell in my heart, I was taking my leave
of the city, the last thing that met my eyes was the body
of a drowned girl brought to me. It was my bride. I
kissed her. I still feel the chill of that kiss upon my lips,
and I shall feel it until the blood wipes it out, for which
I long as keenly as any cannibal. When you are in
Czarskoje Zelo look at a certain finely painted battle-
piece. Close behind the Czar you will see a youth on
a rearing horse, a youth wielding his sword high in air,
his face beaming with triumph and loyalty. That youth
was I! Years have quenched my enthusiasm; but rny
sword still swings over his head."
"And so I trust it may remain, ever wielded on high
as in the picture."
" But that it will not !" cried Jakuskin, vehemently. "I
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 75
swear it by the devil they sent into my heart as its con-
stant indweller, I will listen to naught else but my eter-
nal vengeance! You may fill your 'green book' \viih
resolutions this is my determination !" And as he
waved his arm aloft, he extracted a hidden dagger from
his coat-sleeve, and displayed its glittering surface to
the company.
Horrified, Ryleieff, springing up, drew forth a pistol
from a side-pocket and levelled it at Jakuskin's breast.
"And I swear that I will shoot you down on the
spot if you venture to assert yourself against our rules."
"Very well, then, shoot me down ! Fire away, boy !"
growled Jakuskin, tearing open his coat and presenting
his bare breast to the mouth of the pistol. " And learn
from me how to die."
" Obey the rules, Jakuskin ! Take back your word f
shouted several, as they rushed up to pacify the infuri-
ated man.
" I will not withdraw it ! You are cowards, all ! He
shall fire !" he shouted back, roughly pushing them
away.
" Gentlemen !" exclaimed Krizsanowski, the Pole,
rising.
"Shoot me down!" roared Jakuskin, continuing to
wave his dagger.
Then it was that Zeneida, drawing a hyacinth from
out her bouquet, aimed it at the raging man's forehead.
And the seasoned man, who had never known what it
was to shrink from a bullet, was so confused by this
playful projectile that, letting fall the dagger from his
hand, he put his hand to his brow.
A quiet smile passed over the faces of those present,
and before the Caucasian could recover his dagger,
Zeneida was beside him, had picked it up from the
76 THE GREEN BOOK
ground, restored it to him, and was stroking his beard
with caressing action.
" Dear friend, be courteous. Our guest Krizsanowski,
the delegate of the Polish ' Kosyniery,' wishes to speak.
Let us listen to him, and put this shaving apparatus
away !"
Jakuskin calmed clown. This delicate woman had
more than once stepped in to spread oil on the waves
of the most impassioned debates when, dagger or pistol
in hand, the disputants seemed bent on doing one an-
other a violence.
And now Krizsanowski, hat in hand, began :
" Gentlemen, I wish to bid farewell to you. I will not
enter upon the subject under discussion with you, nor
have I any desire to await the resolution arrived at. I
will not listen to the question of murdering the Czar,
still less will I submit to be bound by your decisions.
There is not one among you who has endured such
wrongs ; not one among you who carries such grief in
his heart as I. What did your sovereign, as its king, do
with your country ? He freed it from foreign conquest,
made it great and powerful, added new territory to it.
What did he do with your people ? He gave them pros-
perity and knowledge, and erected a school in every one
of your villages. What is your ruler ? A noble mind
in a noble body ' the handsomest man in all Europe,'
as Napoleon said of him and with heart as good as he
looks. And the most remarkable thing about him is
that, in every fault, in every feeling, he is a Russian to
the backbone. His only crime in your eyes is that he
is the Czar. And to you that is crime enough to make
him die. And what is my ruler, the Czar's brother, Con-
stantine ? A monster, in whose very face nature has
curiously wedded the hideous with the ridiculous ; and
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN HOOK 77
his hideous features are a true mirror of the hideous
promptings of his soul. He is what he seems to be
cruel and contemptible. In the whole extent of my
poor, unhappy nation there is not one feeling heart which
he has not trampled upon ; no article of Value, no relic,
no Church money, he has not appropriated to himself.
But a Pole would see in that no cause to treacherously
murder his king. A Pole's hand is accustomed to the
sword ; it knows not the use of a dagger. Let me take
leave of you ; I would go back to my people. I came
hither in the belief that I should find here brave men
ready for battle ; who, at the appointed hour, would
range themselves in fighting order, and declare war upon
their oppressors as do we, who fight in open battle as do
we who, in open and honorable warfare, settle on whose
side is the right. Such I thought to find here. On my
journey hither, on the way from Warsaw to the Niemen,
my predecessor, glorious Valerian Lukasinski, was being
conveyed before me he whom treachery had given over
to the authorities. He was my relative, friend, and
leader trebly dear to me. He had been subjected to
every species of physical and mental torture in order to
make him reveal the aims of and participators in the
conspiracy. They had not succeeded in drawing a word
out of him. Constantine himself took the knout from
the executioner's hands, and taught him how to use the
agonizing implement. When Lukasinski was wellnigh
flayed to death, no sign of humanity left in him, only
one mass of bleeding flesh and bones and gaping wounds,
the viceroy had him laid bound on a gun-carriage, and
had this still breathing, bleeding mass dragged to his
captivity through the rigor of mid-winter. I followed his
track guided by the drops of blood which fell on the
snow. Those frozen drops I gathered up one by one
78 THE GREEN BOOK
on the way, and placed them in a reliquary. Heaven
had compassion on the sufferer ; he died on the road.
They made a hole in the ice of the river Niemen, and
threw the body in ; the current carried it off to the sea.
I know that I shall follow him, and that my end will be
like his. Still that knowledge neither moves me from
fear or revengeful feeling to lie in ambush and murder-
ously strike my ruler in the back at any time, when he
may be sleeping, or kneeling in prayer! Our God was
never a God of murder. The dagger which struck down
Caesar but opened the door to Caligula and Heliogaba-
lus. While William Tell told Gessler to his face, 'With
this arrow I will kill you. Defend yourself as best you
can!' I do likewise. When the time comes I will de-
clare war upon my enemies, and if God is with me, I
shall destroy them ; but as long as I do not feel myself
strong enough to engage in open warfare, no oppression,
no cruelty, and no fantastic ravings shall lead me, by
any untimely revolt, to draw the cord tighter, which I
fain would loose. Your plans are untimely, unripe,
without sufficient basis-, they destroy, but do not build
up again. I know them, and will not unite our cause to
yours. Let me go."
Pestel, seizing the Pole by the hand, held him back.
" You cannot go yet ; you have learned nothing of our
intentions. What you have heard hitherto was only a
weak, academical discussion. The words this madman
said were only the ravings of his mad passion. I, too,
do not inscribe upon my shield, 'Strew their ashes to the
winds'; not because my soul would shrink from it, but
because such a dictum would scatter our several societies
like shots among a flock of birds. The people them-
selves would turn against us. To the masses the prayer
for Czar and Grand Dukes is a necessity, and were the
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 79
priest ever to leave it out, they would hang him for a
heretic. If I were to ask my soldiers, * Do you want a
republic ?' they would straightway answer, * Yes, if the
Czar commands.' We must begin at the beginning ; we
must not startle any one. The first step is the difficulty ;
the others will follow of themselves. Thus let us go
back to the point where Jakuskin interrupted us. And
you, Krizsanowski, resume your seat. The question is
the removal of the Czar and Grand Dukes their removal
only. Let them go to America, by all means. There
Russia has noble possessions ; there they can reign.
But to this end you Poles must lend us a helping hand.
For what use would it be to us to ship off the three
brothers, when the fourth, Constantine, who by funda-
mental law is next after Alexander in succession to the
throne, remains at large in Warsaw ?"
" Let us clearly understand one another, Pestel," re-
plied Krizsanowski. " We Poles have ever been, since
our first existence as a nation, ready to shed our blood for
the benefit of others. Tell me, what is to become of us
if we succeed in freeing ourselves from the Romanoffs ?"
"Form Poland into a republic."
"But your Polish republic will still be a part of the
vast Russian dominions, just as Livland and Little Rus-
sia will be ; and over us there will be some one a chief,
who is lord over the nine republics, although I know not
what title or what amount of power he will possess. And
I swear to you I do not wish for a freedom that shall be
the downfall of my country."
The deep silence which ensued proved that the Pole
had hit the right nail upon the head. There was an ex-
pression of uneasy conviction on all faces.
Then Nicholas Turgenieff, the president, rose to speak.
" Take comfort, Krizsanowski. The chief of the re-
8o THE GREEN BOOK
public, he who will be head of the nine republics, will
be no autocrat, no tyrant under any other name."
" What, then ?"
"That which he must of necessity be un president
sans phrases"
The conversation had taken place in French. These
four words had nearly cost Turgenieff his estates and
his head.
The words were scarce spoken, when the roulette-
board suddenly slipped back into its place, effectually
concealing "the green book," and the door opened.
Copper-plate and door were an ingeniously constructed
piece of machinery. If "the green book" were ex-
posed to view, and any one opened the outer door, the
roulette slid back instantly into its place.
Chevalier Galban, entering, only heard Nicholas Tur-
genierFs four last words, and saw nothing but a gambling-
table.
The banker repeated
"Je suis un president sans phrases. Messieurs, faites
vos jeux !"
One of the men playing the Pole rose from his
seat with a disturbed look
" Merci, monsieurs, e'en etait assez !"
Another, Jakuskin, drying the sweat from his brow,
struck his hand on the table
" J'ai tout perdu !"
All as if it were a real roulette-table.
The others continued cold-bloodedly ft> lay their par-
cels of gold on the numbers, seeming unaware of the
new-comer's arrival.
The hostess only advanced quickly to greet him.
" I was certain that you would find out our den ; I
kept this seat for you."
THE BOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 8 1
"You honor me too much, diva. I ought to have good
luck in play to-night, as I have just had the opposite
fate in love."
" How is that ? Did the pretty Gitanitza escape
you ?"
"Au contraire, she fell asleep. A checkmate such as
never happened to me before !"
Zeneida gave a merry laugh. No one could have di-
vined under its mask the agitation she was feeling. She
knew that a sleeping-draught had been given to Dia-
bolka.
" Come along ! let us be partners for gain or loss."
Chevalier Galban, accepting, took the seat allotted to
him ; Zeneida seated herself on the arm of his chair.
So it is a roulette-table pure and simple, and the party
assembled gamblers. There is no "green book." A
thickness of half an inch lay between him and it his
arm rested on it.
Merely contravention of a police regulation a thing
winked at by the authorities. Suppressed inclinations
will find a vent far better it should be on moral than
political domains. Nor is it any matter for wonder that
Nicholas Turgenieff should be the roulette banker. A
man may be a bel esprit, a great author, philosopher,
philanthropist, and yet have a passion for play. Even
Napoleon was a gambler.
As the game was in full swing, Pushkin suddenly en-
tered to them from a side room with flushed cheeks, cry-
ing, in a tone of triumph :
" The song is ready."
The gamblers looked askance at him.
Now he would betray all.
Lucky for them all that his eyes had mechanically
sought Zeneida's.
6
82 THE GREEN BOOK
She, still sitting on the arm of Galban's chair, glanced
significantly at the Chevalier.
Pushkin saw him.
"Let us hear it," said Galban, toying with his pile of
gold pieces.
Pushkin changed color for an instant as he stared at
him, then plunged his hand into his breast-pocket. All
followed his movements anxiously. What would he bring
out? Perhaps the song of freedom, just composed; and
would he declaim or sing it, for Chevalier Galban's edifi-
cation ? Or would he draw that which every conspirator
carried, dancing or drinking, a pointed stiletto to strike
down the traitor then and there ?
He drew out a packet of papers, smiling the while.
" Here is what I promised you, The Romance of the
Lovely Gypsy Girl. Shall I read it ?"
A romance instead of a song of freedom ? Why not ?
in order to cover an untimely appearance, the wisest
thing for a poet to do was to read or recite something,
no matter what, so that the others meanwhile could re-
cover their self-possession.
But this was no mere rhyming jingle. No sooner had
he begun than the attention of all was riveted on his
verses. The poetic form was striking and brilliant, the
thought original, the conception fine; there were fire,
passion, audacity, and beauty of expression in it, united
to a natural grace and simplicity.
No one had heard the lines before. As he finished,
Zeneida, hurrying up to him, pressed both his hands in
hers. She did not kiss him as she had kissed RyleiefT,
but the tears which flowed from her eyes were a higher
recompense. A kiss is cheap. Tears are costly.
The whole company of conspirators, forgetting alike
"green book " and reorganization, hastened to congratu-
nil. HOARD OF GREEN CLOTH AND THE GREEN BOOK 83
late the poet, who suddenly, like a comet from before
which the wind has chased the clouds, found himself re-
vealed in all his glory.
Chevalier Galban was now convinced that this was
no gathering of conspirators, but merely a select as-
semblage who met for games of chance and intellectual
and literary interchange of thought both prohibited, it
is true, in Russia for which reason they were obliged
to meet in secret.
Par exemple, such verses would be public property in
any other country, and half the world would be running
after the poet.
" Bah !" returned Pushkin, excited by the applause he
had created. " Do you not know that feebleness is the
goddess we worship, and the priest of her altar is called
the 'Censor'?"
General laughter broke out at these cutting words.
The Censor is as stereotyped a marionette in Russia
as in other countries. Galban seized the opportu-
nity to bring his talents as agent provocateur into the
field.
"Yes, indeed, ladies and gentlemen, the Censor is
a necessary evil among us. You are aware that the
Czarina Catherine II. once, at the instance of her men
of letters, commanded full freedom of the press in
Russia for three days ! It would be seen then what
fruit the tree would bear. It would have been thought
that those three days would have proved a harvest-time
for songs of freedom, prohibited pamphlets, and philo-
sophical treatises to crawl out of their hiding-places,
but the result was only an avalanche of low slander and
scurrilous anecdotes. The press was flooded with a
stream of scandalous personalities, directed against well-
known families and personages ; so that already on the
84 THE GREEN BOOK
second day of the freedom of the press the Czarina was
besieged with petitions to countermand the third day and
reinstate the censure."
No one save Pushkin deemed it advisable to accept
the proffered challenge , but he, a.s a poet, could nut
suffer the liberty of the press to be a mark for rid-
icule.
" Come, I say, Galban, if I were to tell a man who
had never tasted wine that he might drink what ran out
from the bung-hole of a cask the third day after the
vintage, that man would swear that there was no such
disgusting stuff as wine in the world."
" Messieurs, je suis un president sans phrases. Le
dernier jeu !" broke in the banker's voice, interrupting
the dangerous turn the conversation had taken.
It was time, moreover, to finish the game ; for if by
five o'clock Chevalier Galban had not left the palace,
the police would have broken open the doors, and every
one in it have been arrested. The roulette was turned
for the last time. Chevalier Galban had won six thou-
sand four hundred rubles, which he gallantly shared
with Zeneida. Then, with the customary forms of good
society, he took his leave.
The remaining company looked at one another. Ev-
ery one well knew that roulette was a mere farce among
them. It was alike Zeneida's money which furnished
bank and players. Hence the general smile which went
round on Galban's winning a pile of his hostess's money
and then courteously sharing it with her.
But there was a glow of triumph on Zeneida's coun-
tenance, as, raising the bouquet with its diamond - set
holder in her hand, she murmured, in a tone of angry
satisfaction :
" Je le payais !"
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 85
Chevalier Galban had received back the price of his
diamonds, without ever suspecting that it had, so to
speak, been thrown after him.
CHAPTER X
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR
WHEN those assembled were assured of Galban's de-
parture, Pestel began :
" My lords and gentlemen, that was very fine I mean
the romance; but it seems to me we have met to discuss
other matters. Is it not so, Cousin Krizsanowski ?"
The Polish noble shrugged his shoulders.
" I have nothing more to say." At the same time,
drawing from his pocket the inevitable meerschaum and
tobacco-pouch, he slowly filled and lighted his pipe,
which in the Eastern "language of tobacco" implies,
" I should have plenty to say, if I could only smoke out
from here certain folk who seem suspicious to me."
Zeneida, understanding his meaning, whispered some-
thing in Ryleieff's ear.
" All right," returned Ryleieff, " let us hear our Push-
kin's song of liberty. True, the fine romance you read
us entitles us to name you our Tyrtaeus. Never, since
Byron"
Pushkin did not allow him to finish the sentence.
His praises excited him to fury. A schoolboy may win
with pride the prize for the best verses, and carry it
home in triumph to his parents, but your true poet can-
not brook being praised to his face. He feels that he
has constrained your praises. Thus, if you be a woman,
throw him a flower ; if a man, give him a shake of the
86 THE GREEN BOOK
hand ; but never tell him face to face that he has com-
posed a fine poem; by so doing you repel him. And
worse than all is it for another poet to praise his work.
" Genus irritabile vatum"
"No, no, gentlemen," he cried, in wrathful voice.
" My poem is not for your ears. It is not meant for
musk-scented atmospheres, but for such as reek with
tar and tobacco. Come, Jakuskin, let us go off to some
beer-shop; that's the right place for it"
Springing up, Jakuskin held out his hand to him.
" All right, let us go to the Bear's Paw."
" Very well."
No one attempted to detain them. Between the two
doors the rest of their conversation was heard.
" Shall we take Diabolka with us ?" said Jakuskin.
" All right. Let's look for her."
" She must have fallen asleep somewhere. I will soon
wake her to life again."
In this unceremonious fashion did the guests take
their leave of their hostess. Zeneida, however, follow-
ing them, left the room.
" Now you can talk out," exclaimed Pestel, hurriedly,
to Krizsanowski. " Perhaps Zeneicla's presence has ham-
pered you. Have you anything to make known to us?"
" Yes," replied the Pole. " But it was not her pres-
ence which deterred me. Far from it. Women, when
they are in a conspiracy, know well how to keep secrets.
Laena bit out her tongue on the wheel of torture that
she might not betray her colleagues. Ever since then
the tongueless lioness has been the emblem of silence.
Oh, I reckon greatly upon our women. I would even
rather await Zeneida's return before speaking, were I
assured that she would not bring back the other two
with her."
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 87
" You mistrust them ?"
" No, but I do not like them. In conspiracies it is
not the absolute traitors who are the most to be feared.
There are three classes I dread more cowards, self-
willed and fantastic persons. The last is the most
dangerous of all, for he deceives himself, and reports
falsely. If he hear a drunken peasant swear, he re-
ports the existence of a revolutionary spirit ; if he see
a solitary deserter, he distorts him into a whole regi-
ment. He believes just what his fancy paints. If he
has filled his head with revolutionary writings he
conceives himself to be a Robespierre, and every St.
Petersburg mujik is a Paris sans culotte to him. To
the working out of a conspiracy we want no fantastic
notions ; but, on the contrary, common-sense and judg-
ment. With those two men I prefer not to discuss
matters ; the one is a fool, the other a poet."
Pestel hastily pulled the Pole's long hanging sleeve.
" Do not affront Ryleieff," he said.
" Oh, Ryleieff is. different. He can write any number
of correct verses faultless as to rhyme ; he measures
his thoughts into iambics and trochees, like a corn
merchant does his wheat into bushels and sacks. He
is master of his imagination imagination does not
master him."
Ryleieff was manager of the American Corn Company,
and being, in truth, more business man than poet, re-
ceived this doubtful compliment with an acquiescent
smile.
The party, meanwhile, had risen from the table, and
was standing about in little groups, awaiting Zeneida's
return.
Ryleieff and Krizsanowski retired together into a
corner. The Pole, smoking furiously, blew thick clouds
88 THE GREEN BOOK
of smoke about him, as though considering his rigid
features a too transparent mask, likely to betray him.
And in order not to be questioned, he began to ques-
tion.
" There are one or two points I should be glad to
have cleared up. The first spring of every great aim
proceeds from selfish motives. Freedom well, yes, is
the sun ; private aims are earth. We are upon the
earth. From mere abstract motives a new era has never
been started. My private motives require no explana-
tion ; they are expressed in two words I am a Pole.
That is sufficient ground for me to stand upon. Fraulein
Ilmarinen is a Finn. I take it that is sufficient reason
for her action. I have no fear that she will be dazzled
by the pinnacle she stands on, encircled with wreaths
and diamonds. I can also understand your moving
spring. You love your own race ; you see how it has
remained behind other nations, and would raise it to their
level. Pestel's motives also I can grasp. He has im-
mense ambition. He would fain be the head of a new-
ly formed state. The basis is broad enough ; his foot
rests on a sure pedestal. The rest are shifting, unsta-
ble, attracted to the movement by the hope of playing
some brilliant part in it. Then we have Apostol Mura-
viefT. He, too, is constrained to it by a paternal heri-
tage, from which he cannot free himself. Pushkin is in
love with Zeneida ; that, too, is sure ground enough.
That madman Jakuskin is actuated by revenge ; another
safe passion on which one may rely. His sense of
puritanical integrity binds that fine fellow Turgenieff to
us. From earliest youth he has ever been in the ad-
vance guard of freedom, first in the first rank. Such
iron rectitude can be recast in no other form, rather
it would break than yield. Now there is but one man
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 89
here whose presence I cannot understand : that is Duke
Ghedimin. A member of one of the twelve old Russian
dynastic families, his possessions so immense that he is
simply unable to expend his yearly income on Russian
soil, holding the highest grade at Court, himself an
accomplished, brilliant, sought-after aristocrat, who by
any changes you may effect has everything to lose,
nothing to gain what does he seek here? What
is his interest in making himself one of this con-
spiracy ?"
" He is the very one, among us all, who has the
weightiest reason : the recollection of an irreconcilable
affront, for it was a personal one. You know the Czar.
You know that, as a man, no one is his enemy. Even
Jakuskin merely hates in him the Czar, not the man.
Duke Ghedimin is the sole one who stands opposed to
him, as man to man. The Czar was married very
young, to a delicate wife ; his children died early. He
grew cold towards his wife, and sought compensation in
a new passion. The only daughter of one of our first
families, renowned far and wide for her great beauty,
was willing to console him. The illicit connection had
consequences a daughter. The affair was kept strictly
secret. The young duchess journeyed to Italy as an un-
married girl, and returned from there the same. Soon
after she married Duke Ghedimin. Meanwhile a young
girl was growing up in Italy who went by the name of
Princess Sophie Narishkin, and who, in her fourteenth
year, was brought to St. Petersburg. It was her father,
not her mother, who brought her here. The girl resides
in a house surrounded by a garden in the outskirts of
the capital, where her father visits her constantly, her
mother never. The father worships the child, who,
moreover, is terribly delicate. The mother simply hates
9
THE GREEN BOOK
her. Her father is the Czar, her mother, Princess
Ghedimin. Now do you see what brings Prince Ghedi-
min among us ?"
" Yes, yes. But does he know the secret of the girl's
birth?"
"Know it? We all do."
" Still, no reason why the husband should. Think a
moment. What human being is there who could go to
a man like Prince Ghedimin and breathe to him such
a foul statement about his own wife? At the least
whisper of such a slander an inferior would receive the
knout, an equal be shot. A shopkeeper may denounce
his wife ; no gentleman does such a thing. Who could
have made this known to Ghedimin ?"
" Who other than his sweetheart ! Is not Zeneicla
Prince Ghedimin's sweetheart, and has she not a thou-
sand reasons to 'enlighten him upon his wife's shame?"
" Do not believe a word of it ! She has not done it.
You do not know Fraulein Zeneida ; I do. First of all,
I do not believe she is Ghedimin's sweetheart; or, if she
love him, it is with a real love, not that of a Ninon de
VEnclos. But my belief is that she is in love with some
one else ; and I believe, moreover, that she controls
that love. She is a woman capable of defying the scorn
of the whole world, but not of doing anything to merit
her own self-contempt. And for a woman who loves a
man to denounce his own wife to him is a piece of vile-
ness only fit for the lowest of the low. You do not
know with whom you have to deal. Zeneida is playing
some far-seeing game with you. You are mere chess-
men in her hands ; one may be a castle, another a
bishop, the third a knight. Possibly Ghedimin may be
your king of chess, but she is not the queen. She is
playing the game.''
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 91
" And you have confidence enough in her to consent
to this?"
" Yes ; because I am her partner."
The roulette ball spun round. Some one was coming.
All hurriedly returned to their places. Krizsanowski
did not deserve the scornful smile with which Ryleieff
had silently received his great utterance for, indeed,
it was a great utterance "You others are only the
chessmen ; we two are the players." But so it was.
The others only saw single moves ; these two saw the
whole game.
Krizsanowski had also plainly observed although he
made as if he saw nothing with what painful anxiety
Zeneida was moved to keep Pushkin away from the
dangerous chess-board. Such a head is too costly for
a " pawn"; perhaps too precious to be staked for a whole
nation the whole world certainly in her estimation.
She had chased him away as if he were the evil
one; now she had hastened after him to prevent his
coming back. She knew that the heads of all those
taking part in the conspiracy would fall prey to the ex-
ecutioner did it not succeed, and Push kin's must not be
among them. And yet poets have their whims. Should
Jakuskin on the way reveal anything of the fateful con-
ference which had taken place round Zeneida's roulette-
table, the very charm of danger would bring Pushkin
back. If he learned that it was no mere academical
discussion, but a council of war, which was being held,
he would break open her doors to take his share in it.
Pushkin was still in the sulks. While Jakuskin hast-
ened from one cabinet to another in search of Diabolka,
he had thrown himself upon a sofa in the palm-grove,
replying to all the blandishments of passing fair ones.
" Leave me alone. I don't want you."
92 THE GREEN BOOK
" Nor me either?" asked a well-known voice, at sound
of which another, fairer, world seemed to open to him.
And Zeneida, seating herself beside him on the couch,
asked, " Are you angry with me ?"
" Confess. It was you who put Ryleieff up to in-
sulting me ?"
" In what way, dear friend ?"
" I will not submit to be called Byron ! I am Push-
kin, or no one. Men may say that my verses are com-
mon Russian brandy which gets into the head, but no
one shall presume to call them the dregs of an English
teapot. I may be only a hillock, but I will not pose as
a miniature Chimborazo. And it was your whisper to
Ryleieff that did it."
" Yes ; so it was."
" To drive me away ?"
" To drive you away."
" I am not worthy, then, to join the society of the
Bojars !"
" What care I for the Bojars and the whole Szojusz
Blagadenztoiga? 1 give them shelter and fasta .'"
"And am I not worthy to singe my wings in the fire
of your eyes ?"
" It would convert you to ice."
" Are you so cold, then ?"
" Cold as the northern light."
" Have you no heart ?"
" According to anatomy I have such a thing ; but it
has other functions than those ascribed to it by poets.
That of which you speak has, Gall tells us, its seat in
the skull, in No. 27 portion of the brain, and is not de-
veloped in my organization."
" Do not kill me with your phrenology. You know
what love is "
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 93
" I know. The compact of a tyrant with a slave."
" Be you the tyrant ; I will be the slave."
"With these words as many women have been de-
ceived as there are grains of sand on the sea-shore."
" I swear to you, my life, my very soul, are yours."
" By whom do you swear ? By Venus, so inconstant ;
by Allah, who denies that women have souls, and di-
vides the heart of man in four parts ; by Brahma, who
burns the widow on the funereal pyre ; or by the great
Cosmos?"
" There is nothing so .formidable as a woman who
takes to philosophizing !"
" That is why I do so."
" You kill every iota of poetry with it."
"Then speak prose."
" Well, then, I ask nothing of you I give. I give
you my soul, my hand, my name !"
" Ah, your name ! That is a gift. A woman like me
has diamonds, horses, houses, given her; but he who
would offer her his name is indeed rare to meet with.
And yet a name is the most precious ornament. With-
out such a name, I am nobody. Were I to marry my
groom of the chambers to-morrow, I should be a woman
of respectability. My poor good Bogumil never dreams
that in his fur-lined gloves, besides his own red hands,
lies my reputation ! So you would give me your name ?
a name which, so far, has been written on nothing
else than overdue bills and ale-house doors. You silly
boy ! Why, people would not call me ' Frau Pushkin,'
but you ' Herr Ilmarinen.' But once let your name be
written in the fiery letters of fame, instead of chalked
on innkeepers' slates, would you then unite it to an-
other whose every letter is besmeared with "
"With calumny!" broke in Pushkin, vehemently.
94 THE GREEN BOOK
" It is but just. There is nothing so bad that can be
said of me that I cannot fill in. I am selfish, unfeeling;
I have no faith in religion, nor in honor. Both are
sophistries, contradicting each other, according as the
ethnographical relations change about. The only good
is, what benefits mankind. Virtue is folly. The sole
use of good men is to be the tools of their more clever
fellows."
"Do not say such things," cried Pushkin. " When I
hear you speak so, you seem to me as if you had smeared
your face with hideous colors."
Was it not her calling to do so ?
Zeneida drew her wrap about her shoulders.
" You will not see me such as I am. I am sorry for
it ; but I cannot deceive. Have you no eyes for the mag-
nificence which surrounds me? Do you know whence
it all comes ? Would you have me forsake it all for
what ?"
" For another world before whose splendor all you see
around you must fall into dust. The world into which
I would lead you is filled with more magnificent palaces
than even yours, Zeneida. It is Paradise !"
" Find yourself another Eve. Did I love you, I should
kill you with my jealousy ; did I not love you, with yours.
To-day with one, to-morrow with another, for my ca-
prices are boundless. I know no law, no oath, no shame.
Go ; save yourself from me ! Now you are but ice, do
not wait until you are aflame. I can be his only who
loves me not!"
"Your words are mere falsehoods from beginning to
end. You wish to drive me from you that I may not
take part in the conspiracy! I am not worthy, in your
eyes, to share the dangers my more distinguished friends
are running. Let me go back to them !"
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 95
"What conspiracy?" exclaimed Zeneida, feigning as-
tonishment. "Our friends are now debating how to
introduce the American form of 'Temperance Associa-
tions ' into Russia in order to put an end to the enor-
mous consumption of brandy now going on. There is
no talk of upsetting dynasties in my house. Do you
suppose that the * court singer ' of the Czar, the court
favorite, did she hear of any conspiracy against his
Majesty, would not at once hasten to smooth her own
way to a coronet by its disclosure ?"
"A way marked out by the skulls of her best friends?"
" Well, yes."
" No. You would not do it."
" Who knows ? I have no soul, and do not believe in
the souls of others. I have no faith in a future world,
therefore I use this world so that things may go well
with me in it."
" And supposing it were to happen for a change that
things did not go well with you ?"
" Then I would give back to earth what is earth's.
The fable of the Phcenix has a deep-set meaning. When
he feels that his plumage is worn out, he changes into
ashes. Of all creatures man has the greatest right to
decide the term of his life."
Pushkin sought in the face which knew so well how to
keep its secrets what there was of truth in all this.
A sound of laughter and oaths behind the jasmine
bush betokened the approach of some noisy revellers.
Zeneida sprang up from Pushkin's side. Laying her
hand upon his shoulder, she whispered to him, in a voice
made tender by deep feeling :
" Avoid me, and seek her who is worthy of you and
truly loves you, your Muse, and be faithful to her !"
And, like a phantom, she disappeared.
96 THE GREEN BOOK
Jakuskin came forcing his way through the jasmine
bower, Diabolka with him.
" Come, let's be off to the Bear's Paw."
Pushkin sprang defiantly to his feet, and said, with a
laugh.
" By Jove ! here is my Muse ! Come along; we'll go
where we are understood."
And the three made their noisy way through the still
thronged ballroom.
It was Zeneida whose reappearance the whirling rou-
lette-ball had announced. A look from her told that the
two had taken their departure.
Krizsanowski, removing the pipe from his mouth, put
it in his pocket
" Now we are among ourselves. Let us continue."
Pestel asked permission to speak.
" In order to disperse friend Krizsanowski's fears, let
me first of all state that we look upon Jakuskin as a
fool; and that not a man of us endorses his mad views
of a Ccesariridiiim ; in fact, there is not a man among
us who would not prevent it. Our plan is this : In the
coming spring there is to be a great concentration of
troops in the Government of Minsk. The Ninth Army
Corps will march to the fortress of Bobrinszk on the
Beresina ; the Czar and the Grand Dukes will themselves
lead the manoeuvres, returning at night to the fortress,
which fortress will be guarded by the Saratoff regiment
of infantry, the colonel of which, Bojar Sveikofsky, is a
member of the ' Szojusz Blagadenztoiga.' All the officers
of the Saratoff regiment belong to our Union. At night
a patrol of officers, disguised as privates, commanded
by Apostol Muravieff and Corporal Bestuseff, will re-
lieve the guard outside the Czar's pavilion. They will
promptly take the Czar, the Grand Dukes, and Com-
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR 97
mandant Diebitsh prisoners, proclaim a constitution,
institute a provisionary government, and proceed straight-
way, at the head of the whole army corps, on the road
to Moscow. On their way they will gain over all the
troops they come across. At news of their success Mos-
cow will yield ; and from thence St. Petersburg can be
compelled to surrender. The men and officers of the
fleet, anchored off Cronstadt, are fully informed of our
plan. A man-of-war is in waiting to convey the entire
imperial family to England. The revolution will be ac-
complished without the shedding of one drop of blood.
What do you say to it, friend Krizsanowski ?"
"That your plan is too complicated; has too much
romance about it ; and that the miscarriage of any minor
detail would throw your whole reckoning into confusion.
However, 1 do not look upon a successful issue as wholly
impossible. The thing has already been achieved in
Russia. Now, I will tell you what I bring, and which
will serve to perfect your plan. Do you not agree
with me that its success were highly problematical if,
after the kidnapping of the Czar, a Czarevitch were re-
maining, who, by right of succession to the throne, could
at the head of a whole army enter Russia to test the
power of a republican government by the loyalty of
the people to throne and army ?"
"That, in truth, is the rock on which we may be
wrecked."
"Then, you may set yourselves at ease in that par-
ticular. I can promise you my head in pledge of my
words that the Czarevitch will very shortly resign his
rights of succession ; and resign after a fashion which
will make it impossible for him to recall the step, even
did he himself desire to do so. Ay, even were he the
sole remaining member of the Romanoff dynasty; and
7
98 THE GREEN BOOK
were the whole nation, senate, and peerage to press him
to ascend the throne, it would be an impossibility to
him." .
"And is this no romancing?" cried Ryleieff.
"No. Positive knowledge; psychological necessity;
logical sequence."
"Devil take me ! If that is not a greater riddle than
the Sphinx !" growled Pestel.
" I have said what I know. Whether you like to be-
lieve it or not, is your affair."
So saying the Polish magnate rose, and thrust his
pipe between his teeth, which was as much as to say
that he had said his say, and was intent on seeing that
his pipe drew well.
But Zeneida, approaching him, whispered :
" Is not the key to this riddle called 'Johanna ' ?"
A nervous contraction passed o'ver his set face at the
mention of the name.
" If you have guessed it, tell it no further," he mut-
tered under his mustache.
" I ?"
" True. You are the * tongueless lioness !' " returned
the Pole, with a smile.
At that period lanterns were a luxury known but in
few streets of the imperial city ; and where a lantern
did exist was posted a guard to watch that it was not
stolen. Therefore, in the courtyards of great palaces
huge fires were blazing, in order to give light to the
guests' sledges, and that the jemsiks might protect them-
selves against the bitter night cold. These fires gave
out warmth and light at one and the same time.
With some difficulty Jakuskin found his sledge among
the lines of others. Placing Diabolka between them,
FROM SCENT OF MUSK TO REEKING TAR <)Q
the two men wrapped her in their furs. She was too
heedless ever to think of bringing her own. The jemsik,
made loquacious by oft recurrence to his brandy bottle,
told them that the distinguished gentleman who had
driven the eight-in-hand into the courtyard had but just
gone off in his sledge, and had given his man orders to
drive to Araktseieff Palace.
That was a piece of intelligence worth having.
Jakuskin told his jemsik to drive to the Bear's Paw.
" Never fear, children," returned the man ; " I'll drive
you safely through side streets, that you may not be
robbed."
" None of your side streets," said Jakuskin, "but just
you drive along the Prospect and over the Fontanka
Ringstrasse, where the patrols are. Don't be afraid
about us, my man ; we have our pistols."
" Ah, there's no use in that, children. The robbers
might let you pass scot-free when they saw your pistols;
but the guards have no fear of firearms, and they would
plunder you."
And the jemsik was by no means joking. Under; the
police presidency not only the soldiers managed to slip
out of barracks to act the light-fingered gentry, but the
patrols shared in the spoil, and commissioners of police
were the most reliable of accomplices. Great folk only
ventured out at night with mounted escorts; their palace-
doors were strengthened with iron bars.
As they drove along the two men began scolding
Diabolka for letting Chevalier Galban escape her, tell-
ing her how they had had to get rid of him at the cost of
some thousands of rubles.
Just as the sledge turned off from the broad Prospect
into Fontanka Rtngstrasse, five armed men suddenly
sprang out upon it. Two seized the horses' bridles^ one
IOO THE GREEN BOOK
levelled his weapon at the coachman's head, the two
others fell upon the occupants of the sledge. All were
armed with swords and pistols, their faces concealed by
masks ; long sheep-skins covered their persons from head
to foot; their tall, pointed fur caps alone betraying them
to be not only soldiers but grenadiers. One of them,
speaking in French (consequently an officer), ejaculated :
" La bourse ou la vie, messieurs !"
On which Diabolka, suddenly springing up, jerked the
pistol directed at Pushkin's head out of the assailant's
hand, and, throwing both arms round his neck, began,
coaxingly :
"Ei, ei, sweetheart, cousin! would you plunder poor
folk like us ? Don't you know us, then ? Look ! this is
the brave Jakuskiri, a captain on half-pay; this, Pushkin,
who has more creditors on his heels than kopecs in his
pocket. I am Diabolka, who pays, and is paid, in kisses.
Here are a few on your cheeks, eyes, lips. There,
take as many as there is room for. But if you 'are
wise, and want to make money, there's a rich gentle-
man just now on his way home from Araktseieff Pal-
ace, who has just pocketed thirteen thousand rubles at
roulette. If you are quick you'll catch him up on the
ice, crossing the Fontanka. He is wearing a red fox
coat, trimmed with white bear-skin."
Her words were as magic. With one accord the four
thieves, deserting sledge and their leader, took to their
heels in the direction of the Fontanka, as if they were
possessed. The officer, too, seeing himself thus left
alone, endeavored to free himself from Diabolka's em-
brace. But that was not so easy.
" Stop ! just one kiss on the tip of your nose."
Then he, too, was suffered to follow his companions.
Diabolka laughed unrestrainedly.
FROM SCENT OF MU*K* TO HEFKINO TAR IOI
" Ha, ha, ha ! what good the consciousness of a meri-
torious action does one ! They are safe to clear out
Chevalier Galban."
" But you might have let the fellow off the last kiss,"
growled Jakuskin. "On the tip of his nose, too! As
though he could feel it through his mask!"
" But those kisses were useful," returned the girl, with
a sly wink. " While kissing him, I was spying what the
dear youth was wearing upon his breast, and this is
what I found." And she held up a star set with dia-
monds.
" Eh, the devil ! Why, it is a Vladimir order of the
first class," exclaimed Jakuskin.
" Our Rinaldo is high up in the army." .
"A Vladimir order set with brilliants! Eh, jemsik,
hold hard, and strike a light. The names of owners,
as a rule, are usually written in gold inside the ribbons
of the orders."
The jemsik, taking out his flint and steel, struck a
light, and while Diabolka puffed at it with distended
cheeks, the two men simultaneously read out the name
engraven on the ribbon " Jevgen Araktseieff."
" By Jove ! The son of our trusty Araktseieff, too,
plies the trade," cried Jakuskin.
" He is a known mauvais sujet"
"Well, Diabolka, this is a fine catch. For this you
may claim to-morrow every penny Jevgen has robbed
overnight."
" And next day I should be as poor as ever," laughed
the girl.
" If you chose, this order might make you Jevgen's
wife a real countess," put in Pushkin.
"What would 'be the good of that? In a week after
I should be going back to the gypsies."
1-02 THE GREEN BOOK
" Do you mean to expose him to have him hanged ?"
"I am not such a fool; they would hang me beside
him. Leave it to me. I know what to do with my prize."
Jakuskin said to Pushkin, in German, that Diabolka
might not understand :
"That man wrecked my whole life; and I had him
at my pistol's mouth but now ! But the ball is destined
for another now. You see, I did not even break out
into fury when I read his name. When we are on the
watch for bears we can afford to let foxes go. The
huntsman's spear is on his neck. He is in Diabolka's
clutches. Come, let us go to the Bear's Paw, and
hear Germain's new effusion, The Song of the Knife"
CHAPTER XI
THE HUNTED STAG
NEXT morning the Office of the Great Fast was initi-
ated in Isaac Cathedral by the court singers a cele-
brated choir of men and boys, who possessed the finest
voices in the whole empire, and who were maintained
at great cost.
Contemporary accounts extol these services beyond
anything ever produced by human voices. In his riper
years the Czar could endure no other music than the
sound of harps and mystic sacred song. It was on that
account that Zeneida Ilmarinen, the church singer, was
so great a favorite of the Czar. He never went to a
theatre. Did he desire music his favorite artiste was
commanded to the Winter Palace or the Hermitage.
During the fasts, however, he went daily to church to
hear the boys sing.
THE HUNTED STAG 103
On such occasions it was considered the correct thing
by the aristocracy also to go to church , and in order
to appear still more devotional, great ladies made a
point of wearing no rouge, only powder.
In the row next the high altar sat Prince Ghedimin,
Muravieff, Orloff, Trubetzkoi, all of whom had inscribed
their names in "the green book"; after them, those
officers of the guards who had deliberated the previous
night whether the Czar should die, or be merely banished.
There they stood in two rows, erect, with military bear-
ing, holding their drawn swords in their hands.
The heads of all were bowed so low that perhaps
none remarked that the husband and wife, the rulers
of all the Russias, only extended a finger to each other
as they passed up the aisle, deigned no look at one
another as the service proceeded, and exchanged no
word together as they took the holy-water.
Zeneida also was among the congregation. As she
left church an officer bowed to her. It was Pushkin.
" Madame, you have been weeping your cheeks are
wet. Was some one, then, in church ?"
"There is no some one," returned Zeneida; "but the
music tells on one's nerves. We are but animals ; even
dogs howl when they hear music."
" Did you observe with what devotion the Czarina
kissed the crucifix ? Did you not know what was her
petition ?"
" I neither know, nor did I remark anything."
It was late before the church service had ended.
The congregation quickly dispersed and hastened home.
The streets were deserted. On the first day of Lent
every family man makes a point of supping at home.
And as among the poorer classes in St. Petersburg only
about every seventh man is blessed with a wife, others
104 THE GREEN BOOK
join together and get some female of their own class
in life to prepare the Lenten soup for them. This is
seen on every table, rich and poor, whether in hardware
vessel or delicate china tureen. Even upon the Czar's
table it may not be absent ; the imperial cook prepares
it according to time-honored formula.
This soup every head of the family is expected to
partake of in his own home. Time was when even in
the Winter Palace the custom was observed. Time
was ! The table was laid for two covers only; no guests
were invited. The many dishes, all prepared with oil
and honey, were served for the two alone. Then came
a day when the imperial wife awaited her husband in
vain at the Lenten meal. He came not. And yet she
waited and waited; the supper waited also. Some un-
toward circumstance had come between them. First
the meats grew cold, then their hearts. Yet all the same,
year after year, the wife had two covers laid on the first
evening in Lent, and waited on and on, until the dishes
grew cold, and still she did not touch them. She was
waiting for him. Hours would pass, the imperial wife
sitting lonely, waiting, listening for the slightest sound,
wondering whether it were not her husband's footstep
outside the tapestried door which connected the corri-
dor of their apartments that door, at the opening of
which her heart had formerly overflowed with earthly
bliss. Alas ! now the lock had long grown stiff and
rusty. Suddenly the clock began to strike a mechan-
ical clock which Araktseieff had had made in Paris.
The piece it plays is the National Anthem ; it plays it
but once in the twenty-four hours at one o'clock in the
morning the hour at which Czar Paul had been mur-
dered by his generals and nobles in his bedchamber.
The son of the murdered man, who had ascended the
THE HUNTED STAG 105
throne over his father's dead body, had, at the turn of
the year, listened for many an anniversary to the sol-
emn strain, kneeling low, bedewing his prie dieu with his
tears; and one being there was who fully shared the
sorrow of his heart. With every fibre that heart of his
vibrated to the sad notes, a truer timepiece than the
clock : it attuned its note to the triumphant strains of
victory, as to the undertone of sadness when it re-
proached him that his father's corpse had been his
stepping-stone to the throne, threatening that his body,
likewise, should be the stepping-stone to his successor.
This was the great trouble of his life ; the ever-present
torture of his soul. To no one had he confided, it save
to his wife. No one had ever comforted him in the
hours of his agonized wrestling with that burden of
grief save his wife. Now that is all over. The soul-
destroying blue eyes, in whose depths he had sought a
new heaven, gave him for heaven the cold, blue ether
eternally separating earth from heaven for him. The
Czar of all the Russias has no one in whom he can
trust. The mightiest of the mighty has no place where
he may sleep in peace. The most forlorn pilgrim of the
desert is not so utterly alone as is he.
When the last notes of the hymn has died away, and
the husband, so long waited for, has not returned, the
wife, rising, fetches a portrait of him painted upon ivory,
and places it upon the table by the place he should have
occupied. It is the portrait of a proud, heroic man, with
smiling lip and unclouded brow such as he was as a
bridegroom. She gazes at it long, so long that her eyes
are suffused with tears. Nothing is left to her of him
but this portrait. He whom it represents has long ceased
to smile.
Two sledges, already horsed, are drawn up before the
IO6 THE GREEN BOOK
colonnade of the Winter Palace. One is harnessed
with six horses, the other with three. Both are closed
carriages with drawn 'blinds. The coachman and foot-
men belonging to the six-in-hand wear the livery of the
Czar ; those of the three-horsed sledge that of the Grand
Duke. But, on getting into them, the Czar takes the
Grand Duke's sledge, the Grand Duke that of the Czar;
and as they pass out of the gates, with jingling of bells,
the one sledge turns to the right, the other to the left.
The six-horsed sledge is followed by an escort of the
guards ; where it halts, there halts the escort. The
three-horsed sledge skims along the road unattended.
It is known that the Grand Duke drives home direct ;
he is a domesticated man. But of the Czar none knows
whither he will take his way in the course of the long
night; and nowadays it behooves one to be careful ; an
escort has become a necessity !
Araktseieff had had a sharp tussle that very morning
with Chulkin, Chief of Police, and the governor of the
city, Miloradovics. There were three sets of police on
active duty military, civil, and secret police. And in-
stead of playing into each other's hands, their sole study
seemed to be for each to set the other's regulations at
naught. Araktseieff was furious at Chulkin because
Chevalier Galban had been set upon and robbed the
previous night, not only of his money, but of his papers
papers, among which were many important state se-
crets. To which Chulkin had retorted that the soldiers
on patrol had been the thieves. Hereupon AraktseiefFs
wrath was turned upon Miloradovics, and he demanded
that the officer in command, who had had the inspec-
tion on the night past, be sternly reprimanded for lack
of supervision. To which the governor returned that
the said officer in command was no other than young
THE HUNTED STAG 1 07
Araktseieff, his hopeful son. Hereupon Araktseieff
waxed still more wroth; but with whom? He fully
believed that his son had been' Chevalier Galban's
plunderer, well knowing him to be capable of the act.
He made no further official inquiry into the matter,
merely adding that in future the Household Regiment of
Hussars, under his own immediate command, were to ac-
company the Czar, at a distance, whenever he left the
palace. No reliance, evidently, was to be placed on
either infantry or police.
Araktseieff possessed a sure instinct which warned
him of conspiracies against the Czar, even when he
failed to obtain any certain clew. His was the sole and
ever-watchful eye that guarded the person of the Czar.
He gathered upon his head the detestation of a whole
nation in order to protect the head of the one man in
whom his entire individuality was merged.
But the pursued knew how to elude protector as effi-
ciently as pursuer. Whilst thus secretly escorted, the
six- horsed sledge proceeded from barrack to barrack,
the Grand Duke probably holding an inspection to satisfy
himself that the officers on guard had not removed their
tight stocks ; the three-horsed sledge glided along the
banks of the Moika Canal, drawing up, at length, before
a long walled-in enclosure set with iron spikes. Alight-
ing from his sledge the Czar took from his breast-pocket
a key, opened the gate, and entered unattended, the un-
lit path marked by a line of oak-trees. No footprint
was to be seen on the fresh-fallen snow. The path was
unused by any but himself. In among the trees with
their crows' nests an old-fashioned house was visible, its
wooden steps leading to a low oaken door. The solitary
man has with him a key to this door also ; he opens it,
and enters. Here it is so dark he has to take a lantern
108 THE GREEN BOOK
from his pocket in order to find the stairs leading to
the story above. Having ascended the stairs, he pro-
ceeds on tiptoe down a long corridor. There is not
even a dog to bark at him. As he opens a door two
persons, engaged in conversation, look round in startled
fear. They are an old man and woman. The old wom-
an screams; the old man throws himself at the Czar's
feet.
"Who is this man, Helenka?"
" My old man, my husband. Hold up your ugly pate,
Ihnasko, that the Czar may see who you are."
" You never told me you had a husband."
" Why should one tell of the gout one is plagued with,
or any other ugly thing one would rather forget ?"
" Well, what does he want here ?"
Here the old woman, covering half her mouth with
her hand, whispers :
" He has brought the king's daughter here."
At these words the icy look melts from the Czar's se-
vere features.
"What! Bethsaba here?"
"Yes; and she is to stay the night. They are play-
ing draughts together."
" How is Sophie?" The inquirer's voice falters.
" Fairly well. She slept well last night, and took her
chocolate this morning. She has not been so cross as
usual to-day, since the doctor told her that giving way
to temper was bad for her."
" Has she followed the doctor's directions ?"
" Rather too closely. If I am a second after time in
giving her her medicine, she rings for me."
" Did the doctor say anything about diet?"
" Yes ; he said her Highness was not to observe the
fast, but to eat meat and eggs daily; and that will
THE HUNTED STAG 109
strengthen her. But the Princess gave it him soundly.
What was he thinking of ? Did he mean to endanger
her soul for sake of her body? And she has ordered
me to pay no attention to what he said, and has threat-
ened me with blows if I attempt to deceive her."
"Indeed! And the doctor said that the observance-
of strict fast would be injurious to her health ?''
''Certainly. He said she wanted blood, she was
anaemic, and that beans cooked in oil did not make
blood."
"What have you prepared for her supper to-night?"
" The usual soup for the fast."
"Just oblige me, my good Helenka. I have brought
something with me which will do our invalid good. I
have had it over expressly from a celebrated physician
in England. Give her a spoonful of it daily in her soup."
" Of course I will do what you command, sire. But
tell me first, is it prepared from the flesh of any animal ?
For if the dear soul were to find out that I had mixed
any meat preparation in her soup during the fast, she
would cry and rage to that extent that she would make
herself ill again."
" Do not be afraid, good Helenka. It is a remedy
composed of palm-root, which takes the place of meat."
"And I shall not endanger my own soul by using it?"
" No, no ; have no fear. I will take all responsibility
upon myself."
And yet were it an unpardonable sin to eat meat dur-
ing Quadragesima the Czar had laid a great burden
upon his soul, for his remedy was no other than extract
of beef, at that time the patent of an English chemist.
But the Czar was a philosopher and a father.
"Go in and tell her I am here, that she may not be
startled at my coming."
110 THE GREEN BOOK
By a lamp, whose light was tempered by a lace shade,
sat two young girls playing draughts.
The one we have already seen at the noteworthy stag-
hunt; and now we know her to be a "king's daughter."
As the Czar entered the Princess's room, and Ihnasko
was alone with his wife, he could not refrain from ask-
ing
"What did you mean by 'king's daughter' ?"
"Slow coach! Don't you know that yet? She has
lived the last eight years in your house without your
knowing that she is the daughter of a Circassian king.
Her father was once a mighty ruler there, where the
currants and olives grow ; he was killed by the Turks,
and the Queen brought her crown and her little
daughter, and fled to us for protection. She was a
wonderfully handsome woman. I saw her once in all
her national costume at a New-year's review. I did
not wonder at what had happened. It was General
Lazaroff who had received orders to bring her from
her own country to Russia. The General was a man
of amorous nature. On one occasion the wine he
drunk flew to his head, and he forgot that he was es-
corting a queen, and only saw the lovely woman.
But the Circassian butterflies have stings as sharp as
any bee. The Queen drove her kindzal into his heart,
and he fell down dead at her feet. Not much was
made of the affair; it was hushed up. The Queen was
put into a convent, where she has always been treated
with royal honors. But she is not allowed to leave
it. Only on New-year's day she takes her place
with the widowed Queens of Imeritia and Mingrelia
on the steps of the throne. As for her little six-
year-old daughter, she was taken from her, that her
royal mother might not teach her to follow her ways.
THE HUNTED STAG III
Why, there would not be a man left in St. Petersburg!
The child was intrusted to Princess Ghedimin's care,
who has not the blessing of a child of her own."
"What child?" blurted out Ihnasko.
" Oh, you goose! What a question to ask! What
child ? None at all, seeing she hasn't got one. Don't
wink at me, or you'll get a cuff in the face. So the
king's daughter was brought to Ghedimin Palace, and is
now a member of the family. Forgetting her own moth-
er, she looks upon the Princess as one."
' u I should just like to know why the Princess sends
her here to visit your sick princess ?"
"That's nothing to do with your thick skull."
The other draught-player is Sophie Narishkin, a tall,
delicate-looking girl with straw-colored hair. It is well
that she is kept in strict retirement, for in face she is
the image of what Princess Ghedimin was at that age.
There is an expression of premature wisdom in her coun-
tenance blended with that of superstitious fear. Her
eyes wear a softer look than those of her prototype ; in-
stead of Princess Ghedimin's haughty, contemptuous ex-
pression, hers are dreamy and melancholy.
What can be a maiden's dreams who knows nothing
of the world ? The world, peopled with mankind. She
may dream of lovely landscapes, of rocks, woods, water-
falls. But of the beings who people the world she
knows none save her nurse, to whose fairy tales she lis-
tens so eagerly, and her governesses, who had vainly
striven to indoctrinate her into the sciences and fine arts.
All spoiled, no one loved, her.
All around were traces of work or play, begun and
left unfinished draught-board, cards, chessmen, pa-
tience, embroidery, drawings, patterns. She is sitting, in
112 THE GREEN BOOK
a white embroidered dressing-gown, upon a wide divan,
both feet drawn up under her. Beside her sits the Cir-
cassian Princess on a low stool.
His Imperial Majesty is received ungraciously. Evi-
dently he has interrupted the two girls in some amuse-
ment. And yet he seems to have the right to go up to
Sophie and, taking her face between both hands, to im-
print a hearty kiss upon her cheek a kiss the traces of
which the girl, with childlike coquetry, instantly tries to
remove by means of the sleeve of her dress, which has
the effect of making the offending cheek as red as a
rose.
" How are you feeling, my Madonna ?"
" Oh, now you have come and interrupted the lovely
story Bethsaba was teljing me !"
" She shall go on with it. I will listen too."
" How can you, when you were not here at the begin-
ning?"
" I know Bethsaba will not mind beginning it again."
The Princess nodded acquiescently, while Sophie, with
a look, directed her father to take a seat at the other end
of the divan. The Czar, understanding the look, did
as he was bid ; and, taking one of the girl's delicate,
transparent hands in his, stroked it, and, as he did so,
succeeded in feeling the pulse, to assure himself that
there was still hope for her. He wanted to put a
question, but the delicately pencilled eyebrows com-
manded silence, and the Ruler of All the Russias was
obedient.
" Once upon a time'," began the king's daughter, " there
lived on the Caspian Sea a mighty king who took a lovely
woman to wife, not knowing, when he did so, that she
was a fire- worshipper. Now, fire -worshippers are in
league with the Jinn (spirit), and the queen had prom-
THE HUNTED STAG 113
ised the Jinn that if she married and bore a daughter
she would give her to him when grown up. No sooner
had the child become a maiden than the Jinn came and
knocked at the king's door to claim her. The poor
king was terribly frightened when he was told that the
spirit had come to fetch away his daughter "
" If he was a king, why could he not command the
spirit to obey him ?'' broke in the sick girl, angrily.
" Ah, my dearest, the spirit is so powerful that no king
can control him."
"And no emperor T
" No, not even emperor. No one has power over
him ; but he has power over every one. There is no
locking him up or shutting him out, for he can penetrate
everywhere. He has no material weight, yet can suffo-
cate ; carries no sword, yet can kill."
"What a good thing that the spirits only live on the
Caspian Sea !"
" When the king heard this he began to entreat the
spirit not to take his beloved daughter from him so soon ;
to grant her to him yet another year. 'Very well,' said
the spirit, ' I will leave you your daughter a year longer
if you will promise to give me your thumb in exchange.'
The king cared nothing about his thumb, so he prom-
ised, and the spirit took his departure. At the lapse of a
year the spirit came again either to take the princess or
the king's thumb. The king loved his daughter very
dearly, but he also valued his thumb, for without it he
would not be able to draw a bow. So again he entreated
the spirit that he might grant her to him only one year
more. ' Be it so,' returned the spirit, * I will leave her to
you another year, but then either I will take her away
or you will give me your right hand.' And the king
again closed the bargain. A year passed, and the spirit
114 THE GREEN BOOK
came a third time. The king would neither give up his
child, nor would he part from his right hand. There-
upon the spirit demanded the king's whole arm as for-
feit."
" But, then, do the spirits never die ?" asked Sophie.
" No, darling, the spirits live forever. Well, the king
promised him his arm if by that means he might save
his child and his hand. And from year to year the
spirit came back, demanding ever more and more as
forfeit-money. At last he obtained promise of the king's
head and heart. And when the king's whole body be-
longed to him he said, 'This is the last year. Now I
shall either carry off your daughter or you must promise
me your shadow.' Upon which the king replied, ' No ;
I will give you no more. Take what is yours ; but neither
my daughter nor my shadow shall you have.' Thereupon
the spirit left him amid loud claps of thunder. The
next day was fine and sunny, and the king set out for a
pleasure sail upon the sea. Suddenly a violent storm
arose, and engulfed both ship and king in the waves.
His body was never found. His daughter still lived on;
and every evening, when the sun was going down, she
saw a shadow draw near to her the shadow of a man
with a kingly crown upon his head ; and as the shadow
glided past her it seemed to her as if she felt a kiss upon
her cheek, and as if her cheek became rosy red."
The Czar had grown thoughtful. That king, whose
shadow alone wandered upon the face of the earth, was
so like to himself. And Sophie, too, thought that she
was like the king's daughter kissed every evening by a
kingly shadow.
Bethsaba, however, added, playfully, " We have so
many such legends with us. I could tell you more than
a hundred."
THE HUNTED STAG 115
"It is a very sad story, my dear child," said the Czar.
"I like stories that have a sad ending," said Princess
Sophie. " Those that end, ' And if they are not dead,
they are alive to this day,' I cannot endure. I like
books, too, to end badly; but the doctor says I must not
read. But little Bethsie knows such a lot of nice stories."
" Have in your supper now. Are you not hungry?"
" Oh, who wants to be always thinking of eating ?
Besides, we are eating all day long." And Sophie
pointed to a box of bonbons, from which a few had been
taken.
" But you ought to eat nourishing things, to make
you strong."
" Who says I am ill ? Give me my hand-mirror. Have
I not color enough ?"
" Yes, you have a good color. You are really looking
well to-day."
'* Phew, phew !" she exclaimed, spitting twice behind
her. "One should never tell anybody they look well;
it is unlucky. Now let us lay the table for supper."
The mighty ruler was quite ready to act the lackey to
the pale child with the weary eyes, in whom his whole
soul was concentrated. But, with the best, of will, he
did it awkwardly ; it was plain he was not learned in the
art. And Sophie scolded him roundly.
" See how badly you are holding that plate ! Did
one ever hear of placing the spoon betwixt knife and
fork like that? No, the salt must be turned out upon
the table ; it is not to be put on the table in the salt-
cellar; for if the salt-cellar should happen to be upset
it is unlucky. You must not stick in the point of the
knife when you are cutting bread ! First make the sign
of the cross over it, or Heaven will be angry. To think
that such a big man should be so clumsy !"
Il6 THE GREEN BOOK
Meanwhile Helenka had brought in the Lenten soup.
Sophie tasted it, then laid her spoon down.
"There is something different about it. You have
smuggled some meat into it. I will not eat it ! You
wanted to deceive me ! You wanted to make me eat
meat soup !"
The Czar, tasting the soup, assured her that it had no
taste of meat. But the sick girl, angry at the mere sus^
picion of being tricked, sent all away untouched, and
vowed she would eat nothing but sweets. The Czar
implored her not to spoil her digestion with such trash ;
whereupon, bursting into tears, she complained that
they would let her die of hunger. At length the Czar,
sending for the samovar, made her some tea with his
own hands, and, breaking some biscuit into it, begged
her to try it. And great was his joy when she said it
was "very nice." She ate a whole biscuit; dipped
another in it, ate a piece of it, and gave the rest to the
Czar for him to taste how good it was. Then, letting
him take her upon his knee, she laid her head upon
his shoulder, and seemed inclined to sleep. Soon she
asked him to carry her to bed and unplait her hair ;
then, winding her fingers in the Czar's, she said her
evening prayer ; and when it came to " Amen " her
virgin soul seemed to breathe itself away upon the Czar's
lips.
She was the sole being in the world he could call his
own ! Among his forty millions of subjects she alone
belonged exclusively to him.
The Czar of All the Russias found so many little
things still to do for his sick child. There was a cushion
to be warmed to be placed at her feet ; orange-flower
water to be prepared for her night drink. He pushed a
branch of consecrated palm under her pillow to chase
THE HUNTED STAG 117
away bad dreams he, a philosopher, believing in the
efficacy of a consecrated palm branch ! But philosophy
is nowhere by the sick-bed of one's child.
"Now, you go home," whispered Sophie; " Bethsaba
is to sleep with me. Good-night. I know I shall have
no bad dreams."
" Lay your hand upon my head, that I, too, may sleep
we.ll. Good-night."
They called one another by no endearing names,
though they knew that in the whole wide world they had
no one but each other.
It was past midnight when the Czar went back to his
sledge too early to go home.
" Drive along Newski Prospect," said the Czar.
The coachman understood the command. Upon
Newski Prospect there is a two-storied house with
'* Severin " upon the door. Here the coachman drew
up. The windows of the first story were lighted. On
ringing the bell, men-servants with lamps promptly ap-
peared, who led the great Czar to the master of the
house. Herr Severin was a simple paper - maker and
printer, carrying on his business with his sons and sons-
in-law, who, with their families, lived here with him.
Upon great festivals it was the Czar's custom to indulge
himself for an hour or two with the sight of their simple
family life and joys such joys as were denied to him.
The tiny children recite their verses to grandpapa, who
rides them upon his knee ; converting them into generals
by dint of paper hats and wooden swords. The Czar
has no such generals ! Then five or six of them, form-
ing into a circle, dance round, and sing the story of the
"Ashimashi Beggars," each striking up in a different
key. No such choir does the Czar possess ! At sup-
per every dish is so well cleared out that it would be a
Il8 THE GREEN BOOK
puzzle to say what it had contained. Such a feast the
Czar cannot give ! And supper over, the favorite game
of " Clock and Hammer " is brought out. They play
for high stakes nuts ; and the stakes are eaten while
the game is played. The Czar has no such national coin !
So he sits among them until the little ones, growing
sleepy, are carried off to bed by their nurses ; first kiss-
ing everybody even the Czar. No such thing happens
in the Winter Palace !
When that is all over, the distinguished guest has a
long talk with the old man over the good old times.
He listens to all the joys and sorrows of his host's
every-day life. The samovar is emptied and filled again.
The Czar cannot tell what does him so much good
whether the tea, the cakes, or the good old man's in-
tegrity his honest, straightforward spirit. No such tea
does the Czar taste in his own house !
Without, on the snow-covered roads, gallop the escort
of the guards, while stealthy conspirators peer out from
dark doorways, and look after the six - horsed sledge,
pistol and knife in hand.
The hunted stag knows nothing of all this !
None may tell whither he has wandered through the long
hours of the night, nor who it is that so persistently tracks
him.
CHAPTER XII
HOW A FORTRESS WAS TAKEN
" LOCK and bolt the doors, and see that you let no
one in ! To him who doubts that I am not at home,
say I am dead !"
" And suppose it's some one to bring you money?"
HOW A FORTRESS WAS TAKEN I 19
"There's no man living who would do that."
" And if it's a love-letter ?"
"Let him push it under the door; but don't let him
in ! For it might prove to be some rascal of a creditor."
Unnecessary to state that this dialogue took place
between a young officer and his servant. It may, how-
ever, be as well to add that the said young officer was
Pushkin.
With heavy head and light pockets he had reached
home in the small hours, and, dressed as he was, ha'd
thrown himself on his bed, feeling as if each individual
hair in his head were being torn out by a devil with red-
hot pincers.
Suddenly he was aroused from his uneasy slumbers by
a hideous noise of scuffling and quarrelling in the street.
A man beneath his windows, seemingly set upon by ruf-
fians, was screaming loudly for help, and no one going
to his aid. Why should they when the police did not
trouble themselves about private disturbances?
Pushkin could stand it no longer; going to his win-
dow, he breathed upon the frozen pane to clear a space,
and looked out. Two men were belaboring a third, who
was vainly endeavoring to defend himself, his face cov-
ered with blood. One of his assailants gave a tug at the
long beard, worn divided in the middle, plucking out a
handful. That was too much for Pushkin ; the sight of
such brutality made his blood boil. Snatching his dog-
whip from the wall, he tore down into the street. In
vain his man cried after him, " Don't open the door,
sir;" he was out like a shot, and, plunging into the
middle of the trio, began laying his whip upon the two
offenders right merrily, upon which they quickly took to
their heels ; and Pushkin, raising in his arms the injured,
groaning victim of their brutality, carried him into his
120 THE GREEN BOOK
house. Reaching his room, he sent for cold water and
a basin, that the poor fellow might bathe his face. This
he proceeded to do so effectually that not only the ver-
milion dye stained the water deep red, but also the
beard, which was only stuck on, entirely disappeared
from his face. Drying his face, he turned with a smile
to Pushkin, drew out a folded paper from the sleeve of
his caftan, and said :
" Very glad to have the opportunity of speaking to
you again. Will you not pay me this little account?"
And now, for the first time, did Pushkin perceive that
it was his worst creditor, the usurer Zsabakoff, who stood
before him.
" Was it the devil brought you here ?"
" No, sir, you brought me yourself."
His servant interposed
" Didn't I tell you, sir, not to open the door ?"
" But they were pulling out his beard."
" It was only stuck on," confessed Zsabakoff, with a
grin.
" And the two men who were laying their sticks about
you ?"
"Are my two brothers-in-law. That was all a pre-
arranged thing. I knew that you were too much a gen-
tleman to see a man ill-treated before your very door.
There seemed no other way of getting at you."
Pushkin saw that he had been thoroughly sold, and
that it was best to put a good face on it."
" Well, and what's your business ?"
"Only humbly to ask you, sir, to pay this miserable
one thousand rubles. You know how long they have
been owing."
"Yes, I have already paid them twice over in in-
terest.
HOW A FORTRESS WAS TAKEN 121
"Ah, if it were my own money! But I had to borrow
it, in order to lend it to you ; and the horse-leech from
whom I borrowed it has put on the screw each time you
renewed it, so that I have had to pay him the same rate
of interest that you have been paying me. And now he
swears he will grant me no more time ; that he will have
the caftan off my back if I do not raise the thousand
rubles. And here, in the depths of winter, shall I have
to go about in shirt-sleeves, and my seven children-
beautiful as angels will have no bread ! To pay your
debts the very pillow under their heads will be taken
from them. I shall have nothing left ; everything I had
I have turned into money to satisfy those blood-suck-
ing usurers; even my wife's last gown has been pawned
in Appraxin-Dwor. What will become of me, miserable
man that I am ?" And the usurer wept like a water-
spout.
" But I cannot help you," said Pushkin, irritably.
" Where the devil am I to get the money from ? 1 do
not coin bank-notes."
" When will you pay me ?"
" I am no prophet."
" But what is a poor devil like me to do, then ?" said
the usurer, trembling.
"County court me."
" Ah, dear, kind sir, don't make a joke of it. I should
only be thrown into prison for lending money to an offi-
cer in the army. Have pity on me ! Nine people will
pray daily for your soul's good if you will only pay me."
"Where am I to get the money from, if I have none ?"
"Just reflect a little, sir. You have some wealthy
aunts one of them may make you her heir. There are
no end of rich, beautiful princesses in St. Petersburg
who would be only too glad to help such a brave gentle-
122 THE GREEN BOOK
man did they but know that he was in temporary diffi-
culty. I could tell you this moment of an excellent
match a good, handsome, well-behaved young lady, with
half a million rubles for her dowry. I will undertake
the affair for you, if you wish it. Then you have such
a fine estate at Pleskow. There are plenty of honest
bankers here who, not knowing that your property is
confiscated by the Crown, would lend you money on it.
Such a man is rolling in gold, he would not miss it ; and,
of course, you would give back his money when you got
back your lands, and that would be sure to be the case
when you have done some brave soldiering, and the Czar
rewards you for it."
Pushkin held his sides with laughing as he listened to
this view of his affairs.
Zsabakoff grew desperate at the way Pushkin took his
suggestions.
" Do not make light of it, sir," cried he. " I assure
you, it is a matter of life and death with me. If I have
to go home like this to those angels who are crying out
for bread, I will take a razor and cut their seven throats,
then their mother's, and then my own. That I have made
up my mind to. You may depend, if you go on laugh-
ing at me, I will prepare you a comedy that will turn
your laughter into something very different. A desper-
ate man sticks at nothing. When you have it on your
conscience that a father of seven hanged himself, before
your very eyes, upon your window-frame
"Try it," said Pushkin, laughing; "but be quick
about it, for it's uncommonly late, and I want to go to
sleep." And with these words he threw himself upon
his camp-bedstead.
" Well, then, you shall see, before you have time to
sleep."
HOW A FORTRESS WAS TAKEN 123
And the* money-lender, dragging a chair to the win-
dow, got on -it, made a noose of his scarf, fastened it to
the window -frame, passed his head through it, and
kicked away the chair. And suddenly Pushkin saw his
creditor struggling in the air, his eyes starting out of his
head.
So then it was more than a joke ! Springing from his
bed, he snatched up his dagger to cut the noose ; then
saw that his would-be suicide was wearing a kind of
cravat of stout leather under his shirt, which effectually
prevented any possibility of strangulation. Furious at
the deception, he threatened the man with a sound
thrashing.
"Thrash as hard as you like, but pay. I would will-
ingly sacrifice my life to get back my thousand rubles.
Don't tell me you have no money. I know you have.
Did you not pay back Nyemozsin, that shameless usu-
rer, last week ? He's a thorough horse-leech ! Takes
two hundred per cent. And yet you could pay him,
though he held no written acknowledgment of yours."
"Just why I did pay him. It was a debt oi honor."
Zsabakoff, as he heard this, took his I.O.U. and tore
it into shreds.
" Now I have no written security either and mine is a
debt of honor!" he said, placing both hands in his girdle.
This was too much for Pushkin.
" Devil take you !" he cried. " Here is my pocket-
book. What you find in it you may take."
And the money-lender did find something in it a
poem called The Gypsy Girl. He began to dance round
with glee, now stopping, now starting off afresh, like a
merry Cossack.
" Ho, ho, what a find ! The Gypsy Girl! Heaven
bless you for it ! I am off with it."
124 THE GRKEN BOOK
" Where to ?"
"To Severin. He was only just telling me how all
the world of fashion was besieging his doors to know
when Pushkin's poem of The Gypsy Girl, that he had
read at Fraulein Ilmarinen's, was coming out. He said
he would give any amount for it. So my thousand
rubles are safe. If I can, I will squeeze something
more out of him, and honorably share the surplus with
you. I kiss your hand, sir. Pardon any annoyance I
may have caused you. Command me when you are in
want of more money. I shall be only too happy to be at
your service."
The money-lender had said the half of this speech as
he looked back on the threshold. Pushkin thought the
man had gone mad. Angrily throwing himself back on
his bed, he forbade his man-servant to admit the fellow
again ; then slept till noon. When he awoke he rang
for his man.
"That fellow came again, sir."
" But you did not let him in ?"
" No. But he pushed this packet under the door.
Shall I throw it into the fire, sir?"
" No. Give it me."
And, opening the packet, Pushkin found in it a copy
of his romance, The Gypsy Girl, two bank-notes for one
hundred rubles each, and a letter from the publisher,
Severin, informing him that he had bought his poem foi'
twelve hundred rubles, of which he herewith enclosed
two hundred, and had paid the rest to the person who
brought the manuscript. He forwarded a copy to Push-
kin that he might obtain the necessary permission to
publish.
It was a queer story; and especially that he should
have made money for what he had merely scribbled
A CANNIBAL 125
down for his own amusement. Absurd ! A gambler
had more right to the accumulated gains of a gambling
club than a man to extort money from the multitude for
permission to read what he had written ! An author's
fee ! Surely a hybrid betwixt the degrading and the
ridiculous ! Did it most savor of theft or deception ? or
was it but a loan ?
These thoughts passed through Pushkin's head as he
read the letter. Now he had to go to the Censor he, a
military man, to humiliate himself to a scurvy civil offi-
cial, and acknowledge him to be his judge and superior!
In all else the army has its own court-martial. Poetry
is truly an unsavory implement when it so demeans a
smart officer to defer to a civilian. Pushkin decided to
make this sacrifice to Apollo.
CHAPTER XIII
A CANNIBAL
THE devourer of human flesh is called a cannibal, but
what shall we call him who feeds upon the souls of men ?
who breakfasts off flights of youthful imagination,
dines off great thoughts, and sups on the heart's blood
of genius what shall we call such an one? A censor?
A man who sits in judgment on the gods!
At that period there were certain especially renowned
censors in St. Petersburg, at the head of whom was
Magnitsky, AraktseiefFs right hand, if one may use the
word right to either of his hands.
Certain anecdotes which have gone the round about
these men insure them immortality.
Herr Sujukin revised Homer's Iliad, made Venus
126 THE GREEN BOOK
into an irreproachable lady and Mars an officer of un-
questionable morality, and changed the capital letters
of all the false gods into small type. Only Mars was
permitted to retain the capital M, out of respect to the
Czar, who was also the god of war.
He struck out " unknown heaven " from the works of
a poet, because there is but one heaven where the saints
dwell ; consequently it is not unknown. From another
he struck out the passage, "I despise the world!" It
is a treasonable offence to despise the world in which
Czar and Grand Dukes, foreign rulers and their minis-
ters, delight to dwell.
In the love sonnets of a third, beginning, "Worshipped
being, creator of my bliss !" the solitary word " being "
alone found grace in the eyes of the arbitrary Censor.
We may only "worship" Divinity; there is but one
Creator. " Bliss " is only to be known in eternity for
such as have ended their lives as true Christians. Thus
the adjuration "being" was accounted fully sufficient
for the lady of the poet's thoughts.
And this was the man to whose tender mercies Push-
kin must perforce commit his poem ! Knocking at his
door, he courteously requested him to do him the favor
of first reading through his poem, which request was as
courteously conceded, a holy Friday being the day ap-
pointed for the next interview.
Never yet had the youth looked forward to a meeting
with his lady-love so ardently as he did to this appoint-
ment. He knew his man, and that he should have
a hard fight for it for there was no forgetting that
though there were many censors there was no possi-
bility of choice. Each had his special province : one
the press, another religion, the third education, the
fourth advertisements, the fifth theatrical programmes
A CANNIBAL 127
and announcements, and, lastly, the sixth, poetical ef-
fusions.
Herr Sujukin, who represented the earthly providence
of the poetical world, had exercised that function in
Czar Paul's time. He was now an aged man, with per-
fectly bald head, and, his face being also clean-shaven,
he looked for all the world like a death's-head, only
that his skull was still provided with every imaginable
expression of torture; his contemptuous grimaces could
galvanize the luckless poet standing before him ; and
many a one felt a death sentence passed upon him as he
encountered the glare of those little red eyes, fixed upon
him from out their wrinkled sockets.
"Well, dear son Pushkin!" Every poet was "son"
to him. "I have read your papers through from be-
ginning to end. I am truly sorry for you. What has
induced you to mix with the lower orders and select a
pack of gypsies for the subject of your poetical labors ?
Have you no higher associates? Are you desirous to
bring shame on your noble father by this versifying of
gypsydom ?"
Here Pushkin calmed him by informing him that his
father was dead long ago which, be it known, was not
strictly in accordance with the truth ; but it is not neces-
sary to tell the truth to a censor.
"Then you have certainly noble relatives who will
feel ashamed as they read these lines ! Why, they will
think you have become a gypsy yourself! Now, if you
had at least idealized gypsy life ! But you have drawn
them true to nature, thus sinning against the first rules
of poetry. Nor is this your grossest fault. But, in the
name of all the poets, what versification is this ? The
like I have never come across before ! Virgilius Mars
wrote in hexameters ; Horatius Flaccus in alcaic, sap-
128 THE GREEN BOOK
phic, and anapestic verse. But what do you call
yours ? There is no rhythm, the lines rhyme in all di-
rections, as if the smith had three hammers working
together on his anvil; one line is too long, another too
short ! That I could not allow ; where I have found a
line too short I have lengthened it with an interjection :
because; namely; but; however." And the cleath's-
head beamed with self-satisfaction. " Yes, yes, my son,
I have helped out many a poet. Derschavin owes the
greater part of his fame to me ; and I shall make some-
thing out of you !"
"All right, make what you like out of me, but not
one iota do you add to my verses ! Your office is to
cut out what does not please you."
"Now, don't flare up, my child. You will have no
need to complain of want of cutting. Do you see this
red pencil in my hand ? It is historical. It has never
been pointed; that is done effectually by the constant
striking out it performs. Since the year 1796 before
you were born I have been engaged, with this very
pencil, striking out words, lines ay, whole pages ! And
what it has struck out has been condemned to eternal
death !"
" By Jove ! that pencil, then, is a very guillotine."
" Eh, eh ! A young man such as you should not pro-
nounce the word 'guillotine!' This red lead, my son,
preserves society from degeneration, conspiracies, epi-
demics. It is more precious than the philosopher's
stone ; more powerful than a marshal's staff. It is the
pillar on which rests the peace of the whole land."
"Just let me hear what miracles your enchanted wand
has effected on my poor verses ?"
" It has done its duty. Do you suppose that lines
like ' Men enclosed within narrow walls are ashamed
A CANNIBAL 129
to love one another' may see the light? Humph! to
love in the sense of your fine heroes one might well be
ashamed ! Running after gypsy girls, without the sanc-
tion of a priest, without wedlock all unfettered a
pretty incentive to the young who would read it I"
"But, my dear sir, that is not my intention. As the
dramatic development proceeds, I purpose to show up
my hero's wrong-doing, for which he has to atone."
The death's-head was discomfited. He was not pre-
pared for this reply.
"Oh, so they are the adventurer's opinions? Then
you should have made a foot-note stating that they are
not the author's views, and that the offender will atone
for them later on. But listen again : ' He ' (that is, the
citizen) ' basely sells his freedom, bows his head to the
dust before his fetich, and by his importunity wrests
from it gold and fetters !' Now, is it permissible to put
this in black and white ? What ' freedom ' does he sell ?
and to whom does he sell it ? No one in Russia has
freedom ; consequently neither can he sell it to any one !
It is a revolutionary appeal. An incitement to anarchy !
A proclamation ! And then, 'bows his head to 'the dust
before his fetich.' Who is this fetich ? The Czar or
the holy images? Do you want to provoke the people
to iconoclasm ? But it is worse than blasphemy. In
former times you would have had your tongue torn out
for such words. And again: 'By importunity wrests
gold and fetters.' A calumny upon our thirteen official
grades ! Fetters ! Thorough Jacobin heresy ! So the
fetters offend you? Without them you were wolves and
no men ! Nor clo you need to importune for them ; they
are conceded without it, of grace ! You must have fet-
ters must, I say! It is in vain to versify against
them ! Did not my red pencil strike out those three
Q
TJO THE GREEN BOOK
lines, I should deserve to have it bored through my
nose !"
And, upon this awful possibility, he began applying
the said fateful pencil with dire force to expunge the
offending lines.
" But I do not permit you to strike those lines out
of my poem. I would rather withdraw it from pub-
lication."
" But I will not give it back !" returned the death's-
head, placing a hand upon the manuscript. "What is
once presented to my censure can no more be with-
drawn ! It must receive the deserved castigation !"
" And I protest against the striking out of any single
letter of it ! The manuscript is mine ; it is as much my
individual property as is that red pencil yours. You
are at liberty to reject my writings, but not to deface
them with your confounded chalk !"
" Deface ! Confounded chalk !" screamed the death's-
head, rigid with horror. "Audacity like this has no
superlative."
kt By heavens, it has !" shouted Pushkin, on his side ;
and to substantiate his words, snatching the red pencil
from the Censor's hand he threw it so violently to the
ground that the precious relic was shattered to a thou-
sand pieces ; at which awful result Pushkin himself was
so terrified that he took to flight, leaving the terrible
man alone with the pieces.
The Censor was aghast with rage and horror at the
deed. His all-powerful pencil shattered to atoms ! He
could scarce believe it. Such a thing had never before
happened in civilized Europe. What would men leave
sacred and untouched in future, when even that hal-
lowed implement could be dashed to the ground ?
Herr Sujukin did not call his servant, but himself,
A CANNIBAL 13!
kneeling down, began collecting the precious fragments,
weeping so bitterly as he did so that his chin trembled.
" My faithful my treasure pride of my life thou
art no more !" He endeavored to fasten the larger por-
tions together, but in vain.
Such an offence needed a special punishment.
The aggrieved Censor, wrapping the corpus delicti in a
paper, rolled Pushkin's poem round it, and hastened off
to Araktseieff's Palace, mentally conning the speech the
while with which he should make his patron acquainted
with the abominable assault.
Araktseieff's palace was just then being decorated
with those historic frescos by which the celebrated
Doyen perpetuated the deeds of Czar Alexander. The
master was even then himself at work on the immense
circle which formed the cupola of the domed reception-
room, and in which the Czar appears in the midst of his
generals and surrounded by mythological and allegorical
figures.
The furious Censor had to pass through this saloon.
He glanced up at the master, who, astride on the plank,
was touching up the figures, already designed, with color.
It was just what he wanted. He would let off some of
his rage upon him.
" Is it Master Doyen, or one of his assistants, who is
painting up there ?'' asked he.
To this singular question the artist made reply:
" And pray what may be your business down there ?"
"I have no 'business,' but am Vasul Sujukin Ser-
gievitch, Counsellor of Enlightenment to his Majesty."
Such was the Censor's title.
" A jolly good thing you have come. There is pre-
cious little light in this city with its confounded fogs."
"Learn, sir, that this is no 'confounded' fog. A St.
132 THE GREEN BOOK
Petersburg fog is purer than that of any other city. We
allow no complaints of our skies. But, look ! who is
that woman up there in the picture, standing close to
the Czar, with leg bared to the knee ?"
" It is Fame, the goddess of novelty."
"But what indecency for any one to stand in prox-
imity to the Czar in such a costume !"
" Ha, my friend, in the period of Roman-Greek my-
thology stockings were not in fashion."
" But we are in Russia, where ladies who have been
presented do not go about barefoot. I forbid you to
bring women in such negligee in contact with the person
of the Czar !"
" All right ! I will give her sandals."
" And let down her dress !"
" It is going to have a border to it."
" Mind, then, that it is a broad one that covers the
knee. And who is that with a roll of papers in his
hand ?"
" General KutusorT."
" Why is his right arm shorter than the left ?"
"It is not shorter; only his position makes it appear
so. We call that scorzo in Italian."
" Scorzo here, scorzo there ! We are not Italians !
Here we call a man who has one arm shorter than the
other deformed !"
" But I cannot paint my characters with stretched-out
arms as if they were on a crucifix !"
" I don't see why not."
The artist here, giving up the discussion, began touch-
ing up the face of the Czar.
" What is that black you are smearing over the counte-
nance of the Czar?"
" Terra di Siena. It gives the shadows."
A CANNIBAL 133
" But there must be no shadow on the countenance
of the Czar! It must shine, be radiant, brilliant. And
then, look here, one-half of the imperial face is broader
than the other."
" Of course it is ; because it is taken in three-quarter
profile."
" But why do you take the Czar in three-quarter pro-
file?"
" Because he could not otherwise be looking straight
at Kutusoff."
" Then turn Kutusoff s head so that the Czar may
look at him in full face."
The artist was nigh to springing off his plank with
brush and palette, and alighting on the head of the dic-
tatorial Counsellor of Enlightenment. But, controlling
himself, he took up a large brush and began painting in
the clouds in the background. This thoroughly pro-
voked the Censor's severity.
" Halt ! What are you doing ? What is that ?"
" A cloud."
" I can under no conditions permit you to paint
clouds behind the person of the Czar. It might seem
to some to have an allegorical meaning, as though our
political horizon were threatened with dark clouds."
" But, my dear sir, clouds are necessary to make the
figure stand out."
" The Czar stands out by himself ! You must paint
in a twilight sky for your background."
" Impossible ! Light is thrown on to the figures from
the other side, where the sun is shining."
" Where is the sun ? How are you going to paint it
in what colors ? With us the sun shines far more
brilliantly than in any other country."
The artist looked round to see which paint-pot he
134 THE GREEN BOOK
could aim at the Enlightened Counsellor's head. Then
a better idea struck him.
" Stop a bit, Herr Counsellor ! Here at the feet of the
Czar is to be a figure, ' Death Conquered.' Your head will
make a capital model. Just let me jot down a sketch of it."
The Counsellor of Enlightenment once more felt his
reason staggered. He could not at the moment decide
whether it were a compliment or an impertinence that
his physiognomy should be perpetuated on one canvas
with that of the Czar as " Death Conquered." But his
brutish instincts whispered him that it would be doing
the Frenchman a service to stand as his model ; so he
did not do it. Leaving him in the lurch, he passed on
to his patron's apartments.
CHAPTER XIV
THE YOUNG HOPEFUL
THE Counsellor of Public Enlightenment was just by
way of detailing at large to Araktseieff Pushkin's un-
heard-of outrage upon the censorial red pencil, with all
its aggravations, when a young man, unceremoniously
bursting open the door of the reception-room of the
dread President of Police, appeared upon the scene.
The intruder seemed privileged to break in upon him
unannounced, whoever might be having audience of the
all-powerful statesman. The new-comer was a man of
some thirty years of age ; his dress the uniform of a
colonel in the Life Guards. His features were pleasing
and regular, but the expression uneasy, shifty ; he never
looked the person to whom he was speaking full in the
face.
THE YOUNG HOPEFUL 135
It was Junker Jevgen, Araktseieff's son and young
hopeful.
"Ah!" cried his father, "you have got into some oth-
er ugly scrape, sir!"
"Au contraire, governor ! Mistaken for once."
" Your appearance rarely means anything else. Have
you anything of importance to say to me?"
"Oh, nothing of a nature that I cannot say before
Herr Sujukin."
" I suppose some pressing money difficulty ?"
"Au contraire" returned the young man, carelessly
throwing himself back upon a couch, and ostentatiously
drawing out a handful of gold from his pocket. "You
see it is not that which brought me."
"By Jove! you have lined your pockets well. May
I inquire the source of this plenty?"
" Why not ? No need to conceal it from Herr Suju-
kin. I won it a night or two ago at rouge-et-noir."
" So ! At nights, when you are intrusted with the in-
spection, you can manage to find time for the faro-
bank ?"
" I only just happened in en passant. I just hazarded
a couple of sovereigns; seven times, one after another,
I won. I had deuced good-luck ; red always turned up.
And I left off playing while the vein was on."
"And you come to tell me the good news?"
"Oh no! On the contrary, I come to bring you the
latest. Only fancy! the celebrated harpist, Chamber-
lin, has arrived from Paris, and is going to give some
concerts."
" I never knew you to be so devoted to the harp."
"Oh, I rave about it."
" And I can't abide it," put in Sujukin, in full agree-
ment with the father.
136 THE GREEN BOOK
Jevgen continued :
" His Majesty the Czar, to do honor to the harpist,
has commanded a state concert to-night at the Winter
Palace."
" Oh, I delight in the harp !" hastily threw in Sujukin,
in order to amend his former speech.
"The invitations are already issued. It will be a par-
ticularly brilliant assemblage. I just saw your invitation
delivered to your groom of the chambers. I have al-
ready received mine."
"Oh, then, of course it will be a brilliant affair!"
" I suppose you know that we must appear en grande
tenuet Men with the grand cordon and all their orders."
" Upon my soul ! Doing high honor to the musician."
" Besides which the Zeneida will sing something of
Cimarosa."
" Is that all you have to tell me ?"
" Beyond that nothing," returned the young man, rising
with a yawn as he looked at the clock. " Now I must
be off and change. By-the-way, shall you be at the state
concert to-night ?"
" What else should I do, as the Czar honors me with
an invitation ?"
" I thought, perhaps, your rheumatism was plaguing
you too much."
" Do not forget that there is no rheumatism when the
Czar commands."
" And yet it were a pity to risk your health, sir, for
sake of a scoundrelly musician. You will be awfully
bored. There is nothing in the world so ghastly dull as
the harp."
"You just told me you raved about it."
" Oh, of course, if it is a lady harpist. But to see a
man sprawling over the strings! pas si bete! It is for
THE YOUNG HOPEFUL 137
all the world like listening to some street player. I
could make your excuses to the Czar for you in form if
you preferred to stay at home."
"Now what the devil does it matter to you whether I
go or not? What has made you such an affectionate
son, so solicitous for your father's health ? Have you
entered upon the climacteric years which alter a man's
nature ?"
Jevgen broke into a laugh.
" Not exactly, father. Your son is the same as be-
fore. But I want you to stay at home to-night, because
then you could lend me your diamond Vladimir order.
I can't find mine anywhere."
" Because you have not searched at the pawnbroker's
for it."
"With clear conscience I can say it is not at the
pawnbroker's. If it were I could have easily redeemed
it with the cash in my pocket, and need not have come
to you. I have searched everywhere, and .cannot set
eyes upon it."
"Just think, my boy; you'll remember what you've
done with it."
"Well, then, I will confess. It is no disgrace; a
thing that happens to many of us officers. After play-
ing I came across a demoniacal little girl."
" Ah, you found time for that, too, during inspection ?"
"What matter! When I released the said little fury
I perceived that my Vladimir order had disappeared
with her."
" Upon my word ! It is a pretty story !" cried Arak-
tseiefF, springing up from his chair. "You have done for
yourself. Did I not say that some nice mess had brought
you here ? Lose your order ! Let it be stolen from you
by a street wench ! Do you know the girl ?"
138 THE GREEN BOOK
"Yes; she is a street dancer Diabolka, the gypsy
girl."
" A gypsy, eh ?" broke in Sujukin at that moment.
" That's it ! Just what might have been expected from
Pushkin's verses. Ah ! I can generally see through
things !"
" Did you put the police at once upon her track ?"
asked Araktseieff.
" As though the police were to be found at once, or,
to put it the other way, as though our police were likely
to find any one at once ! Oh, it is not lost ! The gypsy
or the Vladimir order will be found fast enough in
Appraxin Dwor. But that's no use to me. I want to
wear the order to-night; for I dare not appear without it
at the state concert."
"Well, my boy, no power but death shall separate me
from mine."
"Then I see no way out of it. I have tried to obtain
one from the State Treasurer ; but the Czar keeps the
key of the order safe himself; so nothing is to be done
there. It is enough to make a fellow blow his brains
out !"
"Well, well, here is an idea; but, mind, I take no
responsibility for it. Are you on good terms with the
Czar's groom of the chambers ?"
" Oh yes, excellent ! We meet constantly under the
table !"
" You are aware that when the Czar attends any civil
function and not a military parade, he is pleased to show
his imperial favor towards civilians by appearing in a
plain black coat, and wears no orders, merely the gold
medal in his button - hole, which he received from the
society of * Philanthropists ' in Riga for having saved
a poor peasant from drowning in the river. Thus, amid
THE YOUNG HOPEFUL 139
all the brilliant assemblage, the Czar is conspicuous by
the simplicity of his attire, and his Vladimir order will
be in the custody of the groom of the chambers for the
night. Bribe your friend to lend you the Czar's order
to-night."
" By Jove ! a brilliant idea ! I see, after all, that you
love me, governor."
** Ah ! were you not my son, my boy, you'd long ago
have been swinging on the gallows."
" No, no, father. Why joke with the word 'gallows'?
You may come to it yourself one day, though you are
my respected parent."
" But I give you one piece of advice : See that you
keep as far off as possible from the Czar at the concert,
that he may not recognize his own order."
" Bah ! how is he to single out one amid the forty
that will be there ?"
" I tell you this much, that the Czar is an expert in
precious stones. So make a point of keeping in some
obscure corner."
"Well, I will be your obedient son. I am pleased
with you to-day, father. It is no light matter to have
such a sensible parent to come to. I grant you per-
mission to give me a kiss. Adieu ! Good - day, Herr
Sujukin. Pray continue where you left off."
Meanwhile the death's-head had been chewing some-
thing between his teeth, perhaps a criticism, while the
young man was making a clean breast of it. " A good
many things to strike out with the red pencil there,"
thought he to himself. The father gazed for some time
at the half-open door ; then, turning to Sujukin :
"A fine, handsome boy, is he not? A merry fel-
low. His worst fault is that he knows how much I love
him."
14 THE GREEN BOOK
" He only needs a little of the red pencil ! But to
return to the story of that red pencil."
"You shall have satisf action, Vasul Sergievitch ! Leave
the matter to me. I will place the corpus delicti in the
Czar's own hands, and can assure you that the culprit
will bitterly repent his offence ! As though his first
intemperate actions, which he paid for by the confisca-
tion of his property and his banishment to Odessa, were
not sufficient reminder, he requites the clemency of the
Czar, who permitted him to return home, with these
fresh excesses but we will find a means of settling
with him. Be comforted, Vasul Sergievitch. To-morrow
morning Master Pushkin will find himself on his way to
Uralsk."
" Irkutsk is farther !" said the Censor, who could not
refrain from improving on AraktseiefFs verdict.
" But Uralsk is worse ! Believe me, Uralsk is an awful
garrison for an officer to be disgraced to. In ten years'
time no woman would recognize him. From a gay but-
terfly he will come back transformed into a h-airy cater-
pillar like our friend Jakuskin !"
The death's-head was satisfied to leave matters to him
Typis admittitur ! and went back to the reception-
rooms to administer a parting shot to the Frenchman.
After the encouraging words of the President of Police
his horns had grown so fast that he felt as if they would
reach to the artist perched aloft.
" I forbid you to paint a figure of Death before his
Majesty's very feet. It will give the whole fresco an
ominous meaning."
But the artist continued undisturbed to paint in his
figure of Death ; and the face was the counterpart of
that of the Censor.
THE CZAR SMILES
CHAPTER XV
THE CZAR SMILES
ONLY as Pushkin reached home did he begin to medi-
tate over what he had done. He did not for a moment
hesitate as to the consequences of his rash act. A man
only just permitted to return from exile in Bessarabia,
whither his hot head had banished him, and even then
but received in semi -favor at court, could not expect
other from his recent scene with the sacred person of
the Censor than to be deported to some fortress on
the Volga, or to guard the Kirghis Pustas, where he
would be forever lost to sight and mind. He therefore
set to work at once addressing P.P.C. cards to his
friends; on that to Zeneida he added, "pour jamais."
When once he received marching orders, there would
be no time for such things. The report of the assault
had quickly made the round of the town ; such news is
sure to spread quickly. Among his many friends there
was but one who found his way to him on hearing of it ;
that one was Jakuskin.
u Well, friend, now you, too, will make acquaintance
with the Caucasus. You would do well to have your
portrait taken at once, that after ten years, when you
come back, like me, you may at least know what you
once were like."
" I am prepared for anything," answered Pushkin,
sealing the letter in which he was returning the pub-
142 THE GREEN BOOK
lisher Severin the two hundred rubles he had received
for his poem, not having obtained the Censor's permis-
sion to publish. " But there is one thing I cannot un-
derstand. I have just received from the Lord Cham-
berlain an invitation to the state concert to-night. Now,
what the devil does that mean ?"
" What does it mean, my friend ? That your punish-
ment is to be carried out with a refinement of cruelty !
Had I not a similar experience ? The very night I had
challenged that scoundrel, J, too, received an invitation
to a court ball. When the circle was formed round the
Czar, the Lord Chamberlain placed me among the
guests to whom his Majesty desired to speak. I was
simple enough to feel elated at the distinction. My turn
at length came. The great man stood before me, let-
ting me feel his colossal height. Looking full at me
with his cold, green eyes, his face as immovable as a
moonlit landscape, he asked, ' You are not satisfied
with your commanding officer?' And, taking my con-
fusion for acquiescence, added, * We will provide against
any such unpleasant friction in the future.' And I stam-
mered out something like thanks, never thinking that
this was only a planned humiliation for me, that every
one standing round about me knew already whither [
was to be banished, and that the honor of this impe-
rial interview was merely intended to further humiliate
me. Oh, if I had but known it then ! If it should again
happen that I Ah, fool that I am ! Fate does not
so repeat itself. But could I pass on to you my imbit-
tered heart, my experience, and my determination at the
moment in which you will be standing there, face to
face with 'him,' apart from all, all eyes upon you, but
every man's hand turned away from you ; no one near
you but a devil ! Casca's devil ! But what am I talk-
THE CZAR SMILES 143
ing about ! You are but an Epimetheus to whom wis-
dom only comes when the opportunity is past. A pleas-
ant journey to Tungusia ; my respects to the marmots !
Come, let us shake hands. We are comrades now."
" Eh ! fate does not repeat itself ? How if the soup
be not eaten as hot as it is served ?" asked Pushkin,
simulating light-heartedness. But Jakuskin's words had
left a sting in his heart. Why had he received the invi-
tation to the palace that night?
There was no evading the command. His sledge was
one among the many formed in line before the gates of
the Winter Palace that evening , the guests numbered
more than two thousand, the whole elite of St. Peters-
burg society was there.
At that time the Winter Palace, in its magnificence,
tone of society, its mode of paying compliments, and
distinguished courtesy, threatened to rival the Tuileries ;
even Parisian bon-mots went the round. All national
characteristics had become decidedly bad form. Ladies
no longer wore the fur -lined dolmankn, the clasped
girdles ; the singular fashion which had formerly pre-
vailed of wearing gold watches in the hair had been
given up; feminine taste displayed itself in following
the latest Paris fashions, in which lace and artificial
flower^Jpere de rigueur. The men wore uniforms. The
Czarina was the sole exception to the prevailing fashion ;
she continued to wear the out-spreading head-dress, in
form of a peacock tail, which made her tall figure seem
even taller, and lent still more majesty to her counte-
nance. The Czar, on the other hand, was wearing plain
civilian evening dress, without ribbon or order of any
description.
Late as was Pushkin's entry among the gayly attired
throng, he could not fail to notice how greatly the tone
144 TH E GREEN BOOK
of society had altered towards him from the night be-
fore. People did not seem to see him. His superior
officers and others to whom he had been presented did
not acknowledge his salute. Intimate friends, comrades
in arms, seemed suddenly engrossed in conversation
with their neighbors on his approach, to avoid accosting
him. Lovely women, who but yesterday had welcomed
him to their opera-boxes, spread out their fans before
their faces as he neared them ; the heat suddenly be-
came oppressive ! One lady alone, clad in rich silks,
crossing the room on Prince Ghedimin's arm, vouch-
safed him her attention ; she was the beautiful Princess
Korynthia, Prince Ghedimin's wife ; her cold gray eyes
measured the young officer from head to foot she who
had so often laughed at his wit while she deigned him
no other return to his salutation than a contemptuous
curl of the lip, for which he promptly revenged himself
by turning and exchanging mischievous smiles with the
young girl at her side, Princess Bethsaba. Just then
the press before them brought Prince Ghedimin's party
to a standstill, and Pushkin saw the bright flush which
had suffused the young Princess's face under the fire of
his eyes. Almost he felt inclined to say : " Nay, fair
rosebud, do not blush at my gaze. To-morrow I shall
be speeding to the land where your fathers sleep !"
The Prince and Princess were now received by Arak-
tseieff, who conducted the ladies to the arm-chairs re-
served for them near the stage on which the artistes
were to appear. Ghedimin disappeared among the
crowd of brilliant uniforms ; there were no seats for the
men.
The concert began with a sonata of Beethoven, to
which the Czar listened absorbed, as he leaned over the
back of the Czarina's chair, his tall figure overtopping
THE CZAR SMILES 145
all others, his eyes fixed on vacancy. When it came to
the turn of the harpist his manner became animated.
Hurrying across to the performer, he led him on the
stage, settled the music-stand for him to the requisite
height, and then, as his chair was too low, himself
fetched a cushion, oblivious for the moment that he was
the Czar of all the Russias. The harpist acquitted him-
self magnificently, fully bearing out his world-wide fame.
At the Czar's state concerts there is no applause; but
the murmurs of delight passing from mouth to mouth of
a crowded audience are a higher reward to the artist
than the stormiest applause.
After the harpist followed Fraulein Ilmarinen.
Every one said she had never sung the Swan's song so
thrillingly and exquisitely as on that evening ; the tears
sparkling in her eyes were as real as the brilliants which
flashed in her hair.
The Czar involuntarily was beating time to her song.
Zeneida looked lovelier than ever that night; her dress
was covered with spring flowers ; her face was radiant.
It could not be all art.
Three pair of eyes are fixed most untiringly upon her.
The first are those of Princess Korynthia. Filled with
hate and contempt, they strive to read into the singer's
inmost soul ; to detect some false look of betrayal which
shall expose the artiste in the part she is playing; and
the Princess inwardly rages that she does not find the
clew.
The second pair of eyes are Bethsaba's. Her great
dark eyes are staring wide open at the charming appari-
tion, as though to say, " Does the devil look like that ?
Then, indeed, one must be on one's guard, for its coun-
terpart is very lovely !"
The third pair of eyes belong to Pushkin. He feels
10
146 THE GREEN BOOK
that the better part of his soul is merged in that of the
lovely woman before him ; and that soul, at this moment,
is rilled with bitterness against all those who would ban-
ibh him from her vicinity. He feels that in losing Ze-
neida he loses all that is noblest within him, and that
evil alone will remain. Already it has gained the upper
hand as he recalls Jakuskin's speech : " Oh that I could
infuse into you Casca's fiendish spirit, when you stand,
the mark of every eye, before * him ' !"
He feels himself touched on the shoulder. Looking
back, he sees the Lord Chamberlain. Speaking no word,
the latter was lost in the crowd of men.
Pushkin knows what that touch on the shoulder means.
It means that at the close of the concert the person thus
signalled out is to take his place in the middle of the
concert-room, as one of those to whom the Czar designs
to speak. Exactly as Jakuskin had prophesied ! The
blood rushes wildly through his veins. The comedy
may be turned into a tragedy.
Princess Korynthia turns to AraktseiefT, standing be-
hind her chair.
" Fraulein Ilmarinen seems to be in particularly good
spirits this evening."
" I have done my best to spoil them. I have struck
her heart a blow which will stop her love of intrigue for
a while."
" Let me be the first to enjoy your secret."
" The lady's hero, Pushkin, is about to be despatched
to Uralsk."
" Do you think the girl will desert St. Petersburg and
follow him ?"
" Either that, or she will commit some greater folly.
Anyway, it will compel her to unmask."
The Czar, after thanking and praising Zeneida, now
THE CZAR SMILES 147
began to make the round of the gentlemen ; while the
ladies to whom the Czarina desired to speak were called
up to her.
The Czar entered into conversation with some of the
ambassadors, exchanged a few words with Miloradovics ;
then, passing over a number of the circle, looked about
him, and, perceiving Pushkin, signed him to approach.
All deferentially drew back. From the Czar and a
culprit it is well to keep one's distance. All the same,
every eye was fixed on the two.
At this critical moment Pushkin felt himself singu-
larly calm. He stood, in fact, as cold bloodedly before
his imperial master as he would have done before any
ordinary man.
" So I hear you are not satisfied with your Censor ?"
asked the Czar.
The very form of question he had addressed to Ja-
kuskin !
But Pushkin had a guardian angel his Muse who
did not suffer him to remain silent and abashed.
"As satisfied as one is with an illness, sire."
" Do not bear him a grudge. He is a well-meaning
man, but with certain old-fashioned notions. That is
not his fault. I have read your poem ; it is very fine.
The Censor had struck out some portions ; but that you
did not allow ?"
"No, sire."
" And do not allow their suppression ?"
" No, sire."
" You are right. They are the best passages in the
whole poem. But what are we to do about it ? I can-
not go against the Censor ; for were I to permit what
he forbids, the whole institution would be overturned ;
and it is a necessary one. What do you think ?"
148 THE GREEN BOOK
" Sire, I will take back my poem and burn it."
" No, no. I think we will send it to Leipsic, have it
printed there, and then import it."
" And the frontier custom-house, sire ?" asked Push-
kin.
The Czar smiled; nay, he laughed he laughed
aloud.
" We will have it packed in among my own personal
things, which are not examined in the customs. Thus
will we bring the poem into the country."
Pushkin trembled in every limb, like a schoolboy who
has undergone an examination.
" Stay a moment !" exclaimed the Czar. " It will be
more profitable to your poetical studies were you to
prosecute them in the country. It will be better for you
to pass the summer on your estate of Pleskow. You
will find you can write better there."
That meant the restoration of his confiscated estate.
Moved to tears, Pushkin's voice failed.
"Tell no one of what has passed between us. I do
not wish it spread abroad."
"Only to one woman, sire, whose silence is as perfect
as is her singing."
" She knows it already," returned the Czar, with a
smile. He had smiled twice.
How instantly the brightness of that smile had changed
the temperature ! How immediately the ice and snow
in it had thawed! As Pushkin rejoined the circle he
was greeted on all sides by friendly faces beaming with
congratulation. Distinguished court ladies shut up their
fans; they no longer felt the heat. Pushkin could not
but respond to the crowd who claimed acquaintance.
He was wise enough to tell every one that the Czar
had restored his Pleskow estates to him on condition
THE CZAR SMILES 149
that he gave up writing poetry, which raised him at once
on a pinnacle. For be it known, not to write poetry at
all is a negative merit ; to write bad poetry and give it
up is some slight merit ; to write good poetry, and yet
give it up, is a positive and great merit in high society.
Even Princess Korynthia had the hero of the hour
called up to her in order to ask him why he had riot
recognized her just now. Women alone are capable
of such a piece of audacity, and men are obliged to
take it from them.
Pushkin and the Princess conversed pleasantly for
some little time, and he was introduced to Bethsaba, to
whom he said many foolish things.
One woman only, Zeneida, he had no courage to ap-
proach. With the divination of a true poet, he felt that
she was the only creditor in all the world from whom he
must keep aloof; for that which he owed to that cred-
itor he was unable to pay.
Nor had he any news to impart. Had not the Czar
said, " She knows it already"?
The Czar had smiled. The smile had lightened all
hearts. The melancholy feeling of monotony which was
weighing over society was at once dispelled. But it was
but an autumnal ray a ray of evening sunshine on a
rainy day.
But he to whom this turn of things brought no con-
tent was Araktseieff. Pleskow is not the end of the
world ! If Pushkin went no further than that, Fraulein
Ilmarinen's intrigues would suffer no reverse. They
could meet as often as they wished. He could not
understand how it had all come about. That the Czar
favored Fraulein Ilmarinen he well knew ; and that
Zeneida had been working to save her beloved poet,
150 THE GREEN BOOK
that, too, he knew. But this was not sufficient to have
put the Czar in the very opposite frame of mind from
that which he, the all-powerful favorite, had striven to
bring about. Some other hand must have been at work
here.
Now among those whom the unaccustomed ray of
sunlight had moved to creep out of their dark corners
was young Araktseieff.
Forgetting his father's advice to keep well in the
shade, and not thinking that the sparkling order on his
breast was a borrowed one, and that its owner was
among the party there assembled, he suffered himself
to be enticed to the front, and joined the set of young
men who were paying court to the ladies.
Suddenly he became aware that the Czar was bearing
down upon him.
He was about to make way respectfully for his Maj-
esty, but the Czar, going directly up to him, said :
"What fine diamonds those are you are wearing,
Araktseieff !"
He who was thus addressed replied, with audacious
humility :
" Sire, I wear them by your Majesty's favor."
"Remarkable!" exclaimed the Czar. "Those brill-
iants are the very counterpart of the ones in my Vladi-
mir star."
Junker Jevgen began to think that cheek alone would
carry him through here.
"Sire, some diamonds resemble each other wonder-
fully."
" And yet I am inclined to think that the star you are
wearing is mine, and that in my pocket I happen to
have a Vladimir order bearing your name on the rib-
bon."
THE CZAR SMILES 151
" Mercy, sire !" implored Jevgen, with shaking knees.
" Silence ! You surely would not implore mercy here
before the whole court. Go to your quarters. Keep
the order you are wearing; I wear it no more, since it
has been worn by you. Away with you !"
"A bad adviser led me on, sire." The young noble-
man was ready to betray his father.
" I do not ask who advised you. Go to - morrow
morning to your father. There you will learn what is
in store for you."
After this scene the Czar abruptly left the concert-
room and withdrew to his own apartments, the former
icy expression on his face. He did not even return the
greetings of the surrounding guests.
Araktseieff, who had watched the scene from a dis-
tance, followed the Czar. He was not admitted, but com-
manded to await his Imperial Majesty's pleasure, and the
all-powerful favorite awaited it until two in the morning.
Then the Czar entered the audience-chamber, carry-
ing a roll of papers in his hand.
" What say you, Alexis Maximovitch," said he to his
favorite. " Was it not a good idea of mine to institute
the posta sofianskaja V
"Without doubt, sire. It has given the people op-
portunity to bring their needs and wishes directly, in
written form, before the Czar."
"One learns interesting things through it at times.
This morning, for example, I received a letter from a
gypsy girl containing a Vladimir order set with diamonds.
The letter graphically recounted the manner in which the
said order had fallen into the girl's hands. Here, read it."
Araktseieff was never so near to swooning as when
he had come to the end of the letter. It was a cruel,
bitter blow to his heart ; he was cut to the quick in his
152 THE GREEN BOOK
paternal love. He had wanted to strike a blow at that
woman's heart, and it had rebounded on his own in its
most vulnerable place. That this was all Zeneida's do-
ing there was no manner of doubt. Araktseieff was to
be disgraced before the Czar. She meant to bring upon
him what he had intended for her.
But she should find herself mistaken.
Refolding the letter, he said, coldly and calmly : .
" The criminal must suffer."
" Will it be punishment enough if he be sent to
Uralsk?"
To Uralsk ! That meant never to see him more ! He,
the well -loved only son, the arch -rogue for whom he
lived, for whom he gathered up treasure, through whom
he trusted to make his name live to posterity ; he to be
buried in a rocky fortress of the Kirghis steppes ! But
if it had been good enough for Pushkin, who had resisted
the extinction of his poetic fervor, why not good enough
for a soldier who by nights made burglarious onslaughts
on the passers-by? And yet he would so gladly save
him ! After all, it was no crime, only a foolhardy scrape,
such as had taken place in the days of old chivalry, and
even been practised by King Henry of England himself
when he was yet Prince of Wales. Foolhardiness, but
no crime ! He suppressed the defence, however, feeling
that although the Czar might perhaps pardon his son at
his intercession, such pardon would mean the end of the
father's influence. His enemies should find themselves
mistaken if they reckoned upon "that.
" He was my only son," he said, sobbing. " I loved
him above all the world, but I love the Czar better than
my only son. He must suffer if he has sinned." And
he prepared the ukase condemning his son to banish-
ment in Uralsk, then kissed the Czar's hand.
THE CZAR SMILES 153
Araktseieff parted from his son without saying fare-
well to him. He must carry out the part of Brutus con-
sistently, that his enemies might recognize the ancient
Roman and tremble. But the Roman in him had a
strong admixture of the Sarmatic. Like Foscari, he
could sign with his own hand his only son's banish-
ment ; but not because he made no distinction, but out
of the genuine love of a Russian subject towards his
ruler, and, by making his powerful position still more
powerful, to be able to pay back to his enemies the
cruel vengeance they had wreaked on him.
To this he made preparation. No single one should
be exempt.
On the very day his son set out on the road from
which so few ever return, Magriczki came to him with
the intelligence that the police had arrested Diabolka.
What should be her penalty ? Should he have her
knouted in the open market-place, or with slit ears and
nose be transported to Lake Baikal ? There was cause
sufficient. Her vagabond life, her immoral habits, could
be brought up against her moreover, a gypsy girl ! Was
not the dark skin crime enough?
" Bring her to me," said Araktseieff. " You, none of
you yet know how to punish. This is a wild animal who
only feels the smart of the lash while it is upon her. It
were no shame to such as her to be beaten half naked
in the market-place; she is brazen enough to laugh
while the punishment is being inflicted. Of what use is
punishment to her yet ? First that sense must be awak-
ened in her, latent in every human being, but slumbering
yet the sense of self-respect. Then we can inflict the
penalty when something more than her outer skin will
feel it. Send the girl in."
And soon Diabolka was standing before Araktseieff,
154 THE GREEN BOOK
both hands chained to her back, her unkempt hair about
her saucy face, her eyes gleaming wildly through it. Her
feet, too, were chained.
" So you are Diabolka, the street dancer ?" asked the
President of Police.
" Of course. Don't you hear my castanets ?" answered
the girl, striking her feet together, and making the chains
clash.
"And do you know who I am ?"
" Of course. The father of a street thief."
" You are right ! My son is an offender ; he has paid
the penalty. I myself signed his sentence. Was it you
who informed against him ?"
" I might deny it if I chose, but I do not."
" Was it you who wrote the letter to the Czar ?"
" Though I cannot write, yet it was I who wrote it."
"Then somebody guided your hand, and you wrote
down the characters ?"
" But you shall never know the name of that ' some-
body,' "
"Were you aware what your hand was putting to
paper ?"
" I was."
" Then you must have been aware that not alone he
whom you denounced was lost, but also you yourself, for
having stolen a Vladimir order."
" But I have returned it."
" None the less, you are a thief, and must be sent to
the pillory."
" Women of higher rank than mine have stood there
already."
" Your shoulders will be branded with hot iron."
" My dark skin marks me already as a gypsy. I am
bad from head to foot."
THE CZAR SMILES 155
" Come, I don't believe that. This very day, through
you, I have forever lost my only son. All night long
until the sun rose I was tossing in an agony of sobs on
my bed. In the early morning I went into the chapel,
and there, before my Maker, I swore an oath that I
would free the unhappy creature who had been my son's
undoing, body and soul. At least, I will loose your
outer chains."
" No need to trouble the jailer for that. If I choose
and you allow, I can be rid of them myself."
The gypsy girl had extraordinarily little hands. Easily,
as if she were drawing off a glove, she drew out her
hands from the fetters ; and as simply, without even
sitting down, freed her feet. Lifting one foot in the air,
she balanced herself on the other, and, in a second,
stood unfettered. So she stood before Araktseieff, hold-
ing one end of her chain in her hand, looking capable
of laying about her with the other end on the head of
any one who came near her; and that person would
have remembered the attention to his dying day.
The keeper was alone in the cage with the unchained
leopard.
" Listen to what I will do with you !"
The leopard took an attitude as if about to spring.
And this time Araktseieff was not, as usual, prodding
about with his sword-stick. He had no weapon of any
description near to hand.
" I will find you a respectable situation, where you can
both live quietly and honestly, and educate yourself, mind
and body where, in fact, you can improve yourself."
" But I don't want it. I want neither a cloister, nor
praying nuns, nor hypocritical monks. I will not work,
unless I am beaten and made to ; and even if I am
beaten, I won't pray."
156 THE GREEN BOOK
" You shall not be forced to anything of that kind. I
will send you neither to a cloister, nor to a reformatory,
but into the country. I have a castle on my estate
where a dear friend of mine is living."
There was a sudden sparkle in the girl's eyes. Throw-
ing away the threatening chain, and shaking back the
loose hair with sudden movement from her brow, she
looked with joyful smile at the President of Police.
" Ah ! you would send me to Daimona ?"
" Yes ; to Daimona."
Ah! stern Cato Censorius then had yet one tender
chord in his heart, one far more tender even than that
which had been wrung by the banishment of his
son !
There was much talk about Daimona, but not in her
favor ; and what was said of her was but a shadow of
truth the woman whom the favorite of the Czar wor-
shipped more than all the saints in heaven or earth ! It
was with her he spent every moment he could snatch
from affairs of state. She was the sun of his life at
once his tyrant and his happiness. She was a woman so
savage, so cruel and passionate, that none but an Araktse-
ieff could have loved her. Or was it just for that that
he did love her ? Every one who wished to appeal to
AraktseiefT, or hoped to escape his vengeance, must first
sue to his idol and offer his sacrifice at her feet ; and
costly sacrifices they must be no make-believes. Dai-
mona's extortions were renowned throughout the breadth
of the empire.
Diabolka's pearly teeth glistened white through her
coral lips.
" So you would like to go to Daimona ?" asked the
great official.
"Why not? She is a woman after my own heart."
THE CZAR SMILES 157
" I am not sending you to her to be her servant, but
to be her friend."
"Oh, we shall soon be very friendly!"
"She feels lonely; and you will know how to amuse
her."
" I will divine her thoughts."
" If she takes a fancy to you, you will be happy with
her. She will give you smart clothes, trinkets, and
riding-horses."
" And a whip to scourge the slaves with."
"And if you get on well, and become a young lady,
Daimona will find you a husband."
At these words the girl's face darkened. Shaking her
head energetically, till the dishevelled hair fell over it
again, she struck her thigh vehemently as she exclaimed,
with a stamp of her foot :
"Then I will not go !"
A malicious smile curled Araktseieff's lips. Then he
continued, in a paternal tone :
" I understand. You have a lover here among the
gypsies."
" A * brother ' !" exclaimed the girl.
" Oh, a ' brother ' ! Gypsies are prudish ; they only
have 'brothers.' And suppose I were to send your
brother, too, to Daimona's castle ? He might make a
good overseer of slaves."
"Would that be possible?" cried Diabolka, joyously.
" It shall be done. I will send you together to Dai-
mona, and you shall become her confidential people."
Diabolka fell at the feet of the dreaded President and
kissed them, while Araktseieff, with Christian mildness,
stroked the gypsy's unkempt hair. And at the moment
of this scene of foot-kissing and hair-stroking the hearts
of both were filled with thoughts of direst vengeance.
158 THE GREEN BOOK
In the inexperienced girl's soul a scheme of as wide-
spreading a nature was developing against Araktseieff
as he was evolving to the torture of the girl, while she
was as deft at lying, dissembling, and hiding her feelings
as was the statesman. It is the advantage alike of sav-
ages and diplomats.
Which would triumph ?
Diabolka and her "brother" set off that very day for
AraktseiefFs estates, where Daimona was already ex-
pecting them.
CHAPTER XVI
SOPHIE
ARAKTSEIEFF'S chief care now was to divert the Czar
from the influence of his, AraktseiefFs, enemies. And
the best means to that end was a visit to the military
colonies. This atrocious idea had originated in Arak-
tseiefFs brain ; he was the creator of the military colonies.
Half a million soldiers, who had gone through every
European war, were to be rewarded for their services
by being planted as colonists, regiment by regiment,
throughout the length and breadth of the empire. The
peasants were to teach them to plough and sow seed,
while they in turn were to instruct the peasants in drill
and the use of firearms. A marvellous conception on
paper ! Thus in time the state would acquire three
millions of well-drilled soldiers at no cost. The scythe
would pay the piper.
But one important factor in the project had been left
out of his calculations by its author. The peasant did
not take kindly to drill, nor did the soldier to the scythe.
SOPHIE 159
The Czar took the military colony of Novgorod for his
first inspection ; Araktseieff was in his retinue. They
returned unexpectedly ; a fact mentioned in the news-
papers, as showing with what marvellous rapidity the
Czar travelled. He had actually accomplished the
journey to the Ural Mountains in four weeks; it was
a peculiarity of his to gallop night and day. Then
they went on to describe the magnificent reception
the imperial cortege had met with in every town of
the colony, which had sprung up with magic quickness.
They dilated on the triumphal arches, deputations, the
gifts offered them by the people, by which they endeav-
ored to express their unbounded loyalty to the Czar.
The great military parades which had been held were
also graphically described ; and no one for a moment
suspected but that all these things had duly taken
place.
On his return from the inspection, Araktseieff went on
an official mission to Warsaw. This, too, was duly an-
nounced by the newspapers, without comment of any
kind or description.
With the month of June springtide returned to St.
Petersburg. Sophie Narishkin's room was a mass of
lilies-of-the-valley, her favorite flower. Every vase, every
available space was filled with them. With the more fa-
vorable season her health seemed to be re-established.
She could now walk across the room without support,
and began to think more about food than medicines.
She even began to speculate on being taken to court
balls in the winter. One of her aunts was to chaperon
her in society; perhaps she might even be allowed to
dance a minuet. She was constantly sending for Beth-
saba to hear what a court ball was like. The king's
daughter had already attended one.
l6o THE GREEN BOOK
One day, after the Czar's return from the inspection,
Bethsaba came to see Sophie.
" Oh, your room is quite full of lilies-of-the-valley !
Who sent them to you ?"
" Who else than father ?"
Sophie had no secrets from Bethsaba. She openly
called the Czar " father " to her.
" Has he been here ?"
" Yes ; all last evening. It was a very sad one. I
begin to feel quite afraid of him."
" Did you do anything to vex him ?"
"Oh no ! It is his great love for me which makes me
begin to feel frightened of him. When he stands so
long, looking silently at me, my hands in his, I feel as if
I cannot endure the silence; then I ask him, 'What is
it, father? What is grieving you?' And he answers,
' My grief is that I have no one to whom I can tell my
troubles.' * Can so great a man as you have any trouble
for which there is no help?' Then, pointing to his heart,
he said, * Here is the trouble !' Upon which I coaxed
him, and begged him to tell me all his trouble. Who
could tell perhaps even my childish simplicity might
find a way to heal or lessen his sorrows ? Then he drew
me again to his heart, laid my head on his shoulder,
and said, ' I am ill, Sophie ; and there is no physician
in the wide world to whom I can tell my ailment. There
is something weighing on my heart, and there is no con-
fessor to whom I can confess it. By night my dreams
make me tremble ; by day, my thoughts. I dread soli-
tude, and I dread mankind. I know that no one loves
me ; I know that I am condemned.' ' By whom ?' ' By
God and man. Every one flatters me ; only that which
beats within me tells me the truth and accuses me.'
' And does not this, too, that beats within me tell the
SOPHIE 161
truth?' I cried; 'and does it not live, love, and worship
you ? Let those two hearts of ours fight it out together !'
Then he embraced me, and whispered, ' Be it so. There
is no one on whom I have wrought such ill as you. Why
should I not confess to you? You are my martyr; if
you can give me absolution, I am indeed absolved.'
And kneeling before me, he said, oh ! such sorrowful
words, ' Look ! I ascended the throne over my father's
body. I accepted the crown at the hands of his murderers,
and placed it upon my head. I wept no tears when I
heard of his death ; I felt relieved. I had no longer
to dread his wrath, for he had parted from me in anger.
On how many a battle-field have I since sought expiation !
It was not for me. It was written upon my brow that
the bullets that whizzed about me should not strike me;
it was spoken of me that my punishment should be as
my sin. As a son, my heart was cold as stone to my
father. How was I to suffer in my children ? I have
borne them all to the grave. You are my last and only
one ! I am ground down to the earth under the iron
hand of Fate when -I think of you, when I look into
your dear face. Are you, too, to be condemned for my
great sin ?' I tried to console him. * I want for nothing,
father dear,' I said ; ' I am happy, quite happy, and mean
to grow strong, and love you ever so long. 1 And we both
burst into tears. * It is not for myself I tremble,' he
whispered. ' I see the sword hanging over me. I hear,
in the watches of the night, how the knife is being sharp-
ened against the corner-stone of my palace. I am ready.
Through blood I ascended the throne ; in blood I must de-
scend it. But it is for you that I tremble! God's sen-
tence upon me must not strike your head too !' Then
I made him rise, and said such wise things to him that
I quite astonished myself; I am usually such a silly
1 62 THE GREEN BOOK
child. I comforted him in a hundred ways, so that at
last I won a smile to his lips, and he said, ' Then give
me absolution. Say, Christe eleisonf I was so brave
that I even began to talk politics with him actually got
to matters of state ! I said, ' Why torment yourself
with such fancies ? Your people are not as bad as those
of other countries. I know something of the world ! I
have seen Frenchmen, Italians, Germans. When they
drink hard on holidays, they grow noisy and quarrelsome;
but your subjects, when they drink at holiday-time, only
stagger about, and laugh and embrace each other.' "
" Did not that make him laugh ?"
" He only kissed me, telling me I was a wiser states-
woman than either Talleyrand or Metternich ; then grew
grave again. ' So it used to be in former times ; and the
distinction your wise little head draws did then exist.
But nowadays there is something in the air which seems
to infect the most peace-loving people ; so that what you
are sure of one day you cannot be the next. I will tell
you what happened to me on my recent journey. It is
not talked about, and newspapers. and parliamentary re-
ports will be dumb about it. It was growing dusk as I
neared the military colony of Petrowsk ; the setting sun
was tinting bright crimson the fleecy clouds covering the
sky. It looked like a ragged imperial mantle.' Here I,
scolding him, asked who had ever seen a ragged imperial
mantle ? And he, answering me, said, ' Among others,
Julius Caesar.' 'I remarked that it was a sky which pre-
saged storm. " A mere fancy," returned Araktseieff.
" 'In the light of the crimson sky the triumphal arch
erected in the street of Petrowsk looked like a bower of
molten gold. The other triumphal arches under which
we had passed had been of fir, which, taking no reflec-
tion from the sun, looked gloomy, however brightly it
SOPH IK 163
might be shining. What was this made of that it shone
so brightly ? An immense throng surrounded it. As
I drew nearer I discovered of what it was composed.
Oh, I have passed through many a triumphal arch
erected in welcome of me. They have been made of
velvets and satins in my honor ; I have seen the two
side pillars formed of cannon conquered from the en-
emy ; the arch decorated with standards wrested from
them ; the crown in the centre formed of the orders of
fallen heroes ; the glittering aureole around of the
swords of the generals who were our prisoners. But the
triumphal arch of Petrowsk exceeded them all.
" ' That which from afar in the light of the setting sun
shone golden were strips of ragged shirts and gowns;
in place of flags were beggars' sacks ; the crown was
composed of crutches stuck through an old bottomless
cooking-pot. It was a triumphal arch built up of rags
and beggars' sacks. While I stood transfixed at the
hideous phantom, there stepped one from the midst of
the crowd a fine, tall old man with flowing beard, hold-
ing in his hand the customary wooden vessel, in which
was a crust of bread and said :
"'"This is the bread which your soldiers have left
us. Taste it! It is made from the bark of fir-trees.
The usual salt we cannot offer you, for we have none but
our salt tears. On this triumphal arch you will find
many a token left us by your soldiers ; the ragged cloth-
ing of our wives and daughters. They themselves are
not here, because they could not appear naked before
you. The twelve chaste virgins commanded by the
Hetman we could not present to bid you welcome, be-
cause in all the neighborhood there does not exist a
single chaste virgin since you have quartered your sol-
diers upon us."
164 THE GREEN BOOK
" ' At these words Araktseieff gave the command to
the companies of Guard Cossacks in our suite to dis-
perse the rebellious crowd. But they were no rebels,
but despairing men. As the trumpet sounded they' threw
themselves down by the wayside before our horses' feet,
and, with hands and face uplifted to me, implored :
" ' " Deliver us from your soldiers. Take your armed
men away from us. We are loyal peasants, and will
work. You must ride over our bodies if you wish to go
farther."
" * It was impossible to make way along the ground
so densely strewn with prostrate figures. Nor angry
threats, nor gracious words availed. Without intermis-
sion they cried, "Take your soldiers away from us!"
Seldom has a ruler been in such a dilemma. At length
came help. From the military colony appeared rank
upon rank of veterans, marching in close order, at their
head a drum-major, as venerable and gray-bearded as
was the peasants' spokesman. I recognized them as
my grenadiers. They understood how to overcome the
obstacles in their way. A blast of the trumpet, and the
sappers advancing seized the peasants by their hands
and feet, and, heaping one upon another, made sum-
mary way for the brigade to pass. The drum-major,
planting his standard on the ground, said :
" ' " Sire, do not leave us in this cursed place. We
served you faithfully in the battle-field for fifteen years ;
we fought for you against Frenchmen, Germans, and
Italians ; and are we now to wage war against field-
mice, grasshoppers, caterpillars, and, what is worse,
peasants ? In our youth we learned to fight like bears ;
we don't want, in our old age, to learn to plough like
oxen. We understand how to use our guns and sabres,
but we are not handy with scythe and sickle, and must
SOPHIE 165
we be mocked .at by peasants ? Lead us into the enemy's
country, where behind every shrub lurks an ambush ;
but, for pity's sake, sire, do not leave us here among
your peasantry. Send us into the field against idolaters,
but do not leave us here to be cursed when we ask any-
thing ; cursed when we strike them ; cursed if we only
look at them. Shut us up in a beleaguered fortress,
where we have only the flesh of fallen horses to eat
must season it with powder instead of salt; and for
drink have only the water that runs down the walls ;
but do not condemn us to this forsaken spot on earth,
to labor for our bit of bread, envied by a set of thieving,
treacherous peasants. Bury us under the corpses of
our brothers on the field of battle, but do not bury us
alive in the military colony. Curses on him who first
thought of it !"
" ' Araktseieff here commanded the trumpeter to put
an end to the man's speech, but now peasants and
soldiers began to make such an uproar that the trumpet
notes were deadened. Tlia' (the Czar's coachman),
1 without awaiting orders, turned the horses' heads, and
we drove back the way by which we had come, but
avoiding the hideous arch. Thus ended my triumphal
progress. When I reached home I read in the papers
the glowing accounts of the ovations I had received.
The red sky had truly betokened storm.' This is what
my poor father told me."
" It is indeed sad for so mighty a Czar, when his
people will not be happy, whom he would fain make so.
My father's people were happier. Why does not your
father go to them ? They are his subjects."
" Bethsaba ! What a capital idea ! Don't let me for-
get it. I will propose it to him as soon as ever he is in
better spirits. Just now he is so depressed. After he
l66 THE GREEN BOOK
had said good-bye he came back to me again. * I for-
got to ask how you were ?' 'That proves,' said I, 'that
I must be looking well.' Looking anxiously at me, he
asked if my face was always as red as then ; and I,
laughing, said 'Yes. But why are you so anxious?
Does not the good God know how you love me ; and are
you not the anointed, the chosen one of Him to whom
you pray for my recovery to health ?' ' Yes, He knows,'
he answered, gloomily, ' that I love you. But was not
King David also His anointed, chosen servant? And
did not the king sing all night through his despairing,
penitential Psalm, and yet his child was taken from
him, in punishment of his sin with Bathsheba?'"
"Who was that Bathsheba?" broke in the king's
daughter. " It can only be another form for Bethsaba.
Was there really any one who bore that name before
me ? I have hitherto searched in vain to find a name-
sake in society or in the Calendar. Never have I been
able to find one. My godmother, Duchess Korynthia,
who named me so at my christening up to my sixth
year I was a heathen in answer to my question why I
could not find it in any Calendar, told me it was another
name for Elizabeth, and that St. Elizabeth's day was
my name-day ; and they give me presents on that day.
And now the Czar has told you that there really was a
Bathsheba. Who was she ?"
" I do not know any more than you. I have never
been taught anything about her, although I am curious
to know. I asked old Helena, and got from her that
Bathsheba was St. David's wife ; but that was all she
knew, for only the priests are allowed to read the Bible.
On that account it is written in Bulgarian."
"But why, then, should she not be among the saints
in the Calendar? 1 '
SOP! I IK 167
" Of course, because she was a Jewess !"
" But he said she had sinned. Oh, why did my god-
mother give me the name of a sinful woman ?" And
Bethsaba was ready to cry.
" Bethsaba, dear," said Sophie, "please don't tell any-
body what I have told you about the Czar's tour and
the triumphal arch. 1 '
" But if my godmother asks what we have been talk-
ing about ?"
" Tell her something else."
" What else ?"
" Make up a fib."
"A fib ! How does one do that ? I have never
done it."
Sophie Narishkin laughed in great amusement. She
had learned to lie and fib as quite a little child. In-
stead of " mamma " she had had to say " madam " ; and
if her father brought her bonbons to tell people that
" Nicolo " (la mere Cicogne) had brought them.
What old Helena told her she dared not repeat to
" madam " ; what she heard when with " madam " she
must not breathe a word of to old Helena ; what either
said must not be repeated to the Czar; and what the
Czar told her must be kept from every one. So she had
been so inured to lying that she had once brought her
doctor to the verge of despair when, on his trying to
find out her symptoms, her prevarications made a diag-
nosis next to impossible. How the poor child had re-
joiced when at last she found two beings to whom she
might really open her heart, her father and her friend !
" So you always tell every one all you know ?" she
asked Bethsaba.
"Oh no; although I do not understand the art of ly-
ing, if any one thinks to pump me, or to catch me una-
l68 THE GREEN BOOK
wares, I have my own way of being even with him. I
begin to ask so many questions that he or she is only
glad enough to leave me in peace."
At which they both laughed. The music of fresh
young laughter was rarely heard in that cage.
CHAPTER XVII
BETHSABA
PRINCESS GHEDIMIN had accorded her royal god-
daughter permission to visit her friend, Sophie Narish-
kin, frequently. To one but partially acquainted with
the Princess's secret heart, such intimacy was easily ex-
plained. As appearances forbade her personally from
visiting the child, at least through Bethsaba she could
obtain news of her health.
But to one in possession of the whole truth there was
yet another cogent reason.
The Czar, that reserved, laconic man, who had secrets
from his ministers, and did not even confess to the
priests, was in the habit of telling this favorite daughter
everything. When an ordinary father confides things to
an idolized daughter they are matters of feeling ; if that
father be the Czar, what he confides are matters of
state.
Every word the Czar utters to Sophie Narishkin must
necessarily concern the condition of the country. Alex-
ander I.'s words form the basis of Europe's present and
future relations. The softening or hardening of his
heart betokens peace or war. In that heart of his rest
the mysteries of great developments or upsettings of na-
tions.
BETHSABA 169
And Sophie has no secrets from her bosom friend,
Bethsaba.
" Well, dear child, how did you find your little friend
to-day?" asked the Princess, on Bethsaba's return.
" She is taking her medicine more regularly ; and, I
think, it is doing her good ; for I tasted one of her
powders one day, and it was very nasty and bitter."
" Was she not talking a great deal again ? Talking is
bad for convalescents."
" She told me that she had had a visit from her god-
father."
Bethsaba had so far learned to "fib" that she said
"godfather" instead of "father."
" Did he stay long with her ?"
"I do not know."
" Did he tell her anything of interest ?"
" Oh yes ; about King David and his wife Bathsheba.
Do tell me, what was Bathsheba' s fault?"
" Bathsheba' s fault! What makes you ask me such
a question ?"
" Because he spoke about it ; and I want to know what
it was. Why is no one called after her ? And if she
was so wicked, I don't want to bear her name either.
Give me some other."
" Quiet, silly child ! She did nothing wrong."
" But Sophie's godfather told her that she had com-
mitted sin with King David."
" It was love, and no sin."
"Love! What is that?"
Maria Alexievna Korynthia laughed aloud.
" Now, am I to tell you what is love ? You will
know soon enough, child, when you fall in love your-
self."
" How shall I do that ? Is love an evil which attacks
170 THE GREEN BOOK
people like an illness, or is it a good thing for which
people long ?"
Maria Alexievna Korynthia laughed still louder.
" Both together !"
" How does it begin ?"
" When a young man looks deep into your eyes."
"Into my eyes ? I could not endure that; I should
die outright."
"But suppose the young man wanted to make you his
wife, and became engaged to you?"
" How can all that come about ? I cannot imagine it."
"The young man might begin by sending the girl
some special birthday present."
" And that would mean that he was in love with her ?
And if the girl accepted his present, would it mean that
she was in love with him ? Oh, how nice,, how delight-
ful ! Must the girl make him a present too ?"
" Only her love."
"Nothing else? Oh, how pretty, how charming!
And suppose some other young man gives us hand-
somer presents, do we accept them too, and love him as
well?"
Korynthia clapped her hands with amusement.
" Yes, of course. But only if one can keep the second
lover secret from the first."
" No, no. No secret dealings. I would rather con-
fess that I loved another too. And why not, if love
is good, and no crime ? For instance, when I have a
husband, may I not tell him that I love strawberries ?"
" Strawberries ! Oh yes. That is only eating."
" May I tell him that I love Sophie Narishkin ?"
" Oh yes. That is only friendship."
" And would he behead me if he knew my love for
dancing ?"
BETHSABA 171
"Of course not."
" Then if I may love strawberries, dancing, and my
friend, why not a youth, if he be good and handsome? '
"Oh, precious innocence! Do people never talk
about love in your country ?"
"Never."
" Are there, then, no youths and maidens ?"
" Of course there are. But in our country, when a
young man wants to marry a girl he settles her price
with her father and takes her home. If she is lovin"
O
and faithful to him, he buys her costly clothing , if not,
he turns her away and buys himself another wife."
" That is not the custom here. Here a woman may
only love one husband ; this is commanded by our re-
ligion !"
" That is quite different. Why did you not tell -me
at once that love is commanded by religion ? Oh, I will
faithfully follow the dictates of religion ! You do, too,
don't you ? Vou love your husband ? Do you look deep
into his eyes? I have never noticed it."
" Ah, child, life is long ; and the. season of love, we
call the honeymoon, all too short."
" Then the honeymoon, or month, should be portioned
out into minutes, and minutes into seconds, that each
day of one's life should have one such second."
"You will soon find the impossibility of that."
" Now I know that Bathsheba's sin was in not loving
the man whom her religion commanded her to love. Yet
what had King David to do with all that?"
Yes ; Korynthia, too, would fain have known how
King David got mixed up in the Czar's talk. For the
chattering girl had so confused her with her endless,
inconsequent questions that she never thought of the
prophet's words of reproof to the king.
172 THE GREEN BOOK
A Russian is reticent beyond all men. None save the
Czar dared to allude to the affair of the triumphal arch.
Araktseieff was silent, because he did not want the fiasco
connected with his military- colony scheme to spread.
The detachment of Cossack guards were despatched to
Kasan, and those others who had been present knew
how to observe profoundest silence as to what had taken
place.
CHAPTER XVIII
KORYNTHIA
THE young Circassian Princess could not have been
in a better school than that of Princess Ghedimin.
Korynthia might have served as a type to that Rus-
sian naturalist who, outdoing Darwin, endeavored to
prove that women are degenerate cats. In vain, be it
here mentioned, was it sought to soften him so far as to
modify his views into their being a race of ennobled
cats. He stuck to his opinion. The beautiful Koryn-
thia could be coquettish as an Aspasia, stonily cold as a
Diana. This time, however, it was not Diana, but As-
pasia, who changed her lover into Acteon.
The men whom she thus distinguished with her favors,
like Chevalier Galban, never succeeded in unravelling
the riddle of the lovely sphinx. Korynthia allowed him
to accompany her in hunts, danced with him at balls,
gave him her bouquet to hold when dancing with an-
other man, laughed at his sallies, made fun of others
with him, even kissed him at parting, the while holding
him as far off as a planet its satellites and of such
satellites she had more than Saturn each and all per-
KORYNTHIA 173
mitted to revolve about her, none to approach her too
near.
Yet when in society she fixed a man with a stony look
of a goddess, acknowledging his bow with the contrac-
tion of the lips by which great ladies express, at once,
disdain and reproach, he was the man for whom her
heart was cherishing secret flames.
No one knew it, for he, thus signalled out, an officer
of the guards, distinguished alike for his genius and his
many gay adventures, was careful to keep to himself that
one day a perfumed note was brought him by a mys-
terious messenger, and on opening the delicately tinted
envelope he read : " An unknown benefactress, who is
interested in your fate, is ready to pay off all your debts
if you will stay away at nights from Fraulein Ilmarinen's
Saturnalia."
We think we are not mistaken when we take, in con-
nection with the above, the usurer's speech, who cer-
tainly did not volunteer it without good grounds : " There
are certain young, rich, and lovely ladies in St. Peters-
burg who are ready to come to the aid of a young officer
whom I could name."
The young Endymion's reply to the perfumed note
was that night to enter the proscribed Eleusis on the
box-seat of Zeneida's sledge.
Korynthia's hatred of Zeneida was not on account of
her husband, but of Pushkin. Zeneida's position with
regard to Prince Ghedimin was only superficial. The
devotion of great nobles to prima donnas is merely a
matter of fashion, and of cutting two ways. "What is
allowed to you is allowed to me!" The things which
rankle most in the Princess's mind are that her rival
possesses a finer exotic garden than she does ; that she
has finer horses ; and that whenever thev meet her
174 THE GREEN BOOK
toilets are unquestionably triumphant. And they are
constantly meeting ; for her fame as an artiste opens
all doors to Zeneida. They meet at brilliant balls;
their horses are pitted together on the turf; their car-
riages are in juxtaposition at reviews ; and the Princess
is convinced that all this luxury is derived from her hus-
band's Siberian silver-mines, which enable their owner
to indulge in the amusement of permitting two women
to outrival each other in the art of squandering. Could
she but come out conqueror in the strife, she could for-
give the artist her extravagance ; but never would she
forget that she, a Princess, had had to give in to her
even one hair's-breadth. Here was the second ground
of her hatred of Zeneida.
There was still a third. The moment of weakness,
which in her early youth had made her all his life long
an important factor in the life of the Czar, was forgot-
ten ; had been long buried in oblivion. The Czarina
was the object of universal admiration, sympathy, and
worship ; and she was seen to be visibly fading be-
fore people's eyes. Public opinion, indeed, became so
strong in the matter that it was often a question in
secret societies whether there should not be a repe-
tition of what occurred in the reign of Peter III. and
Catherine II., to make the Czar prisoner and proclaim
Elisabeth reigning Czarina. And, withal, Princess Ghe-
dimin knew herself to stand nearer to the Czar's heart
than did the Czarina; a silken cord Sophie Narish-
kin held them together. No such silken cord of
union existed for Elisabeth. Alexander's love for her
as a husband had been buried forever in the grave
of the last child she had borne to him. And here,
once more, did Korynthia find her detested rival in her
KORYNTHIA 175
While the Czar avoided her, he lavished the wealth
of his favor upon Zeneida. The prima" donna stood
between Czar and Czarina. Both loved and petted her.
They were never together save when Zeneida made a
third. When listening to her singing, reading aloud, or
the charm of her pleasant talk, the imperial couple would
forget their mutual estrangement and draw together;
when, on the contrary, the Czarina, appearing at some
court festivity leaning on the Czar's arm, would come
face to face with the Princess, their arms would fall ab-
ruptly apart, and they would turn away from each other.
That she knew right well. And, withal, she must dis-
play her favors to those who were indifferent to her, ap-
pear haughty and disdainful to those she would fain have
encouraged, seern affectionate to the husband she hated,
be humble to the man on whom she had a claim, and
play the magnanimous protectress to the rival of whom
she was jealous. Jealousy is terrible enough when it
has one head ; how much more when it has three ! The
three heads of her jealousy were : passion, pride, and
remembrance.
And to her had been intrusted the bringing up of the
Circassian king's daughter ! The Princess began her
task by giving her at her christening a name which the
world then, and now, can only have condoned for sake of
the psalmist king, David.
Bethsaba was fortunate in that she united to her in-
experience and innocence a considerable fund of imag-
inative fancy and the characteristic cunning of her peo-
ple. Moreover, she remembered many a saying of her
good mother, whom now she sees but once a year-
on New-year's day, when some forty thousand people
assemble to pay allegiance to the imperial pair in the
great Throne Room. There stands her mother on one
176 THE GREEN BOOK
of the steps of the throne ; but her brow, instead of wear-
ing a crown, wears furrows. And as often as Bethsaba
looks upon her does she remember that her mother, to
whom she may not speak, exchanged her crown for
those furrows, because she stabbed the man who dared
to say to her, "I love you; give me your love in return."
Then she would begin to ponder over what that
"love" could be which had made it so easy for one to
slay and the other to die. At one time it would seem
good and sweet, and one's duty; at another, evil, full of
pain, and, above all, sinful.
CHAPTER XIX
THE MONSTER
KRIZSANOWSKI had just ended his report of the St.
Petersburg conference to which a pale lady had lent
most careful attention when the duenna, keeping guard,
entered hurriedly, and whispered, "Araktseieff has
come." Then as quickly retreated.
" Oh, heavens !" sighed the pale lady, pressing her
hands convulsively to her bosom.
" Now be strong as a man," whispered Krizsanowski.
"The decisive moment is at hand !"
" Can it be that that brings him ?" she asked, trem-
blingly.
" Not a doubt of it. Look well to your women, for he
brings an arch spy with him. Handsome and danger-
ous with the sex."
Just then the sound of carriage-wheels was audible in
the courtyard below, amid much noise and the harsh
tones of a man's voice.
THE MONSTER 177
" Make haste away ! The Grand Duke is coming !"
the pale lady whispered to Krizsanowski.
He, rising, took her hand in his.
Again the duenna appeared, this time rushing in,
and saying, breathlessly :
"The Grand Duke is back from the manoeuvres. Just
as they drove in at the gate one of the horses stumbled,
the outrider was thrown, and the Grand Duke's pipe was
so jolted that it broke one of his front teeth. He is wild
with rage."
"Alas!'' exclaimed the lady, and was hastening out.
Krizsanowski held her back.
"You would do well just now to keep out of his way."
"On the contrary, it is just now that I must hurry to
him," she answered, freeing herself from Krizsanowski's
hold. " But you hasten away from here, that no one
sees you."
" Well, then, be strong as a woman,," he murmured,
and disappeared.
Yet it was so difficult to disappear. Krizsanowski
was in the palace of Belvedere, in the royal park of
Lazienka, the residence of the Polish Viceroy, outside
Warsaw. The park was surrounded by a great wall,
guarded on all sides by armed soldiers. The castle it-
self a fortress, with high bastions and intrenchments, a
deep moat round it, and drawbridge ; every outlet was
protected by an embrasure, there was no evading the
sentries. Within cannon -range the noble forest-trees
had been cleared away, and turf laid down adorned with
tulip-beds. It is humanly impossible to go or come un-
perceivecl. And yet Krizsanowski did succeed in get-
ting away, although Grand Duke Constantine had had
the Belvedere built to his own plan, and had watched
its construction with his own eyes. It was impossible
12
178 THE GREEN BOOK
that there should be any secret passage unknown to
him and yet, supposing one did exist? The architect
had been a Pole. He was capable of constructing a
secret passage by night, and so building it up again that
the Grand Duke had no notion of its existence. And
so it really was. Constantine might have been sur-
prised in his bed any night were not assassination de-
testable to a Pole.
His wife hurried out to meet him.
The tyrant met her in the armory hall. He was ex-
actly as his contemporaries have described. Imagina-
tion had not run riot.
The Grand Duke had reason enough to be wroth
with his brothers. They had all inherited their moth-
er's beauty and noble presence. He alone possessed
his father's repulsive features and person. Czar Paul
was the impersonation of ugliness, so hideous in ap-
pearance that he would allow no coin bearing his ef-
figy to be struck throughout the whole course of his
reign. And Constantine was a faithful counterpart of
his father. His enormous horn-shaped nose stood out
from his face as if it had no connection with his fore-
head ; his little sea-green eyes were scarce visible under
his thick, shaggy eyebrows and blinking, almost shut,
eyelids. His hair, beard, eyebrows, and eyelashes were
the color of hemp, his face red as Russia leather. But
the most remarkable thing about him was that the one
half of his face was unlike the other, as though Nature
had intended to crown her master-work of ugliness by
joining together two different caricatures. One corner
of the mouth was turned up, the other down ; the scars
of small-pox, wrinkles, warts, so completed the disfigure-
ment that the painter who would have perpetuated the
face could only have attempted it in profile. In fact,
THK MONSTER 179
the artist who would have painted him full -face would
have been guilty of high- treason. So he is described
by contemporary writers.
His exterior was the true picture of his inner man ;
his features were the slaves of his passions. To look at
him was to make one shudder or deride. As was his
face, so was his disposition violent, passionate, cruel
to a degree. He carried a stick always in his hand, and
laid it about him freely. Jf it be true that his brother,
the Czar, spent two thousand rubles a year in quill pens,
it may be guessed what amount Constantine's yearly
budget showed for smashed walking-sticks. The stick
he now held in his hand was broken and split all
the way up. No doubt he had been again laying it
impartially about the shoulders of the several com-
mandants of division. Their morning prayers were
blows.
And there must needs come this accident. And
through the confounded horse stumbling, and the pos-
tilions being thrown, the pipe, which was never out of
the Grand Duke's mouth, had hurt his gum and broken
him a tooth. He uttered the most horrible oaths, spit-
ting out blood the while.
"Cursed hound! As soon. as he comes to himself
throw him into the water to rouse him! Bring him
here. Miserable rascal ! I'll break all his bones for
him !" Just then he became aware of a gentleman
advancing towards him. "Who is that? Chevalier
Galban ? No, you fools that hound, I mean; not
this gentleman ! What does he want ? AraktseiefT
has come? The devil take Humph! It's the bar-
ber I want, and not a minister. Can't he see I've got
a broken tooth ? Why are you hanging about, Chev-
alier Galban ?''
l8o THE GREEN BOOK
At that moment a lady, coming hurriedly up, pushed
the Chevalier aside.
" For Heaven's sake, what has happened to you ?" she
cried, throwing herself on Constantine's breast. "My
life, my dearest, are you wounded ? What is it?" And
she kissed his bleeding lips.
Over the monster's face dawned a sudden smile -a
smile joyous as the aurora borealis, sad as the depths it
was, but it transformed the Grand Duke's hideous face.
It chased away his violence. The wild, rugged features
became more harmonious ; the brutal mouth endeavored
to assume a gentle expression.
" Nothing, nothing, my love !" he replied, in the voice
of a lion caressing its mate. " Now, now, do not cry.
Don't be frightened!" his voice growing lower and
lower. " There is nothing the matter."
" Oh, but your lips are bleeding. Your tooth is bro-
ken."
And she tried to stanch the blood with her handker-
chief.
" It is not broken clean out," growled Constantine.
" Only the crown of it. And the devil take the crown !"
" Why, your Highness," put in Galban, beginning to
take part in the conversation, which had assumed so
much milder a tone, " do you say, ' May the devil take
the crown' ?"
" At present it is only the crown of my tooth that is
under discussion," returned the Viceroy, emphatically,
in somewhat trembling tones. " Go you to Araktseieff,
Chevalier Galban, and rest awhile after the fatigues of
the journey. We shall have time for our talk after
dinner. Before I have eaten and drunk I am in no
mood to talk over state matters. Do not spoil my ap-
petite. Zdravtvijtje ! And as for you, bring that good-
THE MONSTER l8l
for-nothing here as soon as he has come to himself. I
will try a couple of good boxes on the ear to see if his
teeth are set like mine. The scoundrel ! If I had not
been holding my pipe pretty firmly between my teeth
the mouth-piece would have pierced through my jugu-
lar"
"Oh, don't!" stammered his .wife, in superstitious
dread, laying her trembling hands over the Grand Duke's
mouth.
He, pressing a kiss upon the palm of her outstretched
hand, threw his arm round her waist, and she, nestling
up to him, they retired to their inner apartments, leaving
Chevalier Galban standing in the hall.
" So you really would grieve if I were brought to you
one day dead, run through the chest to my back ?"
"Oh, do not say such things !" exclaimed she, making
the sign of the cross over the spot to which Constantine
pointed. And to smother such fearful words she shut
his mouth with a long, fervent kiss.
" Child !" murmured the monster, and, taking his wife's
head between his two hands, like a bear hugging the
head of a lamb, he looked into her eyes. "Child!
Does it not go against you to kiss my mouth ? Do not
the fumes of tobacco disgust you ?"
With an innocent glance, she answered :
" I suppose every man's mouth emits the same smell
of tobacco. I remember my father's did."
At these words the monster pressed her with such
force to himself as though he would stifle her in his em-
brace.
" Oh, wondrous child ! She knows neither the lies
nor the flatteries of a court lady. She does not tell me
that my breath is ambrosian. She only knows that it
was so when her father kissed her, and therefore the
182 THE GREEN BOOK
lips of every man must be the same ! Wife of mine, my
father was as hideous as I am, and his wife loved him
as dearly as you do me. And yet he was as repulsive
as I."
" You cannot tell what you are like."
"Oh yes, I know. My mother used to tell me. She
loved me best of all her children; spoiled me; allowed
me my own way in everything. When my brothers and
sisters used to complain about it, she would say, 'Let
him alone. It is because he has his father's ugliness
that I love him so.' But I am a bad man too, and that
my father never was. True, he was hot-headed, and a
blow was as quick as a word with him ; but I am savage
by instinct. I am bad because I like it."
" That is not true. Who says so ?"
" I say it myself. Often when I come home with an
inch of cane in my hand, having broken it on the backs
of all who have come in my way, I feel as if I could break
the rest of it on my own head." Here, for the first time
noticing that the broken cane still hung from his wrist
by the strap, he flung it hastily from him.
"No, no, dear," said his wife, "it is that bad men
exasperate you to wrath. You have to do with rough
people who are stupid and cunning, and that irritates
you. If they were good you would treat them kindly."
The monster stroked his wife's cheeks with caressing
hand.
"And you really believe that I am good? Wonder-
ful ! I should have thought I had done enough to give
proof to the contrary. I thought I was a very devil."
Meanwhile his wife had coaxed the monster to her
dressing-room, and, sitting him down before the toilet-
table, had been busily occupied by the aid of all manner
of brushes and combs in bringing hair and beard into
THE MONSTER 183
something like order. Then she bathed his hot, dusty
face with lily water, and stuck court-plaster over the cut
on his mouth.
" Am I a pretty boy now ?" said he, with the look of a
child who has just had his face washed.
"That you always are to me. But to-day you \\ill
have strangers dining with you."
"True. And, moreover, grand gentlemen from St.
Petersburg from our Russian Paris. Of course they
are accustomed to smart folk, so make me smart. How
do we know whether these Frenchified gentlemen will
like your Polish cookery ? You make light of it, after
the manner of women-folk, and then they'll praise it."
" Do you wish me to appear at the table ?"
" Of course. Why not ? Even were the Czar himself
my guest! Are you not my own little wife? Come,
answer ; are you not my very own little wife ?"
She answered a timid " Yes."
" I would not advise any one who values sound limbs
in his body to presume to look down upon you, Excel-
lency or no Excellency!" cried the Viceroy, wrathfully,
menacing his own face with his fists in the glass.
"True, this Araktseieff was devoted hand and foot to
my father he followed him about like a clog. Yet, for
all that, I'd rather know him to be safe on the island which
Kotzebue named after him, in the Yellow Sea, than here."
" Why, dearest ?" asked his wife, as she tied and ar-
ranged the Grand Duke's necktie.
" Oh, women have nothing to do with state secrets,"
he answered, as he strove to twirl the ends of his mus-
tache evenly an attempt in which all his efforts were
unavailing, for one side would not keep together. Woe
to the private if the Grand Duke's eyes lighted on an ill-
waxed mustache ! " I only tell you he may esteem him-
184 THE GREEN BOOK
self a lucky man if I have no cane at hand during our
interview."
" Oh, don't terrify me, dearest !"
" I was only joking. May I not have my bit of fun ?
Well, are we ready now ? I am hungry. I have been
working all the morning like any corporal."
" We will go, then. Won't you choose out one of
your sticks ?"
In every room of the palace where the Grand Duke
went, even in his wife's dressing-room, stood a couple of
sticks ; and it was as much as any one's life was worth
to move them from where he placed them.
"A stick? For what? I am not lame."
"No; but to chastise the culprit, he who ran you
into such danger. You might have been killed. He
well deserves to be punished."
" Does he, really ? Well, then, you choose one. What,
this good, stout one ? Ah, that won't break so easily.
So you feel more for me than for the man who injured
me ? Come, that is a rare trait in your sex. Women
usually expend their sympathy on the guilty. Now, then,
let us be off."
Johanna took Constantine's left arm ; the stick was in
his right hand. In the armory hall the delinquent, with
head bound up and swollen cheeks, was awaiting sen-
tence. He trembled like a clog when. he saw the Grand
Duke in the doorway.
" You scoundrel !" snorted the monster, swishing his
cane threateningly through the air. " You deserve a
good sound hiding ! Can you not look out when you
are driving ? So you have got badly hurt ? There, take
these five rubles buy yourself doctor's stuff with them.
Gallows bird ! What, you limp ! Then take the stick to
walk with, you good-for-nothing !"
THE MONSTER 185
And he passed on with his wife.
A monster arm in arm with his good genius !
" Humph !" growled the Grand Duke. " It is odd.
You have discovered the better self within me; and
now it almost seems as if I, too, were sensible of
it."
The two gentlemen were already in the dining-hall.
There were no other guests. The Viceroy was not par-
ticularly hospitable ; nor had he much occasion to exer-
cise that virtue, for the people over whom he ruled came
but seldom to the palace. But they must stand high in
favor who were allowed to sit at his table when his wife,
Johanna, was present.
AraktseiefT was one of these privileged ones. The two
men had seen each other shed tears once only, and no
other eye had witnessed it. The occasion was when first
they met after Czar Paul's death. The faithful follower
loved the dead man as fondly as did the monster. Others
breathed a sigh of relief when the grave closed over
him. The world was rid of a burden ! The assassins
were pardoned; some even attained to high positions as
generals. Two men only never forgave them Grand
Duke Constantine and AraktseiefT. When, at Austerlitz,
the French surrounded General Bennigsen, Constantine
charged them like a Berserker, at the head of a com-
pany of Dragoon Guards, and, with the daring of a wild
animal, rescued him from their midst, only to call out
later to him, " I have saved your life, and you were
one of my father's assassins !" It was this common
hatred which enabled him to "suffer" AraktseiefT.
He "suffered" him. And that meant a great deal
with him. Moreover, Araktseieff was a minister who
could be beaten be sent away and yet who always
came back again.
l86 THE GREEN BOOK
" Zdravtazjtye !" was the Grand Duke's salutation to
his guests. "One can still talk Russian with you, eh ?
You have not grown into full-fledged Frenchmen ? Kiss
my wife's hand !"
Chevalier Galban carried out this injunction with all
a courtier's grace. Araktseieff, with the unction charac-
teristic of the genuine Russian peasant, pressing the
lady's hand with both of his to his lips, amid many
long-winded compliments, finally ending up with an
amorous sigh.
" Ah ! the sight of this domestic happiness, this * sweet
home,' reminds me of my own home."
Johanna alone was unconscious of the deep affront
hidden in these words. But her very unconsciousness
incensed the Grand Duke the more ; his face crimsoned
with wrath. It was well that he had but now made a
present of his cane, else it would emphatically have ex-
pressed on AraktseiefFs back, " My good man, this is
not Daimona !"
"Don't talk bosh!" growled the imperial host; "but
toss off a glass of schnapps in good Russian style. I
can't stand your foreign fads and fashions French
compliments and German maunderings. I never could
learn a foreign language. I dare say you well remem-
ber, Araktseieff, the sort of school-boy I made ! My
poor tutor ! When he used to try to impress on me to
work hard, I would answer him, 'What for? You are
always learning and learning, and are only an usher,
after all !' "
" Better still was the answer your Imperial Highness
gave to your professor of geography : * I do not learn
geography ; I make it !' "
"All very fine. But you see I do not make it."
" All in good time."
THE MONSTER 187
"Shut up. Here comes the soup; set to work, and
don't talk. And keep silence, gentlemen, while my wife
says grace; she does the praying for me. And now,
no serious subjects during dinner. Anecdotes are al-
lowed, drinking is a duty, swearing is not forbidden ;
but he who makes a coarse speech in presence of my
wife must straightway make full apology to her. If you
get short commons, I must beg you, in my wife's name,
to excuse it ; she was not prepared for guests. That our
fare is strictly national Russian and Polish needs no
excuse. I cannot abide French cookery; their names
are enough to my ears, let alone the kickshaws them-
selves to my digestion ! And as for my wife, they are
positively injurious to her !"
Chevalier Galban had his word to say:
" Oh, French cooks are swells among us just now.
The family * Robert ' are quite aristocrats in St. Peters-
burg; it confers nobility to possess one of them in one's
household. His French cook is a greater personage
than the Czar himself ; for he makes out the Czar's daily
menu, and suffers no supervision in his domain. He
is a more important man than the family physician, for
he rules strong and weak alike. What he refuses to
serve up is unobtainable. M. Robert does what the
Polish Senate alone was empowered to do when the
'niepozwolim ' was yet in fashion. If his master sends
word that he desires this or that dish that day at
table, M. Robert meets him with his liberuin veto,
which in French implies, ' Q a n'existe pas /' Quite
recently Prince Narishkin sent for his cook, that he
might repeat to him by word of mouth his written
refusal to prepare a blanc- mange for the dinner-
table."
"What, did he give an audience to the fellow?"
l88 THE GREEN BOOK
"Yes; and M. Robert repeated his refusal verbally.
The Prince began giving him a piece of his mind, when
the chef, rising on his heels, said, * Sir, you forget to
whom you are speaking !' "
" The devil ! And what was the end of the story?"
"Well, the Prince went without his blanc-mange."
" Ah, ah ! That would just suit me. I should be for
eating up the cook instead of his dishes."
Chevalier Galban was a capital talker; he took the
chief burden of the conversation upon himself.
"A funny thing happened at St. Petersburg a few days
ago, at Prince PopradofFs, who has a French cook, and
a French tutor for the children. The cook was but so-
so ; the tutor no great pedagogue. All of a sudden the
cook was taken ill, and confusion reigned. The tutor
offered his services, saying he knew a little about cook-
ery, and he was forthwith despatched to the kitchen, where
he sent up seven excellent dinners. Meanwhile the sick
cook offered to carry on the little prince's tuition, and he
made surprising progress. To make a long story short,
both confessed to have only taken their situations from
necessity, and, in fact, to have changed departments."
" And the Prince had not found it out ? You must
tell that story to my wife, more in detail, when you go
into the drawing-room. Let us now speak of more im-
portant things. How was my august brother the Em-
peror Alexander, Araktseieff, when you left him ?"
As he named the Czar the Grand Duke had risen, in
which action he was followed by the others.
*' I regret, your Highness, to be unable to give a satis-
factory answer to that question."
"What is the matter, then, with his Majesty my
brother ? Eh ? Or can you not speak out before my
wife ? All right. You do well not to startle her. You
THE MONSTER 189
shall tell me when we are alone. And how is her Majes-
ty the Czarina Elisabeth? Are there any unpleasant-
nesses between them ? . If you have no good news to give,
better say nothing before my wife. Do not trouble her."
Araktseieff, in the face of this caution, found it wiser
to lick his fingers and say nothing.
" It's always the case when a man marries too young!"
resumed the Grand Duke, picking his teeth with his two-
pronged fork. " I found that out myself, and had cause
to repent it. Well, thank Heaven, that's past ! I had
work enough before I could obtain a separation from
my first wife. But we won't talk of that before my wife.
After all, it was I who was in fault ; I who was to blame.
A woman who could put up with me is as rare as a
comet. And how does the world wag with you, Galban ;
have you got caught yet ? Who is the unlucky woman
who calls you husband? If I were the Czar I would
levy a tax upon all such bachelors as you. The old-
bachelor tax ! Lucky for you that I shall never come to
the throne."
"Your Highness! It was an understood thing that
we touched upon no serious subjects at table," observed
Araktseieff, deferentially.
" Yes ; you are right. I was infringing the rule. To
make amends, let us empty our glasses to my wife's
health."
The men's three glasses clinked together, then touched
the fourth, extended to them by a white hand, while the
fiery Tokay moistened a delicate red lip. Dinner was
over, dessert on the table. The Grand Duke only took
hazelnuts, which' he cracked with his teeth. The first
three he laid on Johanna's plate.
For the first time since she sat down to dinner she
spoke, and then but in a whisper.
190 THE GREEN BOOK
" Oh, please be careful about your teeth. You might
break away another crown !"
" That may be !" said the Grand Duke, leaning his
elbows on the table, and darting a quick glance from
under his bushy eyebrows at Araktseieff, who under-
stood it. Then Constantine kissed his wife's forehead.
"Now leave us, darling. Have coffee served on the
terrace, and take the Chevalier with you. He likes to
end up dinner with his coffee in French fashion. While
we, like good Poles, will sit over our wine a little longer."
On this Johanna, rising, took the Chevalier's arm, and,
followed by a footman carrying the silver coffee equi-
page, left the clining-hall.
The two men, left alone, applied themselves to the
wine, filling up their glasses a fourth time with golden
Tokay.
"To the health of my august brother the Czar!"
They drained their glasses and refilled them.
"In truth, the Czar stands in sore need of that fervent
aspiration!" quoth Araktseieff, with a deep sigh.
" What ! is he seriously ill, then ? What ails him ?"
"He is suffering from the malady hardest to cure
melancholia. All the doctors' arts are of no avail. For
months together the Czar gets no sleep, save a short, un-
refreshing siesta at noon. By night and clay he is tortured
by all kinds of fancies. He is weary of life ; and what
wonder? Wherever he looks he sees nothing but ruin
and decay in all that which he so painfully built up.
The dreams he cherished are dispelled. Every institu-
tion for promoting liberty of thought and action which
he called into life has he been himself compelled, one
by one, to annul and abolish. And he has no spirit
or energy left to pull himself together and devise new
schemes. He feels that he has aroused disaffection,
THE MONSTER 19 1
and has not the moral strength to become a tyrant and
quell that disaffection. He knows himself to be sur-
rounded by assassins, and has not energy to take firm
hold of the only weapon which remains to him. More-
over, his domestic happiness is ruined. Your Imperial
Highness knows the catastrophe. The Czar's spirit is
clouded by the weight of religious depression ; he looks
upon himself as an irremediable sinner, condemned alike
by God and man. Shudderingly surveying the fatality,
he is hurrying it on. A mental condition such as this
must in the end undermine the strongest constitution.
The slightest indisposition might prove fatal at any mo-
ment ; and he takes not the slightest care of himself.
He will suffer no physician about him, and keeps his ail-
ments secret. It is my firm belief that in his heart is
the seat of disease, and that the heart is wounded to
death."
" My poor brother !" muttered the Grand Duke, rest-
ing his head on his hand. " That noble, powerful fel-
low, by whose side I was at the victory of Leipsic, when
he concluded peace with Napoleon on the island in the
Niemen, and in the triumphal entry into Paris ; and in
Vienna, at the Congress ; and wherever we went I heard
people whisper, 'There he is, that splendid-looking man
beside the deformed one !' Light and shadow ; we were
their true exponents."
" We must be prepared for the worst. The feeble
flame which still feeds that light needs but a breath to
extinguish it, and then the whole country will be given
up to most terrible anarchy. The ground is under-
mined by countless conspiracies; we are menaced on all
sides. Who can withstand the flood when the gates of
heaven are opened ? The Czar has no children. Who
is to succeed him ?"
192 THE GREEN BOOK
" He whom the Czar appoints."
" And supposing he appoints no one ? It is, indeed,
impossible to get him to do so. The law, he says,
speaks plainly enough it is the Czarevitch who suc-
ceeds the Czar."
The Grand Duke burst into a loud laugh. He threw
himself back in his chair in his fit of laughter; he laughed
till his open jaws disclosed two rows of teeth like those
of a yawning lion.
" Ha, ha, ha! That's a good one the Czarevitch!
No, my friend, he is much obliged; he would rather not
sit on the throne ! You don't catch me wearing Ivan's
diamond crown !"
44 Why not, your Highness ?"
" Because I prefer to see your ribbon across your
back than about my throat !"
Czar Paul had been strangled by his adjutant's ribbon.
"What are you thinking of, your Highness ?"
"Of my father and of my people. I should be a
pretty fellow for the St. Petersburgers ! Last year, when
my illustrious brother the Czar, thinking himself in a
bad way, was gracio'usly pleased to command my pres-
ence, and I repaired to the capital, Hui ! there was a
panic ! They began to take steps to appoint me his suc-
cessor. As soon as I showed my face in the streets
they were cleared in a trice. People took refuge in
doorways rather than salute me. Ah ! how they flocked
into the churches! The sacristan had never had so
many kopecs in his alms -bag as while I was in St. Pe-
tersburg. The priests almost dragged the angels by the
feet out from heaven in their fervent supplications for
the Czar's recovery. They sketched a caricature of my
profile, with my huge nose, at every street corner, with
all manner of slanders beneath it ! And when it pleased
THE MONSTER 193
Providence to restore my imperial brother so far that
he could drive out again, there were rejoicings. The
people thronged round his carriage, hardly allowing the
horses room to plant their feet, and almost buried him
under flowers. And all this to show their hatred to me.
Not that they loved him, but because they dreaded me.
You just now said that even he is surrounded on all
sides by assassins; but the difference is that they would
despatch him to heaven, me to hell. They believe they
would find in me the son of my father a man with iron
hand for their iron necks, as was my sainted father."
" And that is what they need ! The Russian's iron
neck only bends to the hand of iron.''
" Well, let them have it ; but Heaven preserve me
from them,' and them from me !"
" But every true man sets his hopes upon your High-
ness !"
"Eh ! Time enough for that. But why are we talk-
ing such folly ? Why should I survive him ? I am but
eighteen months his junior. Fill your glass. Long
life to my brother his Majesty, the Czar ! And what
else brings you hither ? We will speak no more of
that."
"I came with a commission from his Imperial Maj-
esty. It is his pleasure that the succession be now
settled. The Czar has no heir."
"Well, no more have I! But one may be on the
way as you see I have recently married."
"So I see; but only left-handed. A morganatic
marriage."
" So far. But as soon as my wife bears me a child I
will make her my legitimate wife."
"That is not possible to your Highness."
"Why not?"
13
194 THE GREEN BOOK
" Because your Highness's first wife, Anna Feodo-
rovna, is still living."
" But the Synod has granted me a separation, and
she has already renounced the name of Anna Feodo-
rovna and resumed that of Juliana of Saxe-Coburg;
moreover, my fresh marriage was entered upon with the
sanction of the Czar."
" But it was only a left-handed marriage."
" Then we will convert it into a right-handed one."
"That is impossible. In the State Archives is a
ukase of Czar Alexander to the effect that only women
descending from reigning families may be raised to the
imperial throne, and the descendants of those who are
not of royal birth may not inherit the throne."
"Then when I which Heaven forbid come to the
throne I will promulgate another ukase annulling that
one."
" But there is a further obstacle, which not even the
Czar's ukase can overcome. Your Highness is aware
that a woman may not ascend the imperial throne unless
she be of the Orthodox faith. Does your Highness be-
lieve that Johanna Grudzinska would abjure the Roman
Catholic faith for a crown ?"
" Not for all the crowns in Europe ! The heart of
that woman is so stanch that she would scarce change
a horse grown old in her service for a young one ! Still
less would she change her religion. I would not advise
any one to try it on her."
"And there is yet another still greater obstacle than
even that of religion society. Is St. Petersburg society
to be exiled from the Czar's palace ? Johanna Grud-
zinska may be a very angel of light, but she would
by no means make a Czarirja whom the Ghedimins,
Narishkins, Trubetzuois, Muravieffs, and whatever all
THE MONSTER 195
their names may be, would be willing to acknowledge to
stand on a par with themselves, still less to whom they
may pay allegiance."
" Then let them keep it."
"What does your Highness mean by that?"
" A very simple meaning. Let them keep their crown.
I keep my wife !"
"Your Highness does not mean that in earnest?"
"In thorough earnest and in cold blood," said the
Grand Duke, laying his hand on Araktseieffs arm.
"All my life through I had never known what it was
to be loved. I verily believe that the nurse who nursed
me thrashed me for being such a piece of deformity.
Not even a dog have I ever been able to attach to me.
Look where I will, I see that every one shrinks back
from me. My very voice, which I try in vain to moder-
ate, is rough and grating, as if I were perpetually scold-
ing. I have never heard an endearing epithet since I
was out of the nursery. And suddenly Fate, like a blind
hen, casts in my way a pearl of women, a tender soul
who loves me with all her being. She does not say it,
she feels it nay, she lets me feel it. She lives in me
like the very soul and thought of me. The little good
there is in me she awakens and makes me reconciled
to myself. She alone of all the world has brought sun-
shine into my dark life. When I am ill she nurses me ;
when I am violent she pacifies me. She is my better self !
And do you believe that I would renounce her for any
prize the earth could give? That for any throne in the
whole world I would exchange this easy-chair where she
has sat nestling up to me ? Ah, what fools you must be
to think it !"
" Your Highness ! I have long made the human mind
an object of study, and it is not new to find that love is
196 THE GREEN BOOK
the most powerful factor we have to deal with on earth.
It is strong, but not lasting. To-day your Highness may
be feeling as you say ; but the human heart is as vari-
able as the sky ; and earth, the fatherland, is its antip-
odes. To-day we may feel as though we had cast away
a whole paradise of bliss in descending from heaven to
earth j to-morrow we discover that our supposed heaven
was but a cloud which glistened in the sun and disap-
peared, leaving * not a wrack behind.' Earth, on the
contrary, remains firm beneath our feet ; it never loses
its power of gravity. What ? Could your Imperial
Highness stand by with folded arms and see the whole
monarchy, a prey to the flames, sink into ashes at your
feet, that your head might rest undisturbed on the lap
of the woman you love ?"
" Well, and even then ?"
"Even then? Even in that case I have my clear in-
structions. Your Highness is the master of your own
future. But the Russian Empire is the master of its
own fate. If the Czarevitch prizes the prosaic domes-
tic life of a citizen higher than the maintenance of the
empire he has received from his ancestors, I have yet
one other proposition to make to him. His Majesty
the Czar will elevate the morganatic wife of the Czar-
evitch, Johanna Grudzinska, to the rank of a Polish
princess, with the family name of ' Lovicz ' ! In perpetual
lien he will make over to her the royal Lovicz domain
of Masover Voivodeship upon the Grand Duke de-
claring her to be his legitimate wife; her children to
be Princes of Lovicz and heirs to their mother's king-
dom, with the rank of Russian bojars in virtue of which
Grand Duke Constanhne will resign the title of Czarevitch
and the right of succession to the Russian Empire, for him-
self and his heirs, forever, in favor of his br other ^
THE MONSTER 197
Constantine struck the table emphatically with his fist.
" Rather to-day than to-morrow !"
" I entreat your Highness not to reply too hastily !
The sky is ever changing ; not so the earth. I am con-
vinced of the truth of your Imperial Highness's words;
but a short delay cannot be of any vital importance.
Let your Highness try absence from the lady, say, for a
week or a month. Or send her for a time, as in truth
her delicate health requires, to Ems or Carlsbad. Sep-
arate yourself from her, so that you are not seeing each
other daily, hourly ; that she may not always be your
centre, but that you may both come in contact with
other people, other surroundings, other interests "
"And do you suppose that absence, whether longer
or shorter, could estrange us from one another?"
" It is an old story, yet ever new."
"That one short month could suffice to cause some
new face to blot out the other from our hearts ? You
are a fool, man !"
" It is but giving it a trial."
" I may do it ! But I tell you beforehand that you
will find yourself mistaken. Do not dream for an instant
that your plan will be successful. We do not stumble,
like ordinary mortals. For a woman to love me is akin
to madness it is incredible! But once to love me is
never to part from me! And to expect me to forget
that woman is an absurdity. Then, of a truth, should I
be the blind fowl pecking at a grain of oats instead of
the pearl before her. Is the Act of Renunciation ready?
Of course you have brought it with you? Give it here.
To-day, to-morrow, or as long as my life lasts, you will
receive from me but the one answer ' I will sign it.' "
" Let us agree to delay the decision, your Highness.
The subject in question is no child's play ; nor is it the
IC)8 THE GREEN BOOK
fighting down any youthful love affair. Let your Impe-
rial Highness weigh well what you are renouncing the
nineteen crowns of Russia ! From Ivan Alexievitch's
crown, inlaid with its nine hundred brilliants, to the
simple ' cap ' of Peter the Great ; the Novgorod crown
with the Deissus, crown of the Republic, worn by Ruric ;
the Astrakhan cap of Michael Feodorvitch ; the Siberian
hat of Fedor Alexievitch ; lastly, the ancient, most sa-
cred relic, the crown of Monomachos, who dates from
legendary times. And would my illustrious chief re-
nounce all this splendor for the sake of a * woman's
charms ' ?"
Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance
of Chevalier Galban, who appeared in the doorway
humming a ballet air.
" Well, Galban," shouted the Grand Duke, as he ap-
peared, "how do you like the Belvedere? 1 '
"Grand !" returned the Chevalier, " and, moreover, an
impregnable fortress /" The two last words were directed
to Araktseieff, accompanied with a meaning look. Pos-
sibly the Grand Duke intercepted it, for with sharp into-
nation he repeated :
"An impregnable fortress? I did not know that you
concerned yourself with the storming of fortresses among
other things."
" Oh yes," retorted the Chevalier, in a tone equally
sarcastic. " I have had the good-fortune to succeed in
storming many a castle hitherto held to be impregnable."
Araktseieff here cut short the allegory by interposing,
abruptly :
" I know the castles in the taking of which you have
won your spurs Chateau Lafitte and Chateau Margot!"
both well-known Bordeaux wines at which the Grand
Duke, with a laugh, rose from the table.
THE BLIND HEN'S GENUINE PEARL 199
CHAPTER XX
THE BLIND HEN ? S GENUINE PEARL
WHAT had Chevalier Galban found so admirable on
the terrace of Belvedere Castle, and what did he find
so impregnable there ?
In truth, a lovely view ! In the foreground the massed
trees of Lazienka forest, clad in the tender hues of
spring's young green, their colors ranging from the gold-
en green of the maple to the reddish purple of the su-
mach, delighted the eye. From amidst the thick foliage
arose the zinc roofs of John Sobieski's ancestral home,
Lazienka Castle. Red and green roofs of luxurious vil-
las peeped out here and there from among the trees ;
rows of silvery poplars overtowering the rest marked out
cross-roads. In the distance the ancient capital of Po-
land, living heart of a dead body ; the terraces of the
once royal castle showing where its gardens had been ;
on the Gothic towers of St. John's Church the golden
crosses glistening. Below the city, the winding Vistula,
its islands ablaze with spring-tide glory. To the right
the great Belian forest, with its ancient Camaldulen
Monastery, its walls glowing in the light of the evening
sun ; and then, dumb witness to so many an historic
event, the great Wolja plain, where formerly kings were
elected. On the horizon, fast disappearing in the gold-
en haze of evening, the outline of a castle Mariemont,
whilom residence of Marie Sobieski.
200 THE GREEN BOOK
" A lovely view, is it not ?" said Johanna to Chevalier
Galban, as, having reached the highest terrace of Bel-
vedere, they let their eyes wander round.
"A magnificent prison," returned the Chevalier.
Johanna looked in astonishment at him with her large
brown eyes, which, neither dazzling nor enticing, were
full of soul.
" A prison for whom ?" she asked, surprised.
" For a saint and martyr, who is ready to sacrifice her-
self for her nation."
" And who may this be, and wherein her sacrifice ? I
do not understand you."
" Truly, it is not martyrdom to be tortured with red-
hot iron if that torture be borne in patience ; but it is
martyrdom to give one's heart to be tortured in a man-
ner more cruel than human imagination has yet conceived.
And to be torn in pieces by a wild beast is not so ghastly
a death as to kiss and embrace such a monster. Such
a sacrifice could only be conceived by a Polish woman
and for the Polish nation !"
" Either I fail to understand you, or you are laboring
under some mistake," returned Johanna, handing the
Chevalier a cup of fragrant mocha as they seated them-
selves.
Chevalier Galban was a practised strategist at such
storming operations. He knew at once where the for-
tress was weakest.
" Duchess ! wherever the name of the Polish Vice-
roy is heard, that of Johanna Grudzinska is named with
it; with adoration and affection people utter it, for she is
the guardian angel of all who are oppressed and afflicted."
" I know nothing of all this. Here only criminals are
punished ; and such punishment I can do nothing to
hinder."
THE BLIND HENS GENUINE PEARL 2OI
"Perhaps not in words; perhaps only unconsciously.
Yet the whole world knows that Poland's terror has
changed under the magic of your influence. He has
sane periods in which he treats his people with clemency.
And for these Poland has to thank you !"
" Herr Galban ! Do you not see that any praise must
be repugnant to me which reflects upon my husband ?"
" Far be it from me in any way to reflect upon the
Czarevitch, my master. He is as nature and circum-
stances have made him. The ruling of a nation is no
poetry, nor is it a matter of Scriptural teaching; it has
its established laws. Diplomacy is heartless, and a thor-
ough-going statesman must be heartless likewise. Every
one knows that the Czarevitch is a tyrant to his subjects."
" But to me he is my husband, to whom I am bound
by every law of love and duty."
" It is just that which makes my blood boil. I can
talk openly to you. I must confess, when I undertook
the mission intrusted me by Araktseieff, I had conceived
a very different idea of you from what I do, now that I
am face to face with you. In the different courts I have
visited I have come across many ladies who have de-
luded themselves with the belief that the love of crowned
heads is quite another thing from the love of ordinary
mortals. Once their mistake found out, they have been
able to console themselves ; and when higher state in-
terests have demanded the sacrifice of their affections,
they have accepted the title of countess or princess,
with its accompanying estate as compensation, and have
survived it."
"But what analogy is there between their and my
position ? I was solemnly married to my husband. At
the altar I first placed my hand in his. I bear his name,
and I know he loves me truly."
202 THE GREEN BOOK
" Ah, Princess, you have no conception at present of
the heartless nature of diplomacy ! What you say is
perfectly true ; but you certainly did not notice that in
the marriage ceremony the priest placed the Grand
Duke's left not his right hand in yours. This was
no treachery, no deception ; it is customary with princes
of the blood, and their wives and children can hold up
their heads without shame. But and here comes in
the infamy Araktseieff is set upon proclaiming the
Grand Duke as the Czar's successor to the throne, be-
cause he is his ideal. But to this end it is imperative
that the Grand Duke should take back his first wife,
who is still living, and who is a member of a reigning
dynasty ; for the fundamental laws of the empire allow
no other woman to ascend the throne. Do you now
see the fate awaiting you ?"
" However hard it be, I will endure it silently."
"You will be deprived of your husband's name; and
as Count Grudzinski cannot give you back his, you will
be made Princess of Lovicz. Can you not now picture
to yourself what your future lot will be?"
" Patience and resignation !"
" Did you not notice the cruel smile on AraktseiefFs
face as, when kissing your hand, he said, ' The sight of
this happiness reminds me of mine"! By that he in-
tended to put you on a par with the woman called Dai-
mona, who is only his paramour and was a vivand&re"
"I do not feel the intended insult."
" No, no ; it is impossible ! When I heard the scheme,
I too thought, * After all, what will it matter? She, like
other women, will receive compensation, and, like them,
w ill survive it.' But since I have been brought face
to face with those clear, pure eyes, which so faithfully
mirror the noble heart within, I ceased to consult my
THE BLIND HENS GENUINE PEARL 203
reasoning powers, for they counselled me to take myself
a hundred miles away and to make myself believe that
I had been dreaming. Since that moment 1 have been
pondering how at the risk of my own life I could
save you. It must not be that such an angel should
fall a victim to such devilish intrigues! It must not be
that a Polish woman be forced to see her father's name
and coat of arms tarnished without any one to protect
her without means of revenge !"
" What do you mean ?"
" What do I mean ? To tell you how you can re-
venge yourself ! You must anticipate those intriguers,
and, in answer to their dishonoring proposal, say, ' Keep
your princedom of Lovicz for high-born courtesans. I,
a Polish noblewoman, will find a husband ready to give
me the protection of his honorable name and whole
hearta true man, who loves and respects me !'"
Face, eyes, the Chevalier's dramatic action, all tended
to illustrate his words. It was not difficult for Johanna
to divine whom he meant as the " true man." Not the
shadow of a blush tinted her cheek as, with great com-
posure, she replied :
" Chevalier Galban, do you see those walls surround-
ing Belvedere and Lazienka ? Within those walls you
are my guest, and you have the right to do exactly as
you please, even to the length of insulting me; but only
within these walls, as my guest. As soon, however, as
you are without them, your immunity ceases. I will
confide to no one what you have just said to me. A
Polish woman betrays no one, not even to her husband ;
she revenges herself ! So, once you have passed with-
out these walls, for this unpardonable insult I will order
my people to give you a sound thrashing! May I offer
you a little more sugar in your coffee ?"
204 THE GREEN BOOK
Chevalier Galban burst into a peal of laughter.
"Mafoi! the fate of war. Out of three assaults, one
may come off conqueror twice and yet be beaten the
third time. Thank you, I will take another piece of
sugar."
Then he strolled out with Johanna into the park, ad-
mired her tulip-bed, and, deferentially taking leave of
her, went back to his chief, as already related.
"Where did you leave my wife ?" the Grand Duke
asked, as he rose from table.
" I accompanied her into the park. We parted at the
Hermitage."
" Come, Araktseieff, let us go and find her ! You take
one way ; I will take the other. Whoever first finds her
brings her back to Belvedere."
The Grand Duke was lucky. He was first to find
Johanna. She was kneeling on the grass feeding his
pet rabbits ; he let himself down clumsily beside her.
" Take care !" he said ; " the grass is wet with dew ;
you will take a chill."
" It will not hurt me I am strong."
" That's a story," he growled, " you are very delicate.
I do not know how to wait the season to send you to
Ems, that you may take the baths for which you are
longing."
" I do not want to go there now."
" Why not ?"
" I have been thinking it over. You would be unable
to leave your post to go with me ; and to be weeks,
months, away from you, not ever to see you, is more
than I could bear. I would so much rather stay here.
Indeed, I am quite well."
" What !" cried the Grand Duke, with a wild outburst
of joy. " You love me so much that you cannot live
THE BLIND HEN ? S GENUINE PEARL 205
without me ? that you would care for nothing if you were
away from me ? Oh, my own true pearl of women !"
And taking up his wife in his strong arms he laughed,
caressed, and covered her with a shower of fiery kisses.
"And they would separate me from my wife! A fine
idea, eh ? Shall I throw you into this pond ?" And he
swung her in his arms like a little child. " Are you
afraid that I shall throw you in ? Ha, ha, ha ! and do
you think I would let them make you Princess of Lovicz
and be parted from you ? That I would repay you for
your love and faithfulness with a title, and take another
to wife ? Are you afraid of it ? Shall I toss you into
the pond ? Hush !"
Johanna twined her arms round her husband's neck,
kissed him, and murmured, softly:
"Were you to dishonor me and chase me from you, I
would come back to you again. Were you to humiliate
me from your wife into your mistress or maid-servant,
I would still serve and love you. I cannot do other-
wise."
"Ha, ha, ha! And from such a woman they would
have torn me. Hallo [ Araktseieff ! This way, man.
I've found her."
When Araktseieff, turning into the winding path,
caught sight of the Grand Duke with Johanna in his
arms, he knew what had happened.
"Tell them," shouted the Czarevitch when he was
still at some distance, and in a voice hoarse with emo-
tion "tell them that I do not give up a wife who loves
me for a whole empire that hates me! When are you and
your Chevalier Galban going back ?"
" With your Imperial Highness's permission, I will
stay the night. But Chevalier Galban has left the castle
already, I see from a note he left for me. He says he
206 THE GREEN BOOK
was compelled to hasten his departure ; the ground was
burning under his feet, for Duchess Johanna had threat-
ened him with a horsewhipping for a speech which had
displeased her."
" A horsewhipping !" cried the Grand Duke. " What !
my Johanna order any one to be horsewhipped? Come
on my right hand, wife!" And releasing Johanna from
the embrace in which he still held her, he offered her his
right arm, with face beaming with joy.
" Go back to those who sent you, my good friend, and
tell them that I am about to wed Princess Lovicz in
right-handed marriage. And as she may not accompany
me to St. Petersburg, I will go with her to Ems, with the
Czar's permission. And now get ready your trumpery
papers that I have to sign."
With these words he turned away, and what he had
further to say to Johanna was inaudible from kisses and
laughter.
That which Krizsanowski had promised in the sitting
of the Szojusz Blagadenztoiga had come about the in-
credible fact that a man could voluntarily resign his suc-
cession to the throne of the mightiest empire in the
world, and in such a manner that, did he ever repent, he
might never undo his act. That incredible fact had be-
come not a possibility, but a thing accomplished. The
solution to the riddle was, as Zeneida had divined at the
time, Johanna. For the present, however, none knew of
it save the participators and the trees of the ancient
forest about them.
Ah ! what a terrific, world-wide catastrophe was this
idyl to bring about !
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 2OJ
CHAPTER XXI
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL
WHILE the members of " the green book " were at
work on their wide-spreading plans, those of the Bear's
Paw had made others to their way of thinking. Pass-
ing over the military, and turning their backs upon the
league of the aristocrats, they took up a ground of their
own, calling themselves " Napoleonists !" What induced
them to choose that extraordinary name for themselves ?
Well, it is easy enough to make the poor believe
their lot to be a hard one ; it was at that time that the
Russian Volkslied was written
" My soul I give to God ;
My head I give the Czar ;
My body beneath my master's feet;
The grave is all I call my own !"
Within the last four years especially the iron hand of
adversity had pressed heavily on the country. The earth
no longer gave back the seed sown upon it ; terrific fires
had reduced the large cities to ashes ; and a pestilence,
hitherto unknown in the land, had crept over the fron-
tier and devastated the population. The streams and
rivulets had become floods, carrying away whole towns
at a moment's notice ; locusts, caterpillars of a kind
and species never seen before, came down in shoals,
tormenting man and beast ; great war-ships out at sea
sank with all their men and ammunition on board.
208 THE GREEN BOOK
And all this was Heaven's retribution because the
Czar had not gone to the assistance of the Greeks
fighting for their freedom. Against miracles, counter-
miracles alone can be effectual.
And the present century had produced a miracle in
the form of a man : his name, Napoleon.
It was all a lie that the English had taken him
prisoner at Waterloo ! All a lie that he was being kept
in confinement on the island of St. Helena ! He was in
hiding, though the whereabouts must not at present be
divulged. Where was that place? Only so much might
be known, that it was somewhere in the neighborhood
of Irkutsk. Thence he would come, as soon as the
people's cup of bitterness was filled to the brim, to
tread down the mighty, and free every people under
the sun.
This rumor was extensively circulated everywhere.
Among the conspirators of the Bear's Paw was a
plaster- modeller (our "Canova") who, single-handed,
sent out of his workshop over two hundred thousand
busts of Napoleon. These busts were worshipped by
the mujiks as if they were pictures of saints ; they
took the place of the crucifix to them. He was the
deliverer, before whom the mujik and his family bent
the knee ; he would bring them relief from all their
troubles.
Even at the present time these plaster casts are to
be seen in many a Russian peasant's hut : the well-
known form, cocked hat, arms crossed upon the breast,
in overcoat or short-waisted military tunic. Forty years
after his death they still awaited his coming.
Hence the words " Only wait till Napoleon comes !"
were a cry which spread through the land.
The people only remembered that twelve years before,
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 209
when Napoleon really did come, their masters were
terribly frightened, and so merciful to the peasants.
How fast they cleared out, leaving their castles as
booty behind ! and money then was as plentiful as
blackberries. No price was high enough for corn and
oats. And such brilliant promises were scattered about
in all directions. The mujik was led to expect every-
thing under heaven and earth ; but his expectations
were never realized. So let Napoleon come again !
And to hasten this was the plan of the leader of the
Bear's Paw party.
The 8th of November, according to the Russian
calendar, is the Feast of the Archangel Michael. On
that day it is the custom to have great rejoicings in
Isaacsplatz and on the Neva. The whole population
of St. Petersburg, from the highest to the lowest, take
part in it. Now when the throng should be at its
thickest, and aristocrat and plebeian well mixed up to-
gether, suddenly at the corner of every street and
square there should arise the cry, "Here comes Napo-
leon !" And in the midst of the crowd, borne on the
shoulders of the enthusiastic people, should appear the
well-known figure of the Corsican hero, to be repre-
sented by Dobujoff, one of the Bear's Paw community
a man the very image of the great Napoleon, and an
admirable mimic. The rest would follow of itself.
At the words " Napoleon has come " all St. Petersburg
would be at their mercy, and the wave, thus started,
would not stop until it reached Novgorod, where the
brotherhood of "Ancient Republic" would at once
swell the tide, overflowing Moscow and all that vent-
ured to oppose it. They looked upon their plan as
sure of success. The people may suffer themselves to
be deprived of freedom, even of bread, but no one may
210 THE GREEN BOOK
deprive them of their amusements. With the days set
apart as holidays no power on earth may meddle. The
plan of campaign was devised cunningly enough. Every
one having anything to do with "the classes" was care-
fully excluded. And one other circumstance was favor-
able to the audacious originators. The Neva that year
had frozen over in October, a succession of hard frosts
had followed, but no snow, while ordinarily in November
house -roofs were covered a foot deep in snow, which
lasted into May. It would be, therefore, no difficult
task to set fire to the city in various quarters, a thing not
usually so possible in the winter in St. Petersburg as
in Moscow, built as it was entirely of wooden houses.
With fire breaking out in ten or twelve places simulta-
neously the panic would be complete.
The Feast of St. Michael was at that time still cele-
brated in the Isaacsplatz. In one night, in the vast,
usually empty space, a perfect town had been erected,
with entire streets of booths, the principal booth being
the People's Theatre. And what a theatre it was!
in which marionettes acted like real people and fought
in real battles ! And then the troops of artists of all
kinds, whose patron is not Apollo, but Pan, who amuse
the people, and are not at the beck and call of the rich
and learned, but are to be seen at fairs and in holiday
places, and who do not think it beneath their dignity to
come down among the crowd to collect kopecs after the
performance. Then there are the people's favorites, the
Bajazzos, who are not so ambitious as to work for pos-
terity, but are perfectly content if they can earn to-day
their yesterday's score at the inn, playing the while, so
the populace think, every whit as well as Talma or Mac-
ready. They eat tow, draw whole bundles of rags out of
their noses, swallow red-hot coals and sharp swords, and
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 211
can scratch their ears with their toes, which is more than
either Sullivan or Kean, or even Dimitriefsky. more cele-
brated than either, can do. In one booth is shown the
" real original sea-maiden with a fish's tail, who lives on
live fish, and can only say ' Papa,' ' Mama.' " In another
the big drum is being beaten to call attention to the el-e-
phants walking on a tight rope ; next door to them are
to be seen men of the woods, with four hands and tusk-
like teeth. The giantess is also on view, under whose
arm the tallest man can stand, although she wears no
high heels to her shoes, and, when desired, shows
that the calves of her legs are not wadded. The show-
man of a panorama describes, in singing voice to an
astonished public, great battles, eruptions of Vesuvius,
storms at sea, and ghastly tales of murders, the faithful
representation of all which is to be seen in his booth for
the sum of two kopecs. Then, how endless are the
amusements hidden by no jealous tent ! Here a group
of cornet-players, each playing a different note, and so
forming a melody ; there a set of gypsies dancing and
singing; windmill -like swings swishing through the
air with their delighted occupants; while crowds in
their holiday best glide over the smooth ice in sledges
or on skates. High above all these earthly delights
is to be seen a rope slung across between the tower
of St. Isaac's Cathedral to the balcony of the Admiralty,
upon which a tight-rope dancer is to wheel his little son
in a wheelbarrow.
Wild spirits reign among the crowd ! The samovars
are inexhaustible with their supplies of hot tea, and epi-
cures who know how to enjoy life swallow mountains of
sweet ices, and salt cucumbers immediately after. The
people listen to Volkslied singers, and join in with them;
while those who have brought their three-sided balalaikas
212 THE GREEN BOOK
with them accompany the voices no very difficult art,
as it is an instrument with only two strings.
And it is not only a day for "the masses"; the
"classes" are there also in all their magnificence.
True, every precaution has been taken to prevent " the
masses" from encroaching upon their betters. To this
end the Summer Garden is enclosed, and there the
world of fashion is to be seen driving in every variety
of equipage, from the barouche to the national/r<?/^/^j,
the owners exhibiting their costly furs and running Bo-
lognese dogs..
The frozen Neva, open to all, is alive with thousands
and thousands of sledges, from smart gilded ones with
their English thoroughbreds to those of simple Lapland
construction drawn by reindeer, crossing and recrossing
each other on the polished surface of the river. The
Northern Babel is in full force.
As evening comes on, the terrace of the pavilion is
illuminated with Bengal lights, and huge pitch bonfires
spring into flame, showing up the animated picture of
the people's feast in varied coloring.
After the fireworks three salvoes of cannon from the
citadel give the signal for the bells in all the churches
to begin ringing in honor of St. Michael.
These three salvoes and ringing of church bells are
to serve as a signal to the conspirators. At the first
sound they are to rush forward, armed with knives and
torches, with the cry, " Napoleon is here! Here is
Napoleon !" When, under cover of the noise of the
pealing bells, they have forced a way into the midst of
the aristocrats and soldiers, it will be easy for them, in
the universal chaos, to push on to the palace and mur-
der him of whom the Song of the Knife was written.
The thing was plain, a foregone conclusion. That
THK MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 213
afternoon a strong southwest wind from the sea had
sprung up, to the discomfort of many. True, the St. Pe-
tersburger is accustomed, if one fur coat be not suffi-
cient, to put on two ; but the poor performers suffered
much damage from the wind, which blew down their
booths and stopped their performances. The tight-rope
dancer dared not venture upon his neck-breaking exhi-
bition, for the storm would have carried off him and his
son bodily like a couple of flies. Aristocratic ladies in
the enclosure lamented that the wind tore their veils
off their bonnets. Greater still were the lamentations
anent the fireworks, for none but Bengal lights and
wheels could succeed on such a night.
Towards evening the gale rose to a perfect hurricane.
Suddenly came the roar of the cannon from the citadel,
and simultaneously the peal of bells. Three hundred
bells at one and the same time ! A carillon truly.
The roar of the cannon deadened the bells. It is the
people's habit to count the salvoes. Three were the
signal for the lighting up of the Bengal lights.
But the cannon thundered on.
When the reports had reached twenty -one, people
whispered under their breath, " What ! can it be the
birth of a princess in the Winter Palace ?"
No. Still the cannons thundered on.
At the fiftieth report the rumor arose that a successful
naval engagement was being celebrated.
But still the cannons continued their volley, amid the
crash of church bells.
When the iron tongue had roared for the hundred and
first time, people began to ask themselves, " Can this be
the Czar's birthday ?"
No ; not even that. The iron monsters thundered
on 102, 103, 104. At the hundred and fifth time none
214 THE GREEN BOOK
asked any more what it meant; for the whole city with
one voice sent up a despairing cry, deadening even the
crash of the three hundred bells.
" It is coming ! It is coming !"
But it was not the approach of Napoleon's army which
aroused the voice of panic, but that of a far mightier
lord the Neva! which, rushing back upon the cily,
brings the sea with it, and with foaming, roaring, re-
sistless waves breaks up the ice of the river, flinging it
abroad on all sides.
That was the meaning of the incessant firing of can-
non from the citadel.
When Czar Peter I. first began to put into form his
idea of building a capital in the midst of the Finnish
morass, and, to that end, had the vast forest there stand-
ing exterminated, he came upon an old fir-tree, on whose
bark were cut deep lines. "What is the meaning of
these lines?" he asked an old countryman. '''These lines
denote the height of the Neva when it leaves its banks and
floods the whole surroujiding land''' The Czar gave or-
ders for tree and peasant to be cut down ; but both had
spoken truly. The Neva remained the sworn enemy of
the mighty city of the Czar.
Yes. It is coming, rushing on with backward move-
ment; it has left the river-bed and increases mightily;
it is no longer the Neva, but the sea the salt sea in all
its awful immensity! And once it has gone clown, the
walls of palaces and houses, as far as the water has reach-
ed, will be covered with salt.
The sledgers on the ice were the first to become aware
of the extent of the clanger. Those of them who took
refuge on the right bank of the river might esteem them-
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 215
selves lucky, for there the streets were clear; but those
seeking the left side spread mad panic among the un-
conscious throng of pleasure - seekers with their cry,
" The Neva is coming !"
The very words sufficed to strike dismay into the
hearts of the bravest and to paralyze the cowardly with
terror ; for in such danger there is no way of escape.
When the Neva rises it overflows the whole city, and he
who would flee the danger meets it at the next turning.
Confusion reigned supreme. The crowds of carriages
in the railed- in Summer Garden had but one way of
egress, and collision was inevitable ; those which at last
forced a passage came into the midst of a maddened
press of people, who carried them along, regardless of
the crest upon the panels and the supercilious lackey
on the box. There were for the time being no princes
and no mujiks, only a panic-stricken mob. And before
disentanglement was possible the flood was upon them.
The first huge wave washed down the booths in Isaacs-
platz. The terrified owners came rushing out of the
beer-houses, and, clambering on the tops of their disman-
tled booths, shrieked for help. The giantess pushed
head and shoulders out of her tent, frightened to death.
Boys dressed like performing apes flew up their poles ;
the sea-maiden found her feet, and, discarding tail, made
for dry land. The performing elephant waddled through
the crowd, his master on his back; and the wild beasts
in the menagerie roared as if they were in their native
forests. At that instant, as though in mockery of this
scene of terror, the red and green lights on the terrace
of the Summer Garden pavilion shone forth, lighting
up the flood in all its horror. The men in charge of
the fireworks were ignorant of what was happening.
Only when the festive peals of bells had died away in
2l6 THE GREEN BOOK
distant reverberations did they become aware of their
danger; and hastily putting out their lights, left the
whole city in darkness. For the slippery pavements
impeded the lamp-lighters nor, indeed, could they have
lighted their lamps in the storm that was raging. Dark-
ness added the final touch of horror to the scene of
danger ! Among the terrified refugees were Duchess
Ghedimin and Bethsaba ; their carriage, in Russian
style, drawn by two horses tandem. The first horse was
wellnigh unmanageable ; it was a spirited English mare,
which the Duchess had specially chosen that day to
show that her equipage was superior to Zeneida's. Only
she had not attained her aim, for Fraulein Ilmarinen
had not entered an appearance.
" Drive down one of the side streets," the Duchess
said, peremptorily, to her coachman.
Easy to command, but not so easy to carry out ! The
mob surrounded them on all sides.
" Get down," she ordered her jager, " and force a way
through the people !"
The jager, a gigantic young fellow, a Finlander, seized
the foremost horse by the bridle, and, dealing out blows
roundly with his other arm on the mujiks, thought to
steer the carriage in this way through the crush. All
very well ; that kind of thing may do with the mujik,
who is accustomed to the lash ; but your thoroughbred
has noble blood in his veins, and does not suffer himself
to be led by the bridle. Violently shaking himself loose,
the horse dealt the jager such a blow on the head that
he fell senseless to the ground.
" Oh, what are we to do now?" asked the Duchess, ter-
ror-stricken, bursting into tears.
" I know a way," said Bethsaba. " Have the leader
led in the saddle."
THE MOST POWERFUL RULER OF THEM ALL 217
" But who would venture to mount it ?" asked the
Duchess, wringing her hands.
" I will !" returned Bethsaba; " I am used to riding."
" Very well, then," said the Duchess.
Selfish to the last degree, she never considered that in
order to reach the farthermost horse Bethsaba would
have to wade through the icy water up to her knees, and
in her light carriage-wrap expose herself to the bitter
cold of the stormy night, and to the maddened popu-
lace, who, in the darkness and panic, recognized neither
lord nor master. Also, in her emergency, Princess Ghedi-
min utterly forgot that Bethsaba was, moreover, a king's
daughter, who had not been committed to her care to
act as postilion for her.
So she merely said, "Very well, then."
And the girl, throwing off her fur-lined cloak, jumped
from the carriage into the water, ran to the foremost
horse, calling it by its name as she ran; then, stroking
its mane with one hand, sprang lightly upon its back,
using the leading-reins for bridle.
And now they moved on once more.
With her soft voice saying to the on-pressing crowd,
" Dear cousin, please make way ! Heaven be with
you !" she effected more than any amount of violence
would have done. The people made way for her, and
she succeeded in guiding the carriage into a side street,
clear as yet from the flying masses.
But there was a reason which made advance imprac-
ticable. The flood was already ahead of them; and
the farther they proceeded the more imminent grew
their danger. The waves were already washing into the
carriage ; the Duchess had to take refuge on the coach-
man's box to keep her feet dry. There she was so far
secure, but Bethsaba was soaked to the skin from the
2l8 THE GREEN BOOK
spray dashed up by the horses' feet, while the water
covered her knees.
" If only we could get to Nevski Prospect," gasped
the Duchess. " Hurry hurry on ! There is our castle."
At length they reached it. But what a sight met their
eyes ! It was as though they were in the very midst of
the Neva, with its fields of ice. Not water alone was
round them, but ice great icebergs floating on the
black expanse of water. Through the Moika Canal the
flood was coming down upon them.
" Holy Archangel Michael !" screamed the coachman
at the sight, " save us on this your day !"
" Don't pray now, but push on the horses," com-
manded the Duchess, peremptorily.
" From this only St. Michael or the devil can save us f
" Hold your tongue !" cried the Duchess, giving him a
smart blow on the head. " I trust neither in St. Michael
nor the devil, but in my good horses, which will take me
home in safety. Drive on !"
And the Duchess struck the coachman, the coachman
the horses, and the horses' feet the raging element. All
three were furious. The king's daughter alone prayed :
" My God! oh, dear God, send some one to help us!"
She felt that she could not hold out much longer, that
her limbs were growing numb with cold.
CHAPTER XXII
THE DEVIL
SUDDENLY a glow of light illumined the dark waves;
a red gleam, reflected on the street of houses, was seen
advancing towards them. From a side street a boat
was approaching, with a torch stuck in its bow. Two
THE DEVIL 219
men were pulling ; a third, boat-hook in hand, was stav-
ing off the floating masses of ice ; a fourth was at the
rudder. In the middle of the boat stood a woman, her
head and face entirely enveloped in a bashlik, engaged
in covering up a group of children of all ages, distribut-
ing biscuit among them, and soothing their cries for
papa and baba (little Russian children say "baba" in-
stead of mamma). Papa and baba do not take the
children to the fair, but lock up the poor little mites in
the houses before they go out. If any sudden calamity
occurs papa and baba escape. But what becomes of
the little ones? Does a fire break out they are burned
to death ; a flood, then let Providence send some good-
natured gentry-folk, such as take pleasure in rescuing
children through roof or windows. It is as good sport
as wild-duck shooting. So this boat was filled to over-
flowing.
The boatmen were the first to see the desperate posi-
tion of the carriage and its occupants, and they rowed
towards it. The torch showered sparks in the high
wind, illuminating the face of the youth who, as he stood
in the prow of the boat gliding over the dark waters,
looked like some hero of antiquity. Masses of ice
grated under the keel. The young man, steering dex-
terously through the ice, reached the carriage. It was
but just in time, for Bethsaba could scarce maintain her
seat upon the horse. Without a second's hesitation he
had seized the half-frozen girl, who clutched with both
hands at his arm, and the next instant she was in the
boat.
Bethsaba looked into the youth's eyes, and in that mo-
ment she knew the exquisite joy of losing one's self in a
look. Once before she had met the fire of those eyes then
they had singed her wings ; now her heart was the victim.
220 THE GREEN BOOK
"Wrap her in this fur cloak," said the lady standing
in the middle of the boat to the young man, and threw
her own cloak to the girl, who was shivering with cold ;
then going alongside the carnage, held out her hand to
help the lady sitting in it into the boat. As she did
so the bashlik fell back, and Bethsaba recognized the
face. It was that of Zeneida Ilmarinen the devil ! The
Duchess also recognjzed her.
Like a fury she struck back her enemy's helping hand,
crying, in a voice hoarse with passionate excitement :
"Away, away! I will not have your help! Rather
perish in the flood than in hell with you !" And, snatch-
ing the whip from her coachman's hand, she adminis-
tered some smart lashes to the horses, who, madly rear-
ing, plunged deeper into the foaming waves, already up
to their chests. She would have none of Zeneida's
help.
Bethsaba remained in the boat, trembling, not with
cold, but at the thought that she had fallen into the
devil's clutches, who already was making off with her as
his prey. Of course he had given her his own fur wrap
in order to get more sure hold of her. How warm it
was! It must come direct from the lower regions.
"You will take cold," said the man with the boat-
hook to Zeneida.
" I will row to keep myself warm," she answered; and,
taking an oar in her firm grasp, began rowing vigorous-
ly, her chest heaving with the exertion, as does the devil
when hastening off with his prey. Of course he takes
all the little children he can get hold of to hell. The
boat flew like the wind clown the dark lanes.
At length they came to a large garden, the high walls
of which kept back the seething waters. Bethsaba rec-
ognized the gilded railings that surmounted them. It
THE DEVIL 221
was here the stag had been shot that they were hunting
last spring. The evil spirit was bringing her to his lair.
The boat pulled up to the very threshold of the castle,
for the water covered the marble steps. But the castle
itself was built on such high ground that it was secure
from all inundation.
The hall was brilliantly lighted, and an army of liv-
eried footmen with lighted lamps hastened out to receive
the party. From one end of the long ballroom to the
other were rows of beds ; in the centre of the room a
table spread with food and steaming samovars. A num-
ber of beds were already occupied by children ; another
group was in the act of being fed with tea and soup.
Bethsaba recognized many well-known faces among the
helpers. They were those of members of the Society of
the Green Book, who had been utilizing the Feast of St.
Michael to hold a sitting, for that is one of the days
when the attention of the police is otherwise engaged.
Scarce had the sitting begun when Pushkin had burst
in among them with the alarming news that the Neva
had overflowed its banks.
The common danger at once put politics, new consti-
tutions, and conspiracy out of their heads. Their one
thought was to save those imperilled.
In Zeneida's grounds was an immense fish-pond, on
which her guests were wont to hold regattas in the
spring. In winter boats and punts were laid up in the
boat-houses. These were got out in all haste, the con-
spirators told off to them with oars and boat-hooks, and
they were quickly rowed off in all directions to carry
help to the inundated city. Their first work was to rescue
the children out of endangered houses, and those wom-
en who* had stayed at home with them. Zeneida placed
her castle, staff of servants, and wardrobe at the dis-
222 THE GREEN BOOK
posal of the rescuing party; but the lion's share of the
work fell to her, and she gave herself heart and soul to
it. She herself carried the young Circassian Princess in
her arms into a well-warmed apartment hung with rich
tapestries. Bethsaba had not strength to resist ; she
suffered herself to be carried like a baby. Besides, what
is the use of resistance to the Prince of Darkness ?
First Zeneida cut away and removed the frozen cloth-
ing from Bethsaba's numbed body so does the Evil
One with his prey ! Here the king's daughter experi-
enced a sensation of surprise, for she was accustomed
to bathe very often with Korynthia, who never failed to
admire her form, and to say to her gocl-daughter, " How
lovely are you !" But Zeneida instead, with frowning
brow, as if angry with her, clothed her rapidly in a
woollen garment, then commenced rubbing her limbs
vigorously until the numbness yielded and a pleasant
sense of warmth was infused into her frame. Then, wrap-
ping her in well-warmed blankets, she laid Bethsaba
in a delicious soft bed and covered her up. Yes, so
the Evil One treats his poor victims before he takes
them to the nether regions !
Then Zeneida brought a steaming drink in a delicate
porcelain cup, from which Bethsaba, taking one sip,
felt warmed through as though with fire. This must
certainly be the devil's potion ! And having once tast-
ed it she wanted more, and did not stop until she had
emptied the cup. Then her eyes closed, and, fiercely
as she resisted it, sleep overpowered her. In her dreams
the Prince of Darkness led her through fairy-like places
which, narrow at first, widened out farther and farther
until they changed into one great Paradise, where
people flew about instead of walking. Once in her
dreams she saw the Evil One gently attending to her
THE DEVIL 223
wants and removing her saturated garments. And next
morning, when she awoke, true enough, her coverings
had been changed. If that was no dream, were the
other dreams equally true ?
Bethsaba, sitting up in bed, looked about her. Yes;
it must be the P>il One's room. No image of a saint
to be seen ; only Chinese and Japanese idols of every
form and shape. Most likely images of Beelzebub and
Asmodeus !
But what most astonished her was to find her own
clothes folded on a low chair by her bedside. How
could that be ? Last night the Spirit of Darkness had
certainly cut and torn them to shreds; and now here
they were, whole and dry. Certainly he has number-
less agents who can work like magic ? Timorously she
put on the mysterious clothing, not failing to ejaculate
a " Kyrie eleison !" at each garment, in order to dispel
the power of the Evil One.
And when thus dressed she tried to find her way out
of the room she was in. Two or three of the rooms
she passed through were very unlike those of her god-
mother, rich princess as she was. One of these was
full of living birds ; another of stuffed animals. Sud-
denly she heard a whimpering of children. This must
be the place where the Evil Spirit tortures the little
ones he has stolen. Curiosity made her follow the
voices, and advancing she came to a half-open door,
where, looking in, she saw Zeneida occupied in washing,
combing, and dressing a group of tiny children. Some,
who were being washed, were whimpering ; but others,
already dressed, were chattering, and admiring their
pretty, new frocks. Surely an odd occupation for the
Evil One. They were in Zeneida's bath-room. Beth-
saba boldly entered. Curiosity begets courage.
224 THE GREEN BOOK
"Ah, dressed already, little Princess?" said Zeneida.
"What are you doing to the children?" asked Beth-
saba, with desire for knowledge.
" As you see, washing and dressing them ; one can-
not tell where their mother may be, poor little mites.
The flood is rising higher and higher ; the whole city is
under water. As long as the danger lasts we must look
after these little ones. Those who dress quickly," con-
tinued she, turning to the children, " may run into the
dining-hall, and the housekeeper will give them some
nice soup for breakfast."
Bethsaba thought she would put the Evil One to the
proof.
" But who hears them say their prayers before their
breakfast ?"
" Nobody, dear child ; for they are more hungry than
devout."
"But prayer is good," returned the king's daughter.
"For what?"
" In order to avert further misfortune from the city."
"My dear little Princess!" exclaimed Zeneida, "the
wind which sends the Neva over St. Petersburg is called
Auster, and were the whole twelve hundred millions of
people who inhabit the earth to blow together it would
not avail to blow back the Auster /"
This was a speech worthy of its maker. To liken the
efficacy of prayer to a blowing of breath ! Bethsaba
now plunged into the extreme of audacity. She would
name the Deity, and surely then the devil, amid sulphur
and brimstone, would strip himself of his seductive ex-
terior and appear in his conventional form of horns and
goat's feet.
" So you do not believe that God has sent this awful
calamity upon mankind ?"
THE STORY OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 225
" No, dear child. For were it God who had sent this
visitation upon the earth the flood would have destroyed
the houses of the wicked and not those of the honest,
hard-working people."
Bethsaba thought, " You must be he, or you would
never have dared to utter such blasphemy." She went
further ; she wanted to catch the Evil One in his own
net.
" You have too much to do ; may I not help you ? If
you would let me, I would wash and dress the children,
too. I should like to do it ; it is so amusing."
"Yes, indeed," said Zeneida, merrily. "Why not?
It will give you something to do; and I, by-the-way,
must go and see that we have enough to eat for all our
multitude. I leave you in charge of the nursery."
So saying she gave up her seat to Bethsaba, and,
bidding the many unwashed little folk to be good, left
the bath-room with a smile. Bethsaba's first care was
to make the children all kneel down. Then, kneeling in
their midst, she said the Lord's Prayer with them "De-
liver us from the Evil One. Amen."
Now he must be effectually quashed !
Then she began her task of washing and dressing the
little ones.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE STORY OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES
BUT the small mites were not as good with their new
nurse as they had been with the old one. A look
from Zeneida had been enough to still their meanings
and whimperings; but Bethsaba was little more than
15
226 THE GREEN BOOK
a child herself, they were not in the least awed by her.
One child set up the cry, the others following in chorus,
" Where is baba ? where is pata ?" and she might have
gone on forever washing the tears from the little faces.
Well, pata and baba she could not give back to them ;
but she remembered what her nurses had done when
she was a little child and used to cry for her mamma.
They had told her fairy tales.
" Don't cry ! Be good and sensible, and I will tell
you the story of The Man with the Green Eyes. It's such
a lovely story. Now listen !"
The children were quiet as mice ; they clustered up to
Bethsaba, clinging to her dress, resting their chins on
her knees, and listened.
" A long, long time ago there was a little prince, as
little as you are, Struwelpeter, here at my feet, tie had
a good papa and a good baba, who loved him very much.
But one day they had to go a long journey, and were
laid in long metal boxes, and the lids were shut down
upon them. Then they were carried out and placed
upon two grand gold and silver coaches, each drawn by
six horses, and, amid bands of music, firing of cannons,
and great crowds of people, they were driven away.
"When the little prince was left alone he asked his
Grand Vizier, * To what land did my father and mother
go?'
"And the Grand Vizier answered, 'Ah, little prince,
to a land far away. To another world/
" * And why did they go to that other world ?'
" ' Because it is much better there than in ours !' the
vizier explained.
" Upon which the little king's son asked, ' If that
world is so much better, why did they not take me with
them ?'
THE STORV OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 227
" * Because you have yet much to work, battle, and
suffer in this world before you will be worthy to reach
that other one whither your father and mother went.'
" This admonition did not please the little prince at
all, and he thought to himself, ' We'll see. I will get
to papa and baba in the other world, whatever he may
say!'
" And, taking his little gun, he went out into the
woods, as if to shoot birds. There he stayed so long
that he was caught in a thunder-shower; and to avoid
getting wet he looked about for a hollow tree to shelter
in. He had found one, and was looking in, when he
saw that some one was already there. Now, Struwel-
peter, what would you have done in such a case ?"
" I should have cried out loud."
"Well, now, the little king's son did not do that; but,
like a man, he spoke up to the intruder : * I say, you
fellow, this wood is my wood, and this tree is my tree,
and I don't allow you to live in it. But if you can tell
me where that better land is to which papa and baba
have gone I will make you a present of wood and tree,
and you shall live in them.'
" And the stranger in the hollow tree answered, ' Not
so, little king's son ! I lived here before this wood ex-
isted, and no one has power to drive me away. You want
to know where the better land is ? That I can only tell
you when I love you and you love me. Already I love
you.'
"'But I don't love you, naughty man,' said the little
prince.
" ' Why not ?' asked the wood sprite.
*' * Because you've got green eyes.'
" The stranger's eyes, in truth, gleamed like two green
beetles.
228 THE GREEN BOOK
" * Then Heaven be with you !' said the stranger ; by
which the little prince knew he was no evil spirit, else
he dared not name the holy place.
" * I'm going !' returned the little king's son ; ' and
I will find the better land without you. I have often
heard which way to take.'
"The little prince had often heard tell that far off,
among the rocks, lived a fierce, bloodthirsty tiger, who
had despatched many a huntsman and goatherd to the
other world. He would take him along too.
"So he went on till he came to the wild beast's den.
He knew it by the many human bones strewn about on
the ground. The tiger was in his den ; his growling
could be heard without.
" Now, you obstreperous little man, would you have
dared to go into his den ?"
" Not even if my ball had fallen in !"
" Well, then, the king's son was more courageous.
He shouted into the den, ' Heh ! you tiger, come out ! I
am the king's son ! Bear me at once across to the
better land !'
"The monster came slowly out of his lair, licking his
bloody muzzle and striking his long tail against his
haunches, and preparing to make one spring on the boy.
(Don't cry, little snub-nose !) He did not gobble him
up; for at that instant a gigantic snake darted out
of a cleft in the rock, threw itself round the tiger, and,
encircling neck and body, bit the monster in the
throat. The tiger uttered an awful roar, and wrestled
with the snake on the ground. Now began a battle
for life and death between the two animals, until both
together they fell down the rocky precipice. They had
killed each other. The prince had to go home to his
palace.
THE STORY OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 22Q
"On his way home he met a huntsman, his bow and
quiver slung on his back.
" * That's an odd huntsman who hunts nowadays with
bow and arrow,' thought the little prince, and looked
straight into his eyes. It was the man with the green
eyes !
" * So you can't find the way to the better land unless
you love me, eh ?' said he, and disappeared as if the
earth had swallowed him up.
" * We'll see,' thought the little prince. ' I heard once
that there is a great sea, and that many people who
went on that sea in ships found the way to that land.
Perhaps I may succeed in finding that big sea.'
" So he commanded his Grand Vizier to fit out a
great ship on the Black Sea for him ; and in this they
sailed to the country of the fire- worshippers, which had
been the home of the prince's mother. The voyage out
was propitious ; but coming back they were caught in
a terrific storm. It thundered and lightened, the sky
grew quite dark, and as the lightning lit it up and the
rifts of cloud opened, they could clearly see in the sky
beyond the radiant angel host ; and as the storm-winds
made clefts in the sea they could see the sea-nymphs
at the bottom.
" ' At last !' thought the king's son. ' Whether from
above or below, I shall find the way to the better land.'
" The waves ran so high they had already broken the
ship's rudder; the man at the helm had been washed
overboard the ship was fast running on to a huge mass
of rocks; there was no doubt but that it must inevitably
go to pieces.
" At that moment the prince saw some one by the
steering-gear, a stranger, who began steering the ship
with an old-fashioned helm.
230 THE GREEN BOOK
" ' That's an odd sort of man who thinks to steer this
great ship with that old-fashioned gear !'
" Suddenly the storm ceased ; sky and sea quieted
down, the ship ran unharmed past the threatening rocky
shore, and reached its homeward destination in safety.
"The little prince looked round for the stranger
steersman, whom no one on board knew ; but he, with a
laugh, said :
" * You will not find the better land before you get to
love me, eh ?'
" And the little king's son, looking still more closely,
recognized in him the man with the green eyes ; but he dis-
appeared as if the sea had swallowed him up.
" And now the little prince began to be very angry.
" ' Can there be no road for me to the better land ?
Oh yes, there is. I have heard that many a hero has
found it on the battle-field/
" So he commanded his Grand Vizier, then and there,
to declare war against the King of the Tartars.
" And the Grand Vizier, with his army, invaded Tar-
tary ; but its king was very powerful. He let the little
prince's army go farther and farther into the heart of
his country, then surrounded them on all sides.
" The Grand Vizier was frightened.
" ' We are lost, little king's son ! The Tartar knows
no mercy ; he will either kill us or make us slaves. His
army is countless as an army of locusts.'
"The. little king's son exulted.
" ' Give the signal for attack at once, that it may be
the sooner over.'
" But the Grand Vizier was so frightened that he dis-
guised himself as a common soldier, and hid himself, not
daring to lead on his army. So the whole army, be-
coming demoralized, were ready to lay down their arms
THE STORY OF THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 231
to the enemy, when suddenly there appeared at their
head an unknown general in a uniform they had never
yet seen. His sword was like a flaming fire or a ser-
pent. He encouraged the men, and led them against
the Tartars ; and scarce had the trumpet sounded for the
attack before the King of Tartary advanced towards the
prince, sword in hand, barefoot, in a raiment of goat's
hair, and humbly offered him costly presents, beseech-
ing peace. ' For,' he said, * I cannot fight. My soldiers
are dying off by thousands ; they fall as they stand,
their hands and feet writhing and convulsed.'
" And once more the prince recognized the man with
the green eyes in the unknown general. This grieved him
greatly. He began to see that, without his help, never
could he find that land where his father and mother
were. Thus he made up his mind to seek out the man
with the green eyes in his hiding-place, and to tell him
he loved him. He went and called him out of the hol-
low tree. The man with the green eyes had a garment
of tinder, a hat of tinder bound with green mildew ; his
face was yellow as wax, his lips blue as mulberries.
" ' Well, dear child, do you love me at last ?' he asked
the little king's son.
" * Yes, yes ; I love you. Only show me, at last, the
road to the better land.'
" ' Never fear ! I will show it you. But first you
must eat one of the plums from my basket and kiss me.'
" I must tell you he had a basket in his hand filled
with plums, as waxen yellow as was his face. The little
king's son took a plum and ate it.
" * Now, just one kiss !' and he kissed him.
" ' Huh ! how cold your lips were !' said the little
prince, with a shudder.
" And by means of that one plum and that kiss the
232 THE GREEN BOOK
king's son found, what he had long sought so yearningly,
the way to that better land where his father and mother
were awaiting him. He is still there, and sends you his
greetings."
While she told her story the king's daughter had
been busily combing the fair locks of a little girl, who,
with eyes and mouth wide open, took in every word of
the fable. When it came to an end she asked :
" And what is that other world ?"
" Where good people live ; where the sun ever shines
and it is perpetual spring-time ; where man labors and
every day is the Feast of St. Michael ; where all people
are glad and love one another ; where none are hungry
or thirsty ; and where the children play with the baby
angels."
" Oh, I say," quoth the little fair-haired maid, " if peo-
ple must not eat or drink in the better land, I am sure
papa and baba won't go there !"
This set Bethsaba off laughing, as she covered the
little speaker with kisses. Upon which there was a loud
clapping of hands from the next room.
CHAPTER XXIV
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?"
THE pretty story-teller had had listeners.
As the door opened she perceived three well-known
faces, those of Zeneida, Pushkin, her rescuer of the night
before, and Jakuskin, the man at the helm of the boat.
The two men were covered with mud ; it was plain to
see that they had just come in again from their work of
mercy.
" THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 233
" We were listening to you," said Zeneida. " Your
audience were enchanted."
" When I was travelling in the Caucasus," said Jakus-
kin, " I chanced to hear that very fable. The man with
the green eyes is the allegorical symbol of Caucasian
fever, so rife there. The meaning of it is, that whoever
has received the incubation of that fever, whether he be
wounded in battle, mangled by wild beasts, or swallowed
up by the sea, will meet no other death than that pre-
pared for him by the green-eyed spectre !"
Bethsaba saw Pushkin standing before her. She
gazed into those eyes in which to look out one's very
soul must be so sweet, and held out her hand to him.
" I have not yet thanked you for having saved my life.
You came just in time. I could not have kept my seat
an instant longer."
" But how could the Duchess have allowed you to be
there at all ?" asked Pushkin, in tones of reproach.
" I begged her to let me do it. I was so sorry for
her, for she was so terrified, and even began to cry, a
thing I could not stand. Do you know whether she
reached home safely?"
" She is perfectly well. I inquired. I assure you that
my sole reason for going expressly to her palace to make
inquiries was that I knew your first thought would be for
her. There is nothing the matter with her. She went
off at once last night in her boat to Peterhof, where she
is in safety. She must have passed this very castle ; but,
of course, her only reason for not stopping to take you
in was because she felt satisfied that you were in good
keeping."
And Bethsaba saw no irony in the words ; for, in
truth, she felt quite happy in the place where she had
those eyes to look into.
234 THE GREEN BOOK
" And now I can give you nothing in return for hav-
ing saved me, for I am so poor."
" Like me," returned Pushkin.
And Zeneida whispered in his ear :
" Oh, the boundless riches that would come from the
union of your poverty !"
Bethsaba turned back to her washing apparatus.
" Please let me go back to my work. Duty before
everything!"
" Blessed be the hands that perform it!" said Pushkin.
And each word of his was music in Bethsaba's ears.
"Now I know r that I love him," thought she to her-
self. " I am fully convinced of that. But does he love
me?"
"We must now leave you," said Pushkin. "I only
came to bring you news from Ghedimin Castle. We
must be getting back. The flood is still rising ; the
whole of St. Petersburg is under water. There is no
end of work for us to do ; but we shall be coming back-
wards and forwards many times in the course of the day.
I shall have many gifts to lay at your feet, dear Princess."
Gifts ! Did not her godmother tell her that the Rus-
sian youth brings gifts to his lady-love ? So then
"Gifts?" she asked, with naive joy, an innocent flush
upon her pretty cheeks. " What kind of gifts ?"
" Boatfuls of muddy, ragged children for you to wash
and dress."
The girl laughed and clapped her hands with glee.
" Oh, that is capital ! Do bring them the more the
better ! That is the kind of gift I love."
The two men, in their sailor's dress, all wet and mud-
dy, hastened off.
"Pushkin," said Zeneida, accompanying him to the
adjoining room, " that girl is Heaven-sent to you."
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 235
" Since when have you believed in heaven ?"
" Be off with you ! You are a goose ! What news
had you of Ghedimin ?"
Pushkin shrugged his shoulders.
" He is at home quite well. I saw him through the
balcony window, but could not speak to him, as he did
not open it. He is a good sort ; spirited enough, too,
when once he is put up to a thing, but with no self-reli-
ance. He is fond of you, and is really anxious about
you ; but he knows that your palace is on sufficiently
high ground to be out of danger, and that you have a
host of friends to protect you. He is hospitable, and is
generosity itself, and is certain to subscribe hundreds of
thousands for the relief of the sufferers ; yet he does not
offer to take a soul into his own place, for fear of spoil-
ing his carpets and floors ; nor does he send out a cup
of soup to them, because he has no wife to stand by him
and encourage him in it. He is even philanthropic, yet
fears to go out in the damp lest he should get rheuma-
tism. He is an incorporated 'idea,' and he knows it."
*' You are a calumniator ! I am convinced that he is
ill."
" He is certainly not ill unto death, or the Duchess
would never have left him behind and gone alone to
Peterhof."
" Don't be in such a hurry ! What of the Czar ?"
" He is rowing about everywhere in his boat. Jakus-
kin, come here ! You met the Czar ; tell us about him."
" Oh, bosh !" returned the other, impatiently.
"Come, tell. Zeneida likes to hear these things."
"I have no secrets from her; she knows me through
and through, and that I shrink from nothing. Last night
in my boat I twice came upon the Czar ; we were but an
armVlength one from another. The torches of his body-
236 THE GREEN BOOK
guard lit up his figure. He himself was lifting the weep-
ing, raving people out of their windows the very atti-
tude for a pistol-shot ! I had mine loaded in my pocket.
I drew it out, and, to escape temptation, held it under
water to prevent its going off."
"Do you see, Jakuskin?" exclaimed Zeneida.
" Draw no conclusions from that. That I would not
shoot him at the moment that he was helping his people
is no proof that I have given up my plan. A deed of
violence at such a time would have raised up all Chris-
tendom against the perpetrator. Let's have no senti-
ment. I merely let him go free from well-grounded self-
interest. Now I will confess to you what I had not yet
even confided to Pushkin. For the second time, and not
by chance, I met the Czar at the Bear's Paw. Now, the
Bear's Paw is in that quarter of the town which unites
one end of Unishkoff Bridge with Jelagnaja Street, a
locality of whose existence St. Petersburg high life has
no idea. And Nevski Prospect, with its noble palaces,
leads up into that labyrinth of squalor and misery. But
it is out of the range of the carriage-drive of the mag-
nates. There the scum of Europe mixes with the refuse
of Asia. And any catastrophe brings the refuse to the
top. Our worthy friends must have been rather unpleas-
antly surprised by the Neva's unexpected performance ;
they had prepared one of another sort. The rising water
washed them out of their cellars into the attics. And
they knew how to howl ! When the Czar heard so many
clamoring voices he had his boat turned in their direc-
tion. I followed him at a distance, and saw him himself
draw each several man out of the attic windows, and wit-
nessed their humble subjection to him. I had to cram
my fists into my mouth to prevent my laughter. The
select company of the Bear's Paw was taken off by the
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 237
Czar to the Winter Palace, and Herr Marat and Com-
pany will have received a cup of ' kvass ' broth from the
imperial hands and returned a teeth-chattering ' thanks!'
But a very convulsion of laughter seized me when our
friend Dobujoff, got up as Napoleon Bonaparte, crawled
out of the shanty. The Czar exclaimed, i Diantre !
Est-ce-que vous etes retourne de Sainte-HeleneT Upon
which Napoleon had to confess that he understood no
word of French. Now comes the catastrophe. Not by
hand of man, but by means of a bit of wood. In front
of the Bear's Paw a tall pine staff had been erected, on
the summit of which was stuck a pitch wreath. From
this hung a line which had been steeped in saltpetre, and
was evidently intended to have been lighted probably
as the signal. The masses of ice washing up against it
had unsettled the staff ; it began to totter, and must in-
evitably have crushed both the Czar and his boat's com-
pany had not, fortunately, a man been near who, per-
ceiving their danger in time, seized the line with power-
ful grip and swayed the staff round so that it fell beside
the boat instead of upon it."
"That man was you !" exclaimed Zeneida.
" No matter ! But this much I see, that a nobleman
cannot be a common murderer. He is too fastidious
about time and place. So to a more favorable oppor-
tunity !"
"One thing more," said Zeneida. "Did the Czar
touch, too, at Petrovsky Garden ?"
"No."
" All right. I will not detain you any longer."
The two men hastened down to their boat. Zeneida
went back to Bethsaba. The Princess had by this time
dressed all the mujik children.
"Now, children," said Zeneida, "go prettily, hand in
-238 THE GREEN BOOK
hnnd, to the winter garden; there you will get your
breakfast, and then you may play."
Winter garden ! palm grove ! What sounds for poor
children's ears !
Then, turning to Bethsaba, she said :
" Now, dear little Princess, you remain here. Take a
good hot bath ; it will do you good after your yesterday's
exposure. I will be back in an hour. There is a bell ;
ring for all you want."
Bethsaba's head was all confused. Everything was
so new and strange to her.
A pleasant sense of fatigue stole over nerves and im-
agination after the bath. What a pity that there was
no one here to whom she could confide her thoughts
and feelings ! It would have been so nice ! If only
Sophie were here ! Ah, if she were here there would be
no further reason for alarm. Two young girls together
are the very essence of heroism ! And now she began
to wonder what could have happened to Sophie in this
dread time. Had any one thought to go to her assist-
ance ? had she listened to the alarm signals and thun-
dering cannon with despair in her heart ? What tears
she must have shed as she looked out of her windows at
the rising expanse of icy water ! Bethsaba shuddered.
Her excited fancy pictured her friend kneeling, with up-
lifted hands, before her holy images, imploring help.
Would that prayer be answered ? Or was it but a faint
breath, lost in the rushing of the Ausfer?
Folding her hands, she prayed that help might be
given to Sophie. Perhaps the combined prayer of two
maidens might have greater efficacy. What a pity that
there was no holy image in the room ! She was forced
to shut her eyes, that some Buddhist idol might not
think she was addressing her prayer to him.
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?"' 239
Thus Zeneida, on her return, found her.
"What, praying again, Princess? This is the time to
be up and doing."
" But what can I do ?"
" First of all, drink down this wine soup that I have
brought for you. I want to see you quite well and
strong again, for 1 want your aid."
"My aid?"
" Now sit down and take your breakfast while I un-
fold my plan."
Bethsaba trembled. The thought of the dragon in
the fairy story struck her, who first feasts the captured
children on almonds and raisins and then slays them.
She could scarce get down her soup.
"I dare say you know that one-storied house stand-
ing in a garden, near the engineer's buildings, where a
young girl and her old servant live?"
Bethsaba lost not a syllable.
*' According to water-mark measurements that house
stands four cubits lower than this ; hence the water
which has encroached here to the castle steps has al-
ready flooded the ground floor, and is reaching up to
the windows of the first story, and the water is still ris-
ing. But one cubit more and it will be rushing through
the windows in the first story. Now, if the flood lasts
another two or three days, which, unfortunately, is but
too certain, that poor, delicate child will be in despair.
Her only protector, dare not go to her help on account
of his high position; those he has sent have gone away
without accomplishing their errand, for the girl is ob-
stinate and mistrustful. She will not trust herself to
strangers, for she dreads meeting the same fate as did
Princess Tarrakonoff. There is therefore no other
means of saving her from the endangered house than.
240 THE GREEN BOOK
for you to come with us, for she loves and trusts you.
On hearing your voice she will readily let herself down
from her balcony into the boat ; then we will bring her
here, and you can occupy the same room together while
the danger lasts. You will not be alone in this anxious
time, and she will feel comforted in your society ; and,
the time of peril happily over, we will drive her back to
her home."
Bethsaba had forgotten her breakfast while Zeneida
was speaking ; her eyes opened wider and wider, her
cheeks rounded and flushed ; she laughed with tears in
her eyes ; and as Zeneida finished she jumped up from
her chair, and, placing both hands on Zeneicla's shoul-
ders, looked trustfully into her eyes, as she joyfully said :
" Oh, then, you are not the devil !"
Zeneida broke into a peal of laughter.
" Who told you that I was ?"
" My godmother. But I see now that it was all a lie."
" It was only a manner of speaking. If one dislikes
any one very much, one says that he or she is a devil."
" It was on account of the stag that my godmother
was so angry with you, was it not ?"
" Yes ; for that."
" But she need not then have frightened me so by
telling me that the devil looked just like you."
" Oh, little goose ! There is no such thing as a devil.
Only that people like to ascribe their own wicked imag-
inings to an ideal being, who, in reality, has nothing to
do with the evil within them."
" But you are a real fairy, then ! For you read into
my very soul, and how anxious I was about Sophie, and
longing to see her. It was just for that that I was pray-
ing, that my darling little Sophie might be saved and
brought here. And then you come in and bring me,
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 241
like the message in the Gospel, the comforting answer :
'Go yourself and fetch her!' And do you still venture
to affirm that there is no good in prayer ?"
"To those who believe it is good," replied Zeneida,
kissing the girl's forehead ; upon which the latter, throw-
ing her two arms lovingly round Fraulein Ilmarinen's
neck, said :
" Let us say ' thou' to each other."
And they signed the compact with a kiss. Then joy-
ously running to the table, Bethsaba drank her wine
soup almost at a breath. There was a little left in the
glass.
" That you must drink ; I left it for you."
And the bond was sealed.
" I am quite ready ; let us go," said Bethsaba.
" Wait just a few minutes. We will let the gentlemen
get away first. We will go out by the garden gate, and
take only one man to steer and another for the boat-
hook."
" Then we will row, won't we ? I am accustomed to
it, and strong as iron."
" It would be no use. The boat can only be sculled
through the ice, especially against the current, and that
will be done with the boat-hook."
" Well, I am still convinced that you are a good fairy,
Zeneida. You will call me Betsi, won't you ? And
I must tell you that I am not at all afraid of good
spirits. Oh, we have so many at home ! Tamara is
queen of them. For if you were not a fairy, how could
you know that the flood was going to last two or three
days longer ?"
" There is no magic in that, dear little Betsi, for the
barometer hanging over there against the wall is point-
ing to continued storms. Moreover, the city archives
16
242 THE GREEN BOOK
tell us that the danger always lasts several days when
a southwest wind causes the Neva to overflow its bank."
" Well, that certainly is simple enough. So it was no
prophecy ? But then you said something else that that
gentleman, Sophie's only protector, could not go to her
help. Now what barometer told you that ?"
" Humph !" Zeneida, pressing her lips together, re-
flected for a moment, then said, " Do you know who
that illustrious person is ?"
" Of course I do. Why, how often have I met him
at Sophie's and have told him fairy tales ! And Sophie
has told me everything; things that no one else knows
anything about. But I will tell them to you, for people
who love each other must have no secrets don't you
think so ?"
" Certainly! Well, then, dear child, all this time that
illustrious personage has been unable to go to Sophie,
because, since the flooding of the Greater Neva, it has
been necessary for him to show himself wherever the
danger was greatest, in order, by his presence, to stimu-
late others to the task of assistance and to insure suc-
cess. Had he, instead of this, gone to Sophie, who lives
on the Lesser Neva, there would have been fearful riot-
ing. Do you understand this ?"
" Yes, indeed, I understand too well," returned Beth-
saba, sorrowfully.
" But to-day they do not allow that illustrious person-
age to show himself in the inundated streets."
"Who?"
" His advisers."
"Why not?"
"Because they have discovered a plot against his
life."
" Oh, how sad !" sighed Bethsaba. Then her mind
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 243
flew to the last link of her chain of thought : " A plot
against the life of the Czar, and known to Zeneida !
From whom could she have obtained the knowledge so
quickly ? From those two men ; but from which ?"
Timidly approaching Zeneida, and leaning over her
shoulder, she whispered :
" It was not the younger man of the two, was it, who
told you ?"
" No, no," replied Zeneida, to whom the child's whole
soul was revealed. " Fear nothing for him ! His hand
and heart are clear from it."
" And you are in it ?" asked the girl, touching Zeneida's
breast with the tip of her finger.
Zeneida was startled by the direct questions. Was it
childish curiosity, or had it a deeper meaning ? Bethsaba
remarked her surprise.
"You see, there can be no secrets where love is. I
will tell you all I know, and what hitherto I have told
to no one not even to my godmother, whom I believe
I fear more than I love. But you I love so very, very
much, and that is why I am going to tell what I know,
and how awfully they plot against him. He himself
told Sophie. In Petrovsko the rebellious soldiers and
peasants would not allow him to go farther; they in-
sulted and threatened him to that degree that he had to
turn back. Now these people were ragged and starv-
ing, and I can understand their being angry with him ?
But what complaint have you against him ? You are
rich, beautiful, and feted. Why, then, are you one of
the conspirators ?"
An idea flashed into Zeneida's mind. This child
might form the link in the chain that was still wanting.
" Come nearer ; let us whisper it, that even the walls
do not hear. I, too, love you, and will frankly tell you
244 THE GREEN BOOK
all I know. I, too, am in the conspiracy, and play an
important part in it."
" What reason have you ?"
" I am a ' Kalevaine.' "
" And what is a Kalevaine ' ?"
" In Soumalain language, that which you are in the
Circassian language. A girl who, when she came into
the world, had a home she no longer has, whose nation,
then Soumalain, is now known as Finnish. Doubtless
you remember as clearly as I do the people and places
you were among up to your sixth year, whom you may
never look on again, and yet whom you never can
forget?"
" Oh, it is true."
"Is it not? Amid all the pomp and splendor the
world can give, in the midst of the most brilliant court
festivities, do you not feel a sudden pang at heart when
the thought of your dark native woods flashes across
you; of the horsemen, on their fiery steeds, coursing over
the rushing mountain streams ; of the blue mountains
in the far distance, and your ancestral castle, in which,
enthroned, your father received the homage of his vas-
sals ?"
" Oh yes, yes."
"And even now you remember the legends told you
by the murmuring streams of your native land ?"
" You are right ; you are right."
"Well, then, you see, so it is with me. My recol-
lections, like the mighty roll of the Imatras, are forever
surging in my soul. Just as little can I forget those
moss-covered rocks, the most ancient peak in the whole
world, the Fata Morgana of our Finnish plains ; the red-
roofed houses, with low beams across the rooms, from
which hung strings of loaves ; the legends of Kalevala,
"THEN YOU ARE NOT ?" 245
and its people's freedom, of which my father used so
often to tell me. Then I did not understand all he said ;
now I recall all and understand him."
" I, too, recall; but I do not understand it yet."
"The Czar has deprived you, as me, of our father-
land ; he has deprived our people of their freedom !
And, as through him we became orphaned, homeless,
so he became a father to us in place of our own fathers.
For our little kingdoms he has given us a great one;
for our quiet homes, pomp and splendor. As a man,
he has been a father to us ; as Czar, a tyrant. For the
one I cannot be ungrateful to him ; for the other I can-
not forgive him. So I stand hemmed in by two con-
flicting duties. As my adopted father, it is my duty to
shield his sensitive heart, to protect him from the assas-
sin's dagger, from pain and sickness ; but at the same
time I am bound to deliver my country from the iron
grasp of the tyrant, to snatch from it my people and
their freedom. Do you understand ?"
" I see you fly before me ; but I cannot follow your
flight, cannot catch you up. Tell me, is ' he ' too in the
conspiracy ?"
Zeneida knew whom she meant by "he."
" No. He dare not ! I will not suffer him to take
part in it."
" Oh, then permit me, too, to remain out of it. Had
you told me he was in it, I must, too, have been."
" That's right ! You shall keep each other out of it.
But, all the same, you must stand by me in one part of
the hard duty."
" Tell me what I must do ! I will obey implicitly."
"Our first thought must be to bring Sophie here, and
to acquaint him whose heart is heavy on her account
that he need be anxious no longer."
246 THE GREEN BOOK
" Will you allow me to be the first to go in to So-
phie?"
"You alone; she would not trust any one else."
And Bethsaba could not have desired greater happi-
ness than to be the one privileged to step from the boat
on to the balcony of the mysterious house in Petrovsky
Garden. The flood had already risen to the balcony,
and she it \Vas who might hasten in to the neglected girl
and say, " You are saved !"
The poor child was already without provisions or fuel
of any description, for everything in the inundated cellar
and dining-room was spoiled by water. Wrapped in her
furs, she sat at the window, breathing upon it to make a
clear space, and gazing with dismay at the huge blocks
of ice floating unimpeded over the wrecked fence. Some,
with their sharp edges, cut through the great trees op-
posing them as with a saw ; others were tossed length-
wise against their barks, those following hurled upon
them, until suddenly a great silver birch would go down
with a crash. Once the resistance formed by the trees
swept down, the house must follow. A pencil and paper
lay prepared upon her writing-table, a carrier-dove in
its cage beside it. They had been brought her by the
Czar, that she might let him know when danger was im-
minent.
She was waiting to send off her message until the ex-
treme moment, for she knew the grave difficulties which
surrounded his coming to her rescue.
Thus her joy may be imagined on seeing Bethsaba
appear on the balcony.
Seizing her pencil, Sophie wrote, with trembling fin-
gers, " I am saved and in good hands ; have no further
anxiety for me !" Then tying her note on to the car-
rier-dove's wing, she set it loose. It flew up high in the
GOG AND MAGOG 247
air, then disappeared in the direction of the Winter Pal-
ace.
She did not ask where they were taking her, but fol-
lowed Bethsaba in good faith.
CHAPTER XXV
GOG AND MAGOG
THE Czar had not undressed at all that night ; but,
tired out, had thrown himself upon his couch, which had
no covering but a bear-skin.
Before sunrise he was up, and, without making a
change of dress, went to the window. It was frosted
over ; he had to open it to see out. He quickly closed
it again. The sight was terrible ! In feverish excite-
ment he threw on his cloak and hurried out. In the
anteroom his physician, Sir James Wylie, was waiting,
who at once accosted him with
" Your Majesty may not go out to-day !"
" I may not ? Who commands me ?"
"I merely prescribe, sire a right which physicians
may exercise towards princes."
" But there is nothing the matter with me."
" But there may be. Your health is endangered."
"That rests in the hands of God." And he passed
on.
In the audience-chamber he found Araktseieff.
" Your Majesty cannot go out to-day."
" So you, too, order me, as well as the physician."
"Your Majesty's life is in clanger."
" Not for the first time. He who protected me yes-
terday will not fail me to-day. Be a Christian, and do
248 THE GREEN BOOK
not treat me like a child who lets himself be frightened
by old women's tales. Remain at your post ; I go to
mine."
Araktseieff knew the Czar, and that opposition only
made him more obstinate ; so stood deferentially aside
as the Czar strode past him.
The Czar passed, alone, down the long corridor hung
with pictures of the battles he had fought. At the end
of it a little negro groom stood waiting with a note,
which he handed in silence. It was the Czarina's page,
a birthday present to her of long ago. The Czar hur-
riedly broke open the note and ran it over, then looked
down meditatively. Without a word he went back to
his apartment and took off his cloak.
The note was from the Czarina: "I am afraid to be
alone in the palace. Please do not leave me now !"
The words were a command ; one which even the
Ruler of All the Russias had no choice but to obey. His
wife was afraid !
Now he is condemned to remain within the palace,
like any imprisoned criminal.
For the first time for fourteen years his wife had
made a request to him. How could he refuse it? Not
only his sense of duty as emperor impelled him to re-
pair to scenes of distress and danger, but also he was
urged by that mysterious impulse from within, which
ever drove him from one end of his empire to the other,
leaving him no rest by night, until he would rise, get
into his carriage, and drive from street to street. To
stay in one place was torture to him. He had but
returned this very week from a journey which led him
as far as to the Kirghiz steppes. And now was he
to sit idly at home? His wife had asked it. It is not
much she asks. She does not beg him to come to her
GOG AND MAGOG 249
in her apartments, to stay with her, to cheer and com-
fort her ; she only asks him to remain under the same
roof.
Now he has leisure to pace from one end to the other
of his room, to hearken to the pealing of bells, the roar
of the wind, and the splash of the waves, whose surf
dashes up to his windows. Suddenly he utters a cry
" Where are you, Sophie ?" It is well that no one
hears him, that he is alone. In spirit, he is in that soli-
tary house, surrounded by the waves. His eyes search
round the empty rooms where wind and weather sport
unchecked, and, not finding her, he cries, " Sophie !
where are you ?" The vision he had called up was
even more terrible than the awful reality of raging
nature without. He could better bear to look upon
that. Rushing to the balcony of the palace, he tore
open the glass doors, and gazed down upon the ghastly
devastation. The sight was awful indeed !
Wide as an ocean bay, the giant river was rolling
back its waves upon Lake Ladoga. Ever and anon
from out the misty distance loomed visions reflected in
the surface of the madly rushing waters.
When Napoleon, watching the fire of Moscow from
the Kremlin, saw how the storm was rolling the sea of
flame upon the city, he cried in despair, "But what
wind is this ?" So now Alexander, as he watched the
waves, lashed by the furious storm, dash up against his
palace, asked, "But what wind is this?"
Houses roofless and in ruins; half -naked creatures
clinging to their framework ; here, a tiny hand raised
in piteous appeal from its mother's arms ; there, a man
rowing with a plank, who finds no place to land on.
Every gust of wind, every wave, brings some fresh sight
to view. Now comes the remnant of a menagerie; its
250 THE GREEN BOOK
cages, chained together, are being whirled about in
eddying circles. A Bengal tiger, who has burst his
bonds, dashes wildly from one cage to another. Some
men, clinging to the bars, dare not climb on to the top
for fear of the infuriated animal. All must perish. Men
and beasts shriek and roar in chorus. The waves dash
them pitilessly on. Then comes the fragment of a wooden
bridge wedged in between two icebergs. Upon it there
still stands a carriage, shafts in air, from the interior of
which projects a pink dress. Bridge and carriage float
past, a flock of croaking ravens flying about them.
Who is sufficient for all these horrors ?
The current swept on, swift as an arrow, the waves
playing with their icy barriers ; now building them into
pyramids, now tearing them down, leaving a circling
eddy to mark the spot.
Close by the Winter Palace stands the Admiralty,
with its copper roof. The furious storm, tearing off a
portion of this, rolls it up, with thunderous din, like a
sheet of paper, flattens it out again, tosses it into the
air, showering down fragments of it like a pack of cards;
then, finally, rips off the whole remainder of the roof,
hurling it into the principal square. Then follows many
thousand casks of flour, sugar, and spices from the
flooded warehouses of the Exchange the whole winter
store of a great capital a prey to the waves !
Again another picture. Arrayed in order of battle
like a flotilla come a series of black boats, not originally
designed to carry their inmates over the water, but under
the earth. Coffins ! The flood had burst the walls of
the military cemetery of Smolenskaja, washed up thou-
sands of graves, and was now bringing back their occu-
pants to the city, of which they had long ago taken
farewell. The buried warriors were coming to march
GOG AND MAGOG 251
past the Czar once more the hurricane their deafening
trumpets, the waves their kettle-drums! They even
bring their memorial chapel with them, and their mar-
ble crosses, which tower in ghostly fashion from out the
icebergs !
Nor is the fearful cyclorama over yet. The horrors
of it are ever increasing. In the distance looms a three-
master, bearing down upon the city or, rather, in the
cold gray mist it looks the ghost of a man-of-war. It
had broken its moorings at Cronstadt in the gale, and
now, driven before the wind, was coming down upon the
city at full speed !
At that moment the Czar, forgetful of his dignity, hid
his face and wept, never thinking whether any eyes were
upon him. And many eyes were on him.
All those whom in the course of the previous night
the Czar had rescued from the tottering houses in the
suburbs all those who, taken unawares in the tumult
of the fair, did not know where to turn, the Czar had
lodged in the western division of the Winter Palace,
giving up that brilliant suite of rooms to the use of the
poor and destitute. Such guests as these the Winter
Palace had never harbored before ! True, at New-year
it was the custom for some forty thousand guests to as-
semble in the Winter Palace ; but they swept the floors
with silk, and illuminated the marble halls with their
diamonds. Now, however, it was the show-place for rags
and tatters. An exhibition of misery and destitution !
There were collected together all those who form the
shady side of a capital, and of whom the fashionable
world have no conception an aggregate of bitter
want and of shameless depravity. They who did not
dare to creep forth by day from their dark cellars have
given each other rendezvous in the Imperial Palace.
252 THE GREEN BOOK
The Czar sent them food and drink, and they spent the
night singing the Knife Song, taught them by the fre-
quenters of the Bear's Paw.
Czar Alexander heard it, and doubtless rejoiced to
know his guests were in such good -humor. They
opened their windows, and those in front put their
heads out, and called to the others to tell them what
they saw.
The facade of the Winter Palace had two projecting
wings. The refugees were housed in the west wing.
Between that and the east, like the middle stroke of the
capital letter E, stretched the covered balcony from which
the Czar had watched the panorama of destruction.
On seeing him his guests became mute.
He was an imposing figure, with expansive forehead
bared to the fury of the storm. As long as he re-
mained impassive his self-control communicated itself
to the spectators. But when they saw him break down
and shed tears, when they saw that the Czar was but a
man after all, they grew furious. Weakness arouses
indignation.
A man, brother to the French republican Marat, seiz-
ing his opportunity, sprang upon the window-sill and
shouted to the Czar :
" Yes, you may cry ! Cry for the loss of your fine
city ! The God of vengeance has sent this destruction
upon us as a penalty for your sins ! Plague, drought,
starvation all have come upon us through you ! For
you are deaf to the cry of our glorious brothers the
Greeks ! Their innocent blood that has been shed
cries out to Heaven for vengeance ! You are the cause
of this devastation ! Heaven is punishing us for what
you have done !"
The noisy voices of the people within drowned the
GOG AND MAGOG 253
concluding words ; their yells outvied the storm. The
mutinous speech had stirred up the already excited
people to fury. The refrain of the Song of the Knife
resounded to an accompaniment of infuriated noise and
confusion. They tried to burst open the strong doors
communicating with the corridor leading to the Czar's
apartments.
He, standing on the balcony, was rooted to the spot
by a double terror behind him the yelling populace
clamoring for his blood ; before him the approaching
ship. It was one of the largest men-of-war in the navy.
When frozen up in the winter the crew is paid off, and
the few men left in charge had evidently escaped, so
that it came along without guidance of any kind, and
was apparently making direct for the Winter Palace.
At the sound of raised and fierce voices every win-
dow in the central portion of the palace opened sudden-
ly, displaying a treble row of bayonets. At one of the
windows stood Araktseieff, who shouted in his cruel,
harsh voice to the rebels :
" Silence, instantly, you cubs of Gog and Magog, or
I will have you cast back into the flood from which
your sovereign lord saved you ! Ungrateful savages
that ye are !"
This was adding oil to the flames.
" Oh, oh, Araktseieff !" roared a thousand throats.
" There's the evil genius !"
" Come on !" screamed Marat. " Let's just see if
your thousand bayonets can conquer our ten thousand
knives! Make a beginning, or we will !"
The ship came nearer and nearer.
As it reached within half a cable's length of the Win-
ter Palace, the Czar perceived a man in the wheel-house
turning the wheel.
254 THE GREEN BOOK
" What are you about, man ?" he shouted down an-
grily to him.
The mail knew perfectly what he was about. It was
Borbotuseff, a naval officer and a deserter. How came
he on board ? No one knew. He steered straight for
the palace, with the one hope of crashing into it, in
order that all within, and he himself, might be buried
under it. A red flag was flying from the mast.
The struggling crowd and the guards saw nothing of
all this ; the balcony gallery cut off their view.
Now the moment had come to prove which was the
stronger, the house of wood or the house of stone.
But the current was stronger than either, and instead
of the bow of the ship striking the palace, it came
broadside on. It drew so much water that its keel
crashed on to the granite coping of the moat, throwing
the vessel on its side; while, like a knight in a tourna-
ment with outstretched lance, it struck with its masts
upon its stony adversary. A terrific crashing and
grinding two of the masts broke to pieces against the
pillars; the third crashed through one of the windows,
shaking the whole massive structure from foundation to
gable, yet the stone remained conqueror. The ponder-
ous vessel broke in two; the bow half of the wreck
was hurled on to Alexanderplatz ; the afterpart, with the
helmsman, fell back into the vortex, and was carried
away with the current.
The concussion was like an earthquake. Of a sud-
den there was silence. People, soldiers, even Araktse-
ieff, fell upon their knees. The man upon the balcony
alone remained standing. He had seen something in
the air. It was a dove.
The clove flew direct to him, hovered for a moment,
and then alighted on his shoulder.
UNDER THE PALMS 255
It was Sophie's carrier-dove.
Alexander found the letter under its wing, telling him
that Sophie was in good keeping. Then, folding his hands
in a prayer of thanksgiving, he raised them to Heaven.
But the dove is the sacred and wonder-working bird
of Russia.
As it descended upon the shoulder of the Czar the
fury of the people changed to superstitious worship. In
it they saw the embodiment of the Holy Ghost. He
who would not be lost must be converted. It was a
miracle from Heaven.
Bozse czarja chrani ! An old mujik suddenly started
the hymn of praise, and all present joined in it. Arak-
tseieff's bayonets had become unnecessary. Marat's
brother, leaving the rostrum, disappeared among the
multitude. Who could have found him among the ten
thousand there gathered? And even if they had he
would have denied his identity.
The flood lasted two days longer, leaving behind it
three thousand houses totally wrecked and a countless
list of dead.
The people firmly believed that Heaven's judgment
had been wrought because the Czar had not come to the
assistance of the Greeks in their War of Independence.
CHAPTER XXVI
UNDER THE PALMS
WITHOUT, ten degrees of cold, raging storm, flood,
devastation, misery, revolution, scenes of horror. The
palms knew nothing of all this. Upon the great, high
elevation, under its glazed roof, reigned perpetual spring,
256 THE GREEN BOOK
where huge lamps with ground-glass globes replaced
sunshine. And the tropical world suffered itself to be
deceived. King- ferns, brought hither from the East,
forgot that they were not growing in their native soil,
and that they were putting forward leaves, never blos-
soms. The soil beneath them was heated with hot-air
pipes and enriched by artificial aid.
And in this artificial garden of the tropics children
were playing who had forgotten that their fathers and
mothers were far away, perhaps not even caring. Here
they neither got blows nor were hungry ; but danced
round the "mulberry-bush" and sang. Two beautiful
young ladies wards of the Queen of the Fairies
looked after them, just as in fairy tales.
Bethsaba had now a real true fairy tale to tell of her
miraculous rescue from the terrible dangers ; the sudden
appearance of the handsome knight in her extremity,
how his beautiful eyes, his look of daring, his heroic
stature
Sophie grew quite anxious to see him.
" You will soon see him , he is sure to come, he prom-
ised me he would. Still it does seem to be a long time
before he keeps his word !"
" He is not, on any account, to know who I am," said
Sophie. " It is to be kept secret here. Our hostess
wishes it."
" Then we will only call you Sophie."
"It is singular that we three have only one Chris-
tian name ; neither you, nor I, nor Zeneida bear our
mother's names in addition, as is usual among us. I
cannot understand it."
" Nor I."
" Here he comes !"
" How do you know?"
UNDER THE PALMS 257
" I know his footstep."
And, in truth, he came. Zeneida brought him in, more
wet and muddy than the time before. His hair dishev-
elled ; his face reddened by the cold wind. Withal, so
handsome !
Bethsaba had told Sophie that here, too, a conspiracy
was on foot ; but that " he " was not in it. Who else,
then ? Sophie only believes what she sees.
" Come, come, Pushkin !" exclaimed Zeneida, with
strangely radiant look. Relate again, fully, what you
have already told me."
And Pushkin recounted all that had happened at the
Winter Palace, of which he had been an eye-witness, with
the enthusiasm of a poet inspired by the catastrophe.
The second girl was a stranger to him. Had he
known who she was he would not have described with
such poetic warmth the stirring scene when the Czar
stood bareheaded, the storm raging round him, menaced
alike by the fury of people and the fast- approaching
vessel.
She listened tremblingly to his recital, drinking in his
every word with feverish anxiety, the varying expression
of his face reflected in hers ; her lips seeming mutely to
repeat what he was saying. Shudderingly she hid her
face when the ship collided with the palace! She felt
the force of the shock, and staggered under it.
When Pushkin went on to tell about the dove her
dove how it descended on to the shoulders of her father,
the Czar, with what joy the august ruler had raised his
hands to heaven, and how with one voice the hymn of
praise had burst forth from the lips of the rebellious
people, the poor, overwrought girl's nerves could endure
no more ; with a cry of -joy she threw herself into Beth-
saba's arms, laughing and crying hysterically.
17
258 THE GREEN BOOK
Pushkin, attributing her excitement to the power of his
poetic delineation, was not a little proud of his success.
"But is all danger over now?" faltered Sophie, vent-
uring to raise her tearful eyes to the young man's face.
He, not understanding the question, answered :
" The danger is not over yet, although the storm is
certainly lessening, and, once lulled, the Neva will return
to its bed ; but until then much damage may yet ensue."
" It was not that I meant ; but if he is still in any
danger he, the Czar !"
Pushkin was amazed. What interest could this girl,
Bethsaba's friend, feel in the Czar?
" Danger at the hand of man cannot assail him, for
Araktseieff has taken the most stringent measures for
his protection. All those who were given shelter in the
Winter Palace are being transferred to the Admiralty.
Nay ; at such a time his very foes, even had he any,
would be the first to protect him."
" How can that be ?" she asked, and waited for Push-
kin's answer with the devout attention with which, in
former times, the answers of the Oracle were received.
A secret instinct told Pushkin that he must answer in
all sincerity.
"Because the feeling of ' humanity' is stronger than
that of 'love of freedom.' It protects alike the serf
when persecuted by the Czar, and the Czar when per-
secuted by the serf !"
The two girls heaved a deep sigh of relief into the
air, weighted with these significant words.
" You are laying cruel waste in these two hearts,"
whispered Zeneida in Pushkin's ear. "You had better
go back to your work."
" And you have not brought me the presents you
promised ?" asked Bethsaba, sorrowfully.
UNDER THE PALMS 259
" I had not forgotten them ; but from early morning
we were busy trying to make fast the wreck ; there must
have been some one on board cutting through our ropes
as fast as we threw them. And so I had no time to think
of saving little children."
"When next you make a promise do not forget it,"
returned she, in tone of aggrieved reproach.
Pushkin could not understand her. Why that tone ?
How should he understand it? He promised to come
again that evening to bring her good news, and some-
thing besides.
Neither she nor Zeneida had told him who the other
girl was. Zeneida now took both girls into her boudoir.
The time was approaching when she would be receiving
many visitors whom it was not expedient for them to
see.
The catastrophe offered favorable opportunity to the
" Szojusz Blagadenztoiga " to hold uninterrupted sittings.
There was to be a meeting of " the green book " to-day.
The two girls managed to find a "green book" for
themselves. They searched about in Zeneicla's boudoir
until they found Pushkin's poem, The Gypsy Girl. This,
of course, they had not read before; for, according to the
dictum of "good " society in Russia, a well-bred girl up to
her fifteenth year may indeed see, but not read, romances.
Moreover, that poem was not to be had in print, only
manuscript. Alexander Pushkin had created quite a
distinct calling which had never existed before, that of
transcriber. In every town were men who made a live-
lihood by copying out Pushkin's verses, sold, despite the
Censor, by the booksellers. (There are still many
houses in which only written copies of the works of the
Russian poet Petosy are to be found.)
The two girls now eagerly snatched at the forbidden
260 THE GREEN BOOK
fruit. First Bethsaba read it to Sophie ; then Sophie
to Bethsaba. The third time they read it together as a
duet.
Then they conferred the name of its hero, " Aleko,"
upon the author. And when they wanted to speak of
him called him only "Aleko." And it fitted only
the other way about. Aleko had wandered among the
gypsies (gypsy, poet, or bohemian being synonymous);
this gypsy or poet had wandered among princesses.
That evening Herr Aleko came, bringing cheering news.
The storm had subsided, and the water had fallen a
span ; although it must be some time before it resumed
its proper level, for it stretched away eight versts on
either bank.
(" Oh that it may last ever so long !" beat the heart
of each maiden, secretly.)
He had, moreover, brought something for Bethsaba
a little doll, such as he had promised her, but not a
little muddy doll in rags, but a lovely, gayly dressed,
sweet little doll, made of sugar. There were no others
to be had ; all the others had melted. Pushkin ex-
pected the girl to laugh at his offering ; but she took the
matter seriously, accepted it with greatest solemnity,
placed it in her bosom, and it was evident that she was
not sorry to see Sophie just a tiny bit jealous of her.
Pushkin was not slow to see that he must be careful,
so he sought in his pockets until he found something
worth offering.
" See, fair Sophie " he did not know her other name'
" I have something for you, too. You showed a special
interest in the Czar this morning. Here is a piece of
copper from the vessel that ran into the Winter Palace."
Thankfully it was received. The platinum mines of
the Ural had never produced so precious a piece of ore.
UNDER THE PALMS 261
" He can be no conspirator," whispered Sophie to
Bethsaba.
" Decidedly not," whispered Bethsaba back.
"The storm has quite gone down," said Zeneida.
"The bells have left off ringing. This will be a quieter
night than those we have been having of late. Good-
night, Pushkin. If you do not hurry you will find your
boat running aground."
The girls would not have minded if the water had
not gone down so fast.
Zeneida despatched Pushkin home, and the girls
to their beds. She was responsible for their good
health.
But it was long before they could settle to sleep.
They had so much to say about Aleko. They had made
up quite a different ending to the poem than the real
one : the gypsy girl was not to have been faithless, but
if she were, Aleko should have despised her and have
found a more faithful love. The gypsy girl should have
implored his pardon on her knees, and he should have
forgiven her, but not have driven her away from him.
In a word, they made Aleko what they fain would have
had him to be.
Zeneida, who slept in the next room, several times ad-
monished them to go to sleep. Then they would be
quiet as mice, the next moment to begin whispering
again. At last her regular breathing proved Sophie, at
least, to have fallen asleep. Bethsaba could not sleep ;
her heart beat so violently that, despite the prayers
she said, midnight found her still awake. Suddenly it
seemed to her as if the occupant of the next room had
risen, and with light footsteps had gone out into the
room beyond. The night was still. Neither sound of
carriage-wheels nor patrol disturbed the quiet of the
262 THE GREEN BOOK
inundated streets. From a distant apartment rose a
psalm, sung in a woman's voice, low and sorrowful :
" In every hour of grief and pain,
To Thee for help I crave ;
O Thou to whom none cry in vain,
Be present now to save."
Who was singing at that late hour ? What grief could
oppress her in this house? Bethsaba drew the bed-
clothes over her head to quiet her trembling.
Three clays longer the two girls spent under Zeneida's
protecting care that is, it was not until then that
Princess Ghedimin ventured to return from Peterhof, or
that the slime-covered ground-floor and cellars of the
little dwelling in Petrovsky Garden could be cleansed
and thoroughly aired by old Helenka. The girls mean-
while were living Elysian days. When Zeneida told
them that they could now go to their homes, Bethsaba
sighed :
"When I came here I thought I was coming to the
infernal regions ; now I feel as if I were being turned out
of Paradise !"
They saw Pushkin daily, had talks with him, and de-
lighted in the great, noble soul which lay like an open
book before them. Even earthly joys have their reve-
lations, awaking super-earthly joy when they cease to be
felt in secret. When the girls were alone Aleko was
the sole subject of their talk. Bethsaba thought she
must love Sophie the more for holding Aleko in such
high esteem ; yet she had not, even yet, breathed a word
to her friend of her love for him. At first, she had
thought, it would be an easy thing to tell. But the
secret of a first love is refractory ; it will not come forth
UNDER THE PALMS 263
from its concealment. She delayed her confession ;
guarding her secret like some hidden treasure ; dissem-
bled her love for him, or, at least, learned to belie her
feelings that she might not betray the happiness that
took possession of her at sight of him. Her blushes
she ascribed to headache, though, in reality, her head
was innocent of any such discomfort.
But at the moment of parting the confession must be
made. She would whisper it to her friend in few words,
then run away.
When their sedan-chairs actually arrived no carriages
could yet be used the two friends could scarce make
up their minds to part. They had ever fresh confi-
dences to whisper to each other ; they wept and laughed,
and quarrelled for the sake of making it up again. They
talked together in a language which they two only un-
derstood ; they promised to meet again very soon ; they
gave each other the parting kiss, then began to chatter
again. Zeneida watched them attentively.
At length the declaration must come. With the last,
very last, kiss the bomb must burst.
" I love Aleko until death."
This Sophie whispered into Bethsaba's ear, then ran
away.
Zeneida saw the rosy glow suffusing the cheeks of
the departing girl and the deathly pallor overspreading
those of her who remained,' as though the one had
stolen the life -glow from the other. Bethsaba stood
where she had left her, white, motionless, with sunken
head, and arms hanging lifeless at her side.
Zeneida at once divined the secret. She went up to
her, but hardly had she taken the girl's hands in hers
when, falling before her, bitterly weeping, the poor child
hid her face in Zeneida's dress.
264 THE GREEN BOOK
" Oh, why did you bring me here ?"
Zeneida raised her.
" Stand up. Do not cry. He will be yours."
" What ! I take him from her ?"
"Humph! Were it only 'her' you had to take him
from But do not be troubled. Love him ; you alone
deserve his 'ove."
The poor child shook her head sorrowfully. Now
she understood the meaning of " love," and with it what
"jealousy" and "resignation " meant.
CHAPTER XXVII
PANACEA
GREAT natural calamities often have a softening effect
upon excited masses.
The "great power," the people, and the "little mas-
ter," the Emperor, made friends again in the general
distress.
The storm of November, 1824, had been a universal
calamity. History knows no other so wide -spreading
in its devastating effects. Not only did it lay St. Pe-
tersburg in ruins, but it raged throughout Asia and in-
undated the shores of California. Sailors saw the clear
sea in mid-ocean thick with mud and slime ; from India
to Syria flourishing towns were laid in the dust by
earthquakes ; volcanoes burst forth in the Greek Archi-
pelago ; in Germany many springs were dried up. The
whole world was in a state of upheaval. It was no time
to think of revolutions.
Political secret societies changed themselves into
philanthropic unions. Party spirit died out. The poor
PANACEA . 265
went unhesitatingly to claim relief from the rich, and
the doors of the rich were ungrudgingly opened to them.
The incitements of the " Irreconcilables " found no'
fruitful ground. Prince Ghedimin and Araktsejeff vied
with each other in their efforts to relieve the distress
of the people. Each impartially scattered his hundred
thousand of rubles abroad : the one forgetting that his
aim had been to free, the other to oppress, the people.
The people now were in need of neither sword nor
chains only of bread.
Nor were the ladies of St. Petersburg backward in re-
lieving the distress caused by the inundations. Princess
Ghedimin presented her diamonds to the committee, the
sale of which brought them in thirty thousand rubles,
while Zeneida gave a concert at the Exchange for the
sufferers, the tickets for which sold for enormous prices,
and which realized forty thousand rubles. Prince Ghe-
dimin presented his wife with diamonds double the value
of those she had given away. Zeneida received a wreath
of laurel from the jeunesse doree of St. Petersburg and
an ode from Pushkin. Thus once more had Korynthia
lost the game, and her adversary had triumphed.
Those days of tribulation had made the Czar more
reserved than ever. His melancholy had dated from
the day on which he had witnessed the burning of Mos-
cow, his capital ; and now it had been his fate to wit-
ness the ruin of his second capital. One had been
destroyed by fire, the other by water. Waking and
sleeping, the dread visions were before him.
But the saddest sight to him of all was that pale
child's face, to which nothing brought animation. One
day he said to Sir James Wylie :
" It is vain to try and cure me ; my sickness lies with-
in, not without. Cure Sophie, and I shall be cured."
266 THE GREEN BOOK
. The physician was silent.
" Tell me frankly. Have you no hope ?"
"None."
" Has your medical skill absolutely no panacea, no
remedy to preserve a precious life to us no remedy
which day by day might arrest Death hovering on the
threshold, and so prolong that dear life from spring to
autumn ?"
44 Yes, there is such a remedy, sire ! But it does not
grow among health-giving herbs of India. In illnesses
such as these the spirits of the patient are the most im-
portant factor. Sorrow, grief, and care hasten the catas-
trophe, while cheerfulness, an equable temperament, joy,
and hope delay it. The love of life renews life."
" Humph ! How am I to give her joy, hope, and love
of life when I have not got them myself ?"
A day came which brought joy to the Czar.
His Governor in the Urals announced to him the dis-
covery of new deposits of gold and platinum, with prom-
ise of abundant mining. He sent a specimen of the plat-
inum that had been found. A truly valuable discovery!
At the same time arrived a report from the Governor
of Jekaterinograd, notifying the discovery in the great
desert of a species of beetle which fed on the exuber-
ant knot-grass (..poligoriuni) of those parts, a useless plant
and one' impossible to extirpate. The beetle in ques-
tion, known in the learned tongue as Coccus polouorum,
is identical with the cochineal, and affords the most
beautiful purple and pink dye. He sent the Czar, as a
sample, a piece of rose-colored silk dyed with the purple
of the native beetle.
This was a greater treasure even than gold and plati-
num ; it grows like a weed, gives no trouble, and will
support the inhabitants of those inhospitable steppes.
PANACEA 267
But the third consignment was the most interesting.
The Governor of the Amurs sent from Siberia a cask of
wine grown in the Amur country. This is a still greater
treasure than gold or bread, for it implies a triumph
a triumph in the face of the whole world, which pro-
claims Siberia to be a frozen hell ! See ! this wine
contradicts it! It is more sparkling than champagne,
sweeter than Tokay at least, one must pretend that it
is. Siberia can grow wine ! Henceforth every Russian
must drink it. Siberian wine must supplant foreign
wines for the tables of the great ; it must compete with
Burgundy, the Rhine, and the Hegyalji. To be exiled
to Siberia will no longer count as a punishment ; those
in search of fruitful soil will settle there of their own
free-will. Siberia can grow wine ! If any one doubts
the future of that country, who would argue with him
now ? One gives him a glass and fills it. " Try this ;
this is Siberian wine !"
The Czar was as happy as a child! He still had one
joy left.
And he hurried off, on the strength of it, to the Pe-
trowsky Garden house. He had the platinum, the silk,
and the cask of wine brought after him, thinking that
what gladdened him must also gladden Sophie. The
poor child was looking very pale ; she was not allowed
to go out at all in the winter ; the cold air out-of-doors
was rapid poison to her; the heated air within -doors
slow poison. A strange country, where the invalid can-
not even love his home ! He hates the sky which kills
him and the earth which keeps him bound. It is the
survival of the fittest; if a man be strong enough to
enjoy a winter in Russia he thrives ; if not, he dies.
In every Russian lady's drawing-room is a special
corner fitted up called the " Altana."
268 THE GREEN BOOK
It is a space surrounded by a little railing grown with
ivy and containing a bower of Southern plants and
flowers which, during the long nine months of winter,
thrive and blossom in the artificial light and warmth of
lamps and stove, and make one forget the rigorous
weather outside.
Alexander had had such a fragrant orange grove fitted
up for Sophie when the house had been put in order
for her after the inundation. He had not been to see
her since the court gardener had carried out his instruc-
tions; perhaps it had given her pleasure.
Alas ! nothing gave her pleasure.
The Czar asked, " What is amiss with you, my dar-
ling?"
"An unspeakable sorrow."
To cheer her, he showed her the treasures he had
brought with him the ore, silk, and wine. But her
face did not brighten, she did not smile. To his good
news she had but " How nice ! how fortunate ! Oh,
thank you !" to say.
" Come, tell me, what is amiss with you ? There is
something more than bodily illness ; it is mental trouble.
Tell me, what is grieving you ? To whom should you
tell it if not to me ? Who shall place confidence in me
if you do not feel it ?"
Then, throwing her arms round her father's neck, and
drawing his head down to her, Sophie whispered, very
low:
" It is love !"
Then, drawing back with abrupt movement, she buried
her face in her hands.
Astonished, the Czar asked, "But where can you have
met any one to fall in love with ?"
" The flood brought us together."
PANACEA 269
" And who is the man ?"
" If you speak so angrily I shall not dare to tell you."
"It is not anger but excitement that made me speak
so sharply. He whom you love is forgiven everything."
" Really ? You do not forbid me to love somebody ?"
" If only he is worthy of you. What is his rank ?"
" An officer of the Body Guard."
" I will give him a regiment and make him a prince,
so that he may ask you in marriage."
" Let me kiss you for that ! But do not give him
anything, father. Let him remain as he is ; I love him
for what he is now, and want him always to remain the
same. He is more than a prince, more than a general !
Higher far than they "
"Who is it, then?"
" Well, Aleko."
"What Aleko?"
" Oh ! do you not know his name ? Then stoop
down and I will whisper it in your ear."
The Czar drew her to him.
"Would you like to be his wife ?"
For all answer the girl looked at him with eyes opened
wide and radiant expression.
"Would you like to be his wife?"
"What else could I desire? Poor little foundling as
I am, I should be happy indeed to have such a prospect.
And we would be so happy together. Aleko would not
murder me for my faithlessness. But how can we let him
know ? So far, he has not had permission to come here."
" From this time forth he shall."
" But who can tell him ?"
" I, myself. I will bring him to you."
" You are as good a father as in one of Bethsaba's fairy
tales."
270 THE GREEN BOOK
" I will see myself to all the preparations, will arrange
your dowry, settle the day, and command the Patriarch
of Solowetshk here to celebrate the marriage."
"Oh yes, in summer, when the roses are out. My
bridal wreath shall be of real roses."
" I will have your wedding ornaments made from this
nugget of platinum. And now you really are as happy as
I am, are you not ?"
" Oh, happier !"
"And will you have this pink silk for your wedding-
dress ?"
" You have just guessed my wish that my wedding-
dress should be pink. White makes one look pale, and
I am pale enough without that."
"This wine from the Amur we will drink at your wed-
ding-breakfast."
" And I too will taste it. We will drink to each other.
1 As many drops in this goblet, so many years our love
shall last !' Is not that the saying?"
" Then you shall take up your residence on his estate.
How strange that I should have just given him back his
confiscated property ! He shall have his ancestral castle
put in order for you to live in, and I will come and visit
you constantly."
Sophie clapped her hands with delight, her pale cheeks
aglow. Then suddenly the light in her eyes died away.
"But is all this only joking?"
"Joking? Do I ever joke with you ?"
" That Aleko should pay court to me, that you should
give me to him for wife, that the Patriarch should marry
us on a lovely day in the lovely month of roses. Is it
not all a dream ?"
Alexander, instead of answering, took her in his arms
and closed her mouth with kisses.
PANACEA 271
Yes, poor child, it is real. The only unreal part of
it is that before those roses shall have blossomed you
will be
Alexander commanded Pushkin to his presence that
day, and made short work of the matter.
" You have caused a young girl to fall in love with
you. You must marry her. Her name is Sophie Na-
rishkin. Wait upon me to - morrow evening at six
o'clock. I will take you to her, that you may formally
ask her hand. You will then visit her daily, and see
that you endeavor to cause her no sorrow. Her life
hangs on the slightest thread ; that thread is in your
hands. Beware that you are not the cause of her death."
Pushkin was in a very awkward situation.
The hand of the Czar's favorite daughter was offered
him to him, the conspirator, the Constitutionalist, the
sworn enemy of the tyrannical Czar. He was to ask a
girl in marriage who was in love with him, whom he
pitied and admired but did not love. That girl's life
hung on the hope of becoming his wife ; with the extinc-
tion of that hope the feeble spark of life within her
would be extinguished. Merely to breathe " I do not
love you " would suffice to kill her. And what made
his position the more difficult was the circumstance
that at Sophie's he would be constantly meeting that
other girl whom he looked upon as his betrothed, So-
phie's only friend, Bethsaba, to whom he had given
his whole soul. Two hearts to be thus stricken and
betrayed !
What bitter punishment for past frivolity brought back
upon his own head ! But there was no turning back.
We are in Russia, and when the Czar commands there
is no option but to obey.
The next day Alexander himself took Pushkin to
272 THE GREEN BOOK
Sophie. The betrothal took place in his presence.
Pushkin was able to convince himself that the heart
intrusted to him was a treasure far above the merits of
any sublunary being. He learned that there can be an
ideal bliss infinitely more sublime than any earthly en-
joyment utterly without sensual passion a magic of
sympathy which is not dependent upon the power of
possession ; that spiritual attraction is stronger even
than love. It was to him as though one of those angelic
souls already floating heavenward were drawing him
thither in its train.
A few weeks later Sir James Wylie said to the Czar :
"Princess Sophie's health is improving visibly."
"I have found the panacea !" was the reply.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE WEDDING PRESENT
As Alexander had said, so it was. His health was in
close sympathy with that of his daughter. With the
return of color to her cheeks his spirits revived. Once
more he busied himself with affairs of state. In his
study were whole piles of unsigned papers from various
departments and of letters through the " St. Sophie "
post-box. He set to work upon them, and the mountain
of papers was soon hugely diminished. The Sophien-
post was a singular institution of Alexander's. In Czar-
skoje Zelo was an office where any one might give in
letters to be delivered direct to the Czar. The official
demanded ten rubles a letter, but asked no questions
either as to the writer or its contents, whether of com-
THE WEDDING PRESENT 273
plaint, petition, accusation, calumniation of those in
office, or favorable mention, or schemes for a new con-
stitution of the empire. One hour later it was in the
Czar's hands were he in St. Petersburg, or was sent
after him if he were travelling.
The surest sign of his improvement in health and
spirits was that he ceased to tear through the streets at
night, and supped on the first holiday evening with the
Czarina, having decided to communicate the happy ti-
dings to her. Elisabeth was the first to hear it. The
Patriarch himself had only been informed that on the
2ist of June he was to be at the late Czar Peter's resi-
dence on Petrowsky Island, where he would find a young
couple waiting to be married.
Meanwhile, every petition addressed to the Czar's
clemency was being granted. Exiles were allowed to
come home, political prisoners released from prison.
It was not in vain that Pushkin had sacrificed his
love. His tenderness charmed back to Sophie's lips
the smile of happiness which is so delusively like that
of health. And that smile charmed a bright, cloudless
sky over the whole empire. When he came, punctual
to the minute, with his bouquets of flowers, and, with
some pretty compliment about the improved looks of
the girl hurrying to meet him, would sit down beside her
and begin telling her the news, Pushkin was making the
happiness of an empire. Or did he ask about her last
night's dreams and tell their meaning; or play cards with
her, letting her win and himself be laughed at ; or read
poems and romances to her; bring her the first hot-
house fruit or delicate bonbons ; watch her somewhat
inartistic attempts at drawing and painting, oft stealing
a kiss the while, and getting his hair pulled for it
then a whole empire was in sunshine !
18
274 THE GREEN BOOK
This even the unfortunates on the far-off Baikal
Lake, who break stones in Bleiberg mines, experienced ;
for every kiss pressed on Sophie's brow the fetters on a
pair of hands were loosed.
The Czar, who purposely came to her late, after Push-
kin had gone, always found her luxuriating in bliss. Her
talk would be all of Pushkin, and of all he had told her.
Sometimes they talked about politics. Sophie induced
Pushkin to confess what was the exact object of the
secret society she had heard about. And, like an en-
gaged man should, Pushkin candidly told her that what
they wanted was a parliamentary constitution ; that
among them there was many a man who could speak
as well as the members of the English House of Com-
mons, and who ought to have the right to be heard.
The government would then find a majority composed
of Tartars, Kirghis, Kalmucks, Jakutes, Bashkir, and
Finnish deputies, who would outvote the Russian revo-
lutionists, and the country would be tranquillized. That
parliament should have the control of the exchequer,
so that in the case of a minister peculating he might be
sent about his business, and, at least, give others the
chance to do the same. Freedom of the press was also
necessary, so that they might go to loggerheads among
themselves instead of growling in an undertone. That
was what they hoped to arrive at. The Czar was in-
finitely amused when he heard of it all, taking it very
differently from what he did when Araktseieff told him
the same things.
People began to think that the good' times were
coming back. Some ten years ago they had ventured
to talk of constitutional liberty in presence of the Czar,
and the meetings of free masonic lodges were openly
announced in the daily papers.
THE WEDDING PRESENT 275
The improvement in Sophie's health deceived even
the doctors ; the bad symptoms had entirely disap-
peared. Miracles do happen sometimes ! The power
of nature is inexhaustible ! Preparations for the wed-
ding began in earnest. The Czar had the bride's trous-
seau, including the pink-silk gown and platinum diadem,
sent from Paris, and had the satisfaction of revelling
in Sophie's radiant face on seeing all the lovely things.
One day the Czar said to Pushkin :
" My son, if God permits us to live to that happy day,
which will also be a turning-point in my life, what shall
I give you for a wedding present ?"
And Pushkin, falling on his knees, said :
" Father, on that day give your subjects a constitu-
tion."
The Czar was silent. This gave Pushkin courage to
continue.
" Your Majesty, the whole world is in a state of fer-
ment, and preparing for eruption, like Vesuvius. The
volcanic eruption can be avoided by a roll of paper in-
scribed with the single word * Charta ' ! Not I alone, but
your whole country, every honest man, every patriot,
every one about the throne, thinks and says the same.
Do not grant us immediate freedom, do not remodel our
country on foreign lines; but lead your people gradually,
step by step, towards freedom ; surfer the constitution to
be shaped according to the habits and needs of your
people. But do away with serfdom ! Banish Arak-
tsejeff, who stands like an evil genius between you and
the people. Take the education of the masses out of
the hands of the Sacred Synod, and restore it to Galit-
zin. Call the notables of the land to your throne-room,
and command them to speak out candidly to you. Do
away with the censorship, and grant permission to every
276 THE GREEN BOOK
man to publish his thoughts to the light of day ; dismiss
the dishonest stewards, who are robbing you and the
country. Annul the military colonies, which are a very
pest of oppression in the land ; summon the old regi-
ments, give them back their standards, unite them in a
camp, put us at their head, and send us to the rescue of
our Greek brothers in arms, who are drowning in a sea of
their own blood. You will see what a nation is capable
of when, in possession of freedom herself, she is fighting
for the independence of other nations how she would
rise above all others ! Oh, give us freedom, and we will
give you glory !"
The Czar listened to the end, then said :
" Rise ! I forgive you your audacious words !"
Some day later Araktseieff set off, very quietly, for
his country estate, Grusino. It was whispered that, at
his own request, he had been granted a long leave of
absence. His departure was emphasized the more by
Prince Ghedimin being chosen as his successor. He was
now among the confidential entourage of the Czar, who
might approach him, at any hour, without being an-
nounced.
More still took place. Magriczki, the most detested
member of the Council of Enlightenment, was dismissed,
and younger censors were appointed instead of the old
ones. It was also known that the Russian Ambassador
at the Porte had received instructions to energetically
promote a more humane system of warfare against the
Greeks in their War of Independence. It was also de-
cided to form a camp instantly in the vicinity of Bender.
Finally clear sign of a new epoch all the regiments
of the guards were recalled from the military colonies
and concentrated in St. Petersburg.
THE WEDDING PRESENT 277
These events filled the apostles of freedom with new
hopes. The Secret Society of the North decided, on these
lines, to support the Czar by all the means in their power,
although the leaders of that society were not misled.
Pestel sent word to Ghedimin : " It is all a comedy !
They want to make fools of us ; the whole business will
only last three months. I shall stick to my plan !" But
the Bear's Paw by degrees lost all its associates, and
the sole use Jakuskin found for his knife at that time
was to pick his teeth with.
Pushkin, meanwhile, devoted himself completely to
his duties as bridegroom and to versifying. He wrote
a charming poem under the title of The Spring of Bak-
tshisseraj, which he read aloud first to Sophie. And the
milder censorship made its publication easy.
When the Czar was informed that the poem had been
submitted to the Censor of course such an event had
to be notified to the Czar he said to Pushkin :
" I advise you to dedicate your poem to a certain
lady."
" To my betrothed ?"
" No. To the Princess Ghedimin."
Pushkin understood the hint. It was desirable in
some manner to pay court to Sophie's mother. This
was the most natural way.
The Czar added :
"When you take her your poem, tell her that on the
2ist of June you will celebrate your marriage with So-
phie Narishkin."
That, too, was quite en regie. Pushkin needed no ex-
planation. The bridegroom -elect must himself take
Korynthia the tidings of Sophie Narishkin's approach-
ing marriage, and receive from her the kiss of consent.
The wooing and consent would be expressed in the form
278 THE GREEN BOOK
of the dedication of the poem and its acceptance. The
form was delicate, yet expressive. Both think differently
and speak differently; it was a wooing under poetical
guise.
Pushkin was quite up to the proprieties in first seek-
ing out Prince Ghedimin.
" Ivan Maximovitch, I have written a new poem,
which I should greatly like to dedicate to the Princess
Maria Alexievna Korynthia. May I beg you to read it.
and if you deem it worthy of the honor of bearing the
Princess's name to be my advocate with her ?"
" I will read your verses with pleasure, and may vent-
ure to tell you beforehand that the Princess will esteem
your dedication as a great distinction, and will be proud
to read her name in print on any work of yours."
And Pushkin, that same day, received a note from
the Prince telling him that the Princess would receive
him the next day at seven o'clock in her summer palace
on Neva Island.
The great heat prevented people going out earlier.
The St. Petersburg world of fashion had already re-
paired to their villas. Even the rich burgher lived in
Neva Island on his "dotcha." The Czar had accom-
panied Elisabeth and her court to her favorite castle
" Monplaisir," in the vicinity of which was Sophie's
dwelling.
The Czar could now visit her very seldom, for in June
the nights are not dark in St. Petersburg. But she had
her lover to keep watch over her.
But one short week separated them from the wedding.
MADAME POTIPHAR 279
CHAPTER XXIX
MADAME POTIPHAR
AT the appointed hour Pushkin presented himself at
Villa Ghedimin, and was passed on from one footman
to another, until he finally arrived at Korynthia's bou-
doir.
The Princess was a handsome woman ; but to-day she
wanted to surpass herself. The feminine fashions of
that day were very becoming. The pale -golden silk,
fine as any from the loom, thrown lightly about her head,
enhanced the gold of her waving hair, arranged in a
classic coil, and threw up her complexion ; as did the
soft Brussels lace the whiteness of her neck and arms.
Her shoulder-straps even were set with yellow dia-
monds, and, coquettishly placed between the lace, a
pale yellow tea-rose diffused its delicate perfume. Her
whole being betrayed an agitation unusual to her. She
blushed and smiled as Pushkin entered. And both
blushes and smiles repeated themselves during the
greeting and exchange of customary courtesies. Then
she signed him to a chair, while she seated herself upon
a silken divan opposite to him, and opened the conver-
sation.
" I have shed as many tears over your lovely poem
as though I had been myself to the Baktshisseraj Well
of Tears."
" I am rejoiced that the heroine of my lay should have
280 THE GREEN BOOK
won your sympathy, Princess. For in her I imperson-
ated my betrothed, Sophie Narishkin."
Oh, what a change passed over her face !
Her cheeks aflame with anger, her eyebrows arched
like bows, her eyes shooting out arrows of fire.
" You desire to marry Sophie Narishkin ?" she cried,
passionately. " Impossible !"
" I think it, on the contrary, very possible, seeing
that our wedding is already fixed for the 2ist of June."
" In a week ? Has the betrothal been already an-
nounced, then ?"
" No ! A dispensation has been granted for our
marriage."
Springing from her divan, the Princess gasped :
" Impossible ! Impossible !"
Pushkin retained his seat. He was not easily fright-
ened by any man or woman either. So he answered,
calmly :
" But, my dear Princess, what objection can you have
to it ?"
Korynthia saw that she had suffered her impetuosity
to carry her too far. So, commanding herself, she re-
sumed her seat and made as if fanning herself from the
heat.
" He who advised you to this was no friend of yours !"
she hissed out.
" It was the Czar !"
Korynthia, shutting her fan, put it to her lips. After
a short silence she said :
"You know, then, that the Czar is Sophie's father?"
"I have divined it."
"And have you also divined the future which awaits
you in marrying a daughter of the Czar ? You will be
banished from the society in which you have hitherto
MADAME POTIPHAR 281
lived ; the circles into which you will try to force your-
self will hold you in contempt. As long as the Czar
lives you will be a prisoner in the glittering cage of the
court, deprived of free-will; an unhappy man, born to
enlighten others, condemned to be the shadow of a man !
At the death of the Czar you may be appointed to a
governorship in the Caucasus or on the Amur."
" Princess ! I shall neither become a prisoner at
court nor governor of Kamchatka. My wife will accom-
pany me to my little estate of Pleskow, where I mean
to be sometime farmer, sometime poet."
" You do not love the girl. Vanity alone has led you
to this step."
Pushkin never took a blow unrequited even from a
woman.
" Princess, did you know her you would know that it
were impossible not to love her !"
The Princess bit her lips until they bled. It was a
cruel thrust. Quickly upon it followed a second.
" Sophie has only inherited her father's sweetness of
disposition ; nothing of her mother."
The Princess rose. She could bear it no longer.
Her face was deathly pale, her eyes gleaming with a
dangerous light. Going up to Pushkin, she seized his
hand as she whispered :
" Has the Czar also confided to you the name of So-
phie's mother ?"
"Never!"
" Have you heard it from any one else ?"
" From no one who had a right to know it."
"Come, then, sit down by me," gasped the Princess,
convulsively clutching Pushkin's arm, and drawing him
on to the divan beside her. " Listen to me ! I will
make a confession to you. What I have hitherto told
282 THE GREEN BOOK
to none but the Patriarch I will confess to you." Sobs
choked her voice ; then violently tearing the lace hand-
kerchief with which she had dried her tears, she con-
tinued, " Even to my husband I have never dared to
say what I now tell to you : / am Sophie Narishkin's
mother /"
Pushkin, of course, appeared to be intensely surprised
at this discovery.
"You be my judge," continued the Princess, as she
threw back the gossamer covering from her shoulders.
She drew a long breath. " I was but a child, scarce
sixteen ; my parents dead. I met a man whom all con-
spired to worship. The aunt who brought me up was a
vain, ambitious woman, and had made me equally so.
Every one about me counselled me to return his love,
telling me that he was unhappy for cause of me. They
sought out old records of how Czars who had not loved
their wives had sent them into convents, and had raised
others, more beloved, to share the imperial throne. Flat-
tery, ambition, inexperience, youthful fancy, turned my
head, and I fell. Ah, how low I fell ! So low that
my whole life since has been one expiation ! Still, I
never relinquished hope ; I ever believed that the man
who had wronged me would come one day to raise me
from shame to splendor. I implored him ; I knelt in
the dust at his feet. Then he published the ukase
that only the daughters of reigning families might be
raised to the throne of Russia that was the answer to
my dreams! In the depths of my despair a man in
my own rank of life came and asked my hand. True,
he had no love to give me, but he gave me his name ;
I, too, had no love to give him, but I have borne his
name honorably and spotlessly before the world. And
now there suddenly breaks upon me the dreaded catas-
MADAME POTIPHAR 283
trophe which for sixteen long years has been my nightly
terror : Sophie Narishkin will marry, and people will be
asking, ' But who is this Sophie Narishkin ? Who is her
father who is her mother ?"
" You may make yourself at ease on that score, Prin-
cess. The wedding will be conducted in all privacy by
the Patriarch of Solowetshk in the Chapel of Peter the
Great on Petrovsky Island. After the wedding not a
soul will see the young couple in St. Petersburg, or
speak about them."
This consolation was poison to the heart of the Prin-
cess. Would she see Pushkin no more, then ?
" But why this feverish haste ? The girl is but a child,
scarce sixteen years old !"
"Princess," returned Pushkin, mournfully, "we do
not reckon time by years, but by the griefs we endure ;
and by that computation Sophie has already lived a long
life. Sixteen years of confinement, banishment, unrec-
ognized by any one sixteen years without knowing a
loving word or ray of brightness should count for age
enough ! It is just this dream of happiness that is keep-
ing the poor child in life. Sophie is a somnambulist on
this earth. To awaken would be to kill her !"
" So it is a spirit of magnanimous self-sacrifice which
binds you to her you are not in love with her ?"
" I worship her ; am hers forever."
" I see. Permit me to meditate over the subject.
This news has taken me so by surprise that I can give
you no answer at present. Can this marriage not be
delayed ?"
" No."
" Why not ?"
" The Czar is going on a journey it may be a long
very long journey. He will shortly hold a great review
284 THE GREEN BOOK
of the guards, and then start. But of this Prince
Ghedimin can inform you better than I. At any rate,
it is the Czar's pleasure that our marriage takes place
before he leaves."
" Then at least allow me to defer my answer to the
last moment. I have so much to say to you ; do give
me as long a time as you can. Come again on the
twentieth, and even then not until dusk, so that your
coming may not attract attention. In order to enter un-
perceived you will readily understand why I should not
wish a visit from Sophie's bridegroom, on the very eve
of his wedding-day, to be publicly known take this
key. It belongs to the door of the veranda which
opens on to the park. Thence, by a spiral staircase,
you ascend direct to my apartments. We can then talk
over various matters undisturbed, which you ought to
know."
Pushkin put the key intrusted to him in his pocket,
and, kissing the Princess's hand, took leave, Korynthia
giving him the farewell kiss on his lips and accompany-
ing him to the door of her room.
From this we glean that the Russian scientist was
right in his remarks upon "degenerated cats" at least,
as far as this woman is concerned.
CHAPTER XXX
A MOTHER'S BLESSING
IN the villa shaded by aromatic pines the bride elect
awaited the happy day. No longer a prisoner, con-
demned to lifelong imprisonment. For the hardest im-
prisonment of all is sickness; one is made to hear at
A MOTHER'S BLESSING 285
every step, "Oh, don't run ! Don't sing ! You must not
drink water ! Keep your shawl about your throat \ Do
not eat this ! Mind you don't take cold ! Don't get
overheated !"
Even the doctor stays away. The panacea has done
wonders.
The lovely month of roses had come. The bride-
groom had had the path along which Sophie was to
walk planted with roses, and the happy girl collected
the blossoms, morning and evening, that not a single
leaf might fall to the ground. Why did she do this ?
When the leaves were dry she meant to fill a silken
cushion with them. Sleep would be so sweet on such
a cushion.
She was even now spreading out her leaves on the
sunny side of the veranda, singing to herself as she did
so. No one forbade her to sing now; it was allowed;
only old Helenka grumbled out the adage, " Sing on
Friday, cry on Sunday." But Sophie is accustomed to
laugh at such wise saws from her old nurse. Who be-
lieves in such superstitious omens nowadays ? When all
of a sudden good old Helenka sighed out, anxiously:
" Holy Maria ! St. Anna ! What brings her here?"
And without another word she ran off, to avoid the
new-comer.
Sophie, looking up wonderingly, saw a lady of striking
beauty coming down the garden path. She wore a dress
of gay-colored embroidery, a bird of paradise in her bon-
net, and upon her shoulders was a costly cashmere shawl.
At sight of the stranger's seductive beauty Sophie felt a
mysterious shudder pass through her frame ; her heart
seemed to stop beating. She began to believe again in
omens.
The stranger came alone, and at an hour too early for
286 THE GREEN BOOK
ladies, as a rule, to be out. Without hesitation she as-
cended the veranda steps, like one who knew the house
well.
As she reached Sophie she raised her hand with the
gesture of one expecting to have it kissed, saying, in a
low voice, as she did so :
" I am Princess Ghedimin !"
The girl's heart beat audibly ; but she had no alterna-
tive, she must kiss the gloved hand.
"You have never seen me before ?" the lady asked.
Sophie shook her head in silent negation.
" Let us go together into your sitting-room, then. Is
there any one with you ?"
"No one."
The lady went on first, and, having reached the room,
took off her bonnet. Her abundant fair hair was dressed
high, a la giraffe.
"Now kiss me, child. I am your mother !"
Sophie did as she was bid.
The Princess looked about her. Embroideries, pretty
dresses, the whole trousseau, lay scattered about in charm-
ing disorder.
" Ah ! Your trousseau. So you are going to be mar-
ried, little one ? Did it never strike you that so s'erious
a step demanded a mother's blessing upon it ?"
The girl ventured to reply, " I had been told that I was
neither to visit nor to write to my mother."
" But you might have let me know through your little
friend Bethsaba, who has been seeing you daily."
" I thought she would have told you."
" No ; not a word. Oh, girls nowadays can keep their
own counsel! Not once did she mention 'his' name to
me ; it was by mere chance that I heard it. Herr Push-
kin came to me yesterday to ask my permission to
A MOTHER'S BLESSING 287
dedicate his new poem, The Spring of Baktshisseraj,
to me."
" To you ?"
" Have you any objection to his doing so ?"
"On the contrary, I am glad."
" And he happened casually to mention that in a week
he was about to lead Sophie Narishkin to the altar. I
was astonished. I fancied you still playing with your
dolls. Who brought this big doll to you ?"
" My father."
" And do you think yourself sensible enough to marry
yet?"
" I do not know if I am sensible ; I only know that I
love him !"
" A categorical answer ! How positive you are that
he will marry you ! And where did you get to know
Pushkin ?"
" During the flood. Oh, I was in such terrible dan-
ger ! Had they not come to save me I should have
been washed away."
" Who came to save you then ?'"
Sophie was surprised at the question.
" Do you not know ? Did not Bethsaba tell you ?"
"Bethsaba? No; she has not spoken to me a word
of you or Pushkin. Sly girl she shall pay for this. So
the same fairy sheltered you who carried off Bethsaba
from my carriage ? That devil in woman's form ! And
Bethsaba has thought well to keep it from me ! And
for whole days and nights you were in that den of in-
iquity ! Now I understand it all ! It is this fiend who
has brought it all about !"
" Mother, do not curse her ! -I owe all my happiness
to her."
" Do you know, then, what is ' happiness ' ?"
288 THE GREEN BOOK
" To be loved."
" And do you know what is its opposite ?"
" That I do not know yet."
"To be betrayed."
" Who would betray me ?"
" Who but he whom you believe loves you ?"
" My Aleko ?"
"Yes, your Aleko, who is the property of so many
besides you. A more fickle man, a greater deceiver,
more cruel, dishonorable, you could not have met with
on earth."
" What reason could he have to deceive me ?"
" Because he hopes, through you, to rise to higher
rank."
" Oh no ! He has refused all titles, rank, and posses-
sions. He is taking me as I am. My trousseau and
this piece of copper a piece of the ship which ran into
the Winter Palace, and which he gave me on the day of
the catastrophe are my whole wealth. He means to
remain a poor man, and to make himself a name which
no dukedom could rival."
" How he can deceive you ! His schemes stop only
at the throne. He is marrying you that in the next rev-
olution he may figure as the Russian ' Prince EgaliteV
Nay, Egalite ! as another Pugatseff ! Why, do you not
know that he is one of the conspirators whose aim is to
oust the Czar from the throne ?"
" But it was my father who brought him here."
" Because he has a honeyed tongue with which he can
deceive the Czar and lull the daughter to sleep."
" Oh, mother, you hate him sorely !"
" And with reason ! Does not this marriage threaten
to ruin my whole life ? Will it not bring the secret of
your birth to light that birth the bane of my early life ?"
A MOTHER'S BLESSING 289
" Mother ! Do you curse the day of my birth ?"
" Not now only, but twice daily when I wake and
when I lie down. You were as a death-sentence to
me, the hour of which was unfixed. I have thought
with shuddering of you. You have been my accomplice,
a living witness to my wrecked honor ; and now my fate
is to be accomplished through you. You announce to
the whole world that you exist look ! here am I !"
"No, mother; I will hide myself. No one shall see
me. No one shall know of me."
Korynthia here pretended that pity and maternal love
had gained the mastery. In sorrowing tones, she ex-
claimed :
" But, my poor child, do you not know that you are con-
demning yourself to a living grave that you are choosing
a life worse than hell? You will be the wife of an ad-
venturer, who is sunk so low in sin, so fettered by vicious
associates, that, even if he desired it, he is powerless to
avoid the consequences. Do you want to follow him to
Siberia?"
" If misfortune assails him I will share it with him."
"And suppose the mad scheme in which he is the
foremost actor succeeds, and his hands are stained with
your father's blood ?"
"Then I will find a path in which to implore Heaven's
pardon for him."
" Blinded creature ! Your self-created ideal prevents
your seeing the man as he is. Do you believe it possi-
ble to confine a heart in a cage that is accustomed to
take free flight, and which, moreover, you have by no
means made captive ? For Pushkin loves you not ! I
tell you, he loves you not ! Be convinced ; he loves you
not!"
Sophie looked in bewilderment at Korynthia. The
19
2QO THE GREEN BOOK
instinct of her woman's heart, added to a nervous fore-
boding, told her the horrible truth. Seizing Korynthia's
hand, she exclaimed :
" You love him /"
" You are right !" hissed Korynthia, with wild vehe-
mence.
Sophie, pressing her hands to her heart, turned white
as death; her eyes closed, her breathing stopped, and
she fell lifeless to the ground.
The Princess went in search of Helenka.
" Go in to your mistress ; she is not well."
And, drawing her cashmere close about her (the morn-
ings are misty by the river) and replacing her bonnet,
she left the villa.
Knowing that her farewell kiss would be of no bene-
fit to the poor swooning girl, she let it alone.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE WILL
THAT day Pushkin felt as heavy-hearted as if he had
not only all the sins of the world, but the national debts
of all Europe, upon his shoulders. Was it one of those
presentiments to which the race of poets, whose stock-
in-trade is nerves, are so sensitive ? Nothing gave him
any pleasure. He went to Zeneida, to formally announce
his approaching marriage to her. She had long been
informed of it, for she possessed a splendid service of
secret police.
Zeneida replied, with cold, stoical irony :
"I still do not believe that the Czar's daughter will
marry you"
THE WILL 291
" Probably not ; for / intend to marry the Czar's
daughter !"
" Is Princess Ghedimin informed of ij: ?"
" I have announced it to her."
"Then nothing will come of it."
" It has nothing in the world to do with her."
" I prophesy it. Else why am I the pythoness ? Does
Prince Ghedimin know of it ?"
"Prince Ghedimin ! Milk tonnerres ! Am I to go to
the Prince, too, to ask for Sophie's hand ? He, at any
rate, is out of it."
" Not on account of your wooing, my friend, but that
the Prince may erase your name from ' the green book. 7
You will doubtless see that the name of the son-in-law
of the Czar can' hardly adorn I will not say blacken
its pages."
" By Jove ! you are right. I had not thought of that."
With heavier heart than he had come, Pushkin left
her.
Zeneida's villa was on the Kreskowsky Island, thus
some distance from Sophie's home, which lay embowered
in orange groves. From afar the light-green roof was
visible, standing out from amidst the pines. Every even-
ing a white flag was to be seen floating from the flag-
staff, hoisted by Sophie herself, as a signal that she was
expecting him. Sometimes she would come down to
the shore to meet him, her white-clad figure greeting him
when he was yet a long way off.
Now neither white flag nor white -clad maiden was
visible. He hastened on impatiently. Usually, as his
boat approached the landing-stage, another, in which sat
Bethsaba, would row away. The Circassian Princess
never awaited Pushkin ; they only exchanged greetings
from a distance. Now he perceived a gondola, painted
292 THE GREEN BOOK
in the Ghedimin family colors, still chained to the land-
ing-stage, the boatmen stretched on benches fast asleep.
Without waiting for his boat to reach the land, Push-
kin sprang ashore and ran towards the house.
On either side of the path Sophie's beloved roses
were blooming ; the ground was covered with their fallen
leaves.
"What can have happened," thought Pushkin, "that
your guardian angel has not been gathering up your
leaves this evening?"
"Go in-doors ; you will soon know the reason," an-
swered the roses.
He found no one upon the veranda. He opened the
familiar tapestried door leading into Sophie's private
apartments. There he learned why the rose leaves had
not been gathered in that day.
Sophie lay upon her bed, white as death. Yesterday's
soft bloom had all fled from her cheeks ; they were al-
most transparent. The anguish she had undergone had
left a transfigured expression upon her face. She was
clasping Bethsaba's hand, who sat by her bedside, their
fingers interlaced, in prayer.
Pushkin advanced cautiously, concealing his alarm.
It is not well to let invalids see that their appearance
inspires anxiety.
" What is this ? Are you not well ?"
" No, Aleko ; I am dying. Do not be startled ; it is
past now. I have wrestled through it. You, too, will
live through it."
" Oh, do not speak so, my love !" stammered Push-
kin, kneeling by the bed, and covering the girl's white
face with kisses. " It is but some slight feeling of ill-
ness that will pass off, as so often before. I will go and
fetch the doctor."
, THE WILL 293
" You will go nowhere ! You will stay, when I tell
you to. Do not oblige me to talk loudly, but obey.
Think, were you to go and alarm Wylie with the news
that I am on my death-bed, he would at once inform the
Czar. The Czar just now is engaged upon a great work
for the good of the country ; he is arming for war. Mill-
ions depend upon his decisions for freedom, and a hap-
pier future in store. For this he needs all his powers.
My father loves me so dearly, and depends so entirely
upon me, that the news of this illness will completely
unman him, and render him unable to carry on the work
he has in hand; the thought of his dying daughter
would deprive him of all energy and power. Is it not
strange? In my lifetime scarce a dozen people have
known of my existence ; in my death shall millions upon
millions curse the day of my birth and my death ! So,
I implore you, do not disquiet the Czar with the news of
my extremity."
With passionate vehemence Pushkin answered :
" What matter to me Hellas and the Russian Con-
stitution, now that you are ill ? I must save you !"
The reason which led Pushkin to this imbittered ex-
clamation was characteristic of the times. Elsewhere,
and at any other era, a lover, under similar circumstances,
would have said, "Very well; I will not go to the Czar's
physician, but to the first skilful doctor whom we can
trust not to publish your illness, and he shall cure you."
But at that period no one thought of going to a Russian
doctor who did not want to hasten his death. Rather
would they go to a quack, or trust to household remedies,
than confide themselves to a St. Petersburg doctor. It
was the surest way to court death. People only sent to
apothecaries for rat-powder; indeed, under Czar Alex-
ander, Russian subjects were forbidden to be apothe-
294 THE GREEN BOOK
caries ; Germans only were allowed. A Russian mis-
trusted his countryman ; he held him capable of giving
a sick man in the interest of his enemies poison in-
stead of remedies. The aristocracy would only be at-
tended by the Czar's and Czarina's physicians. In their
absence, it was no use for any one to be ill.
" I have begged you not to excite me ! In vain would
you bring me all the Galens in the world, with their po-
tions ; I would take none of them. I will drink no
more of that odious physic that tastes of bitter almonds.
I must die ! Do you understand ? I must. My death
is necessary, irremediable. Not because I am ill, but
because I am condemned to die. And it is right that
it should be so !"
Pushkin, unable to solve this riddle, looked inquir-
ingly at Bethsaba, who, at this, made a movement to
go. But Sophie held her back.
"Stay! I want you both. Pushkin, be a man a
brave, strong man ! Are you a child, that you are
trembling so ? Grant me what I ask. I am going to
make my will. Draw the writing-table up to my bed,
light two candles, and place the crucifix between them ;
but first close the shutters and make it night ! Oh, these
terrible summer nights in St. Petersburg, with their end-
less gathering dusk it seems as if night would never
come and day would never cease ! It is such an op-
pression ! Ah, I feel calmer now that it is dark. Now
come and sit down by me and write ; or would you
rather lay the portfolio on my bed and write kneeling ?
So you shall, then. And you, Bethsaba, kneel beside
him. Attend to what I say, and write : * Surrendering
my soul to God, my ashes to earth, I, Sophie Narish-
kin, bequeath, on my death, all my worldly goods to my
only friend the Circassian Princess, Bethsaba Dilari-
THE WILL 295
anoff. The only two things I desire to have buried with
me are the little piece of lead which I have ever worn
upon my heart, and, under my head, the little green
silk cushion filled with rose-leaves, on which I shall rest
peacefully.' What ! cannot you see the letters that you
are writing all across the paper? Pushkin, what a baby
you are ! Write further : ' To my one and only friend
I bequeath the greatest treasure I have in the world
my Aleko Pushkin !' "
At these words Bethsaba would have started up, but
Sophie would not allow it. Twining one arm round her
neck, the other round Pushkin's, she pressed their cheeks
together.
" Am I not to be allowed to dispose of my treasure
as I like in my will ? Do you think, then, that I do not
know how dearly you love him ? Before I confessed to
you my love for him, his praises were forever in your
mouth ; since then you have never once mentioned his
name. Do you think I did not know why you always
hurried away when he came ? Your cheeks used to be
so rosy, and you so merry and full of fun. Now they
are white, and you are so sad and lifeless. Do you
think I have not divined your grief ? You love him, as
I do. Do not conceal it any longer. Tell the truth.
Do not have any secrets longer from a dying girl, who
to-morrow will be a spirit, knowing all that is in your
spirit. Do not wait for my disembodied soul to come
nightly to disquiet you, asking, as a spectre, the answer
to the question you refused me in life. Confess that
you love Aleko !"
As she heard these words Bethsaba's heart felt nigh
to bursting, and with open lips and upturned eyes she
fell unconscious to the ground.
" Lift her up and lay her by me on the bed," said
296 THE GREEN BOOK
Sophie, tranquilly. " Now you have two dead brides to
choose between. Only one will wake to life again, for
she has not been killed. You can have no doubt now
but that she loves you. Leave her unconscious. It is
better that she does not hear what I have to say to you.
But you keep every word in your heart of hearts and do
as I bid you, for you know that girls who die during
their betrothal change into spirits whom it is not good
to anger. So listen. You are not to leave Bethsaba's
side again. I know why I say this. If you let her go
home, she will never look on God's free heaven again ;
she will be confined for life in St. Katherine's Convent."
Now Pushkin began to divine what had happened.
At the mention of St. Katherine's Convent, in Mos-
cow, there flashed across him all the scandalous advent-
ures he had heard the officers of the guards boast of at
their mess dinners, outdoing even the scandals of Paris
life. The convent had a reputation only equalled by the
very worst convents of Montmartre. Young lieutenants
wore the rosaries of the nuns of St. Katherine's as brace-
lets, and only that year a terrible case had happened
which had been hushed up by the authorities. The last
descendant of a noble family had disappeared suddenly
from society in Moscow, and after a month of vain
searching his body was discovered cut to pieces in one
of the wells at St. Katherine's. And thither her god-
mother intends to send Bethsaba, where not only her
happiness for this world, but for the next, is to be lost
forever. And Princess Ghedimin was thoroughly capa-
ble of it.
" So, no indecision, no sentiment," continued Sophie.
"On the day of my death you must marry Bethsaba; if
not, she is lost. True, the world will say, ' The scoun-
drel ! the very day he closed the coffin on his betrothed
THE WILL 297
he could open his heart to another.' But you will Be in
possession of my will, dictated to you by me, and signed
with my shaking hand ; lay it upon your heart, and it will
give you peace. And if your conscience acquits you,
what. matters the judgment of the world? Be daring!
The Patriarch of Solowetshk will be waiting in the
Czar Peter's castle on Petrovsky Island. He is charged
to marry a young girl to an officer in the guards without
previous publication of banns. He does not know them
or their names. Two witnesses will be necessary ; I
have provided for that. Zeneida can be one, Helenka's
husband, old Ihnasco, the other; both are trusty friends.
And while the one gondola, to the voices of the chant-
ing choristers, glides gently along with my flower-be-
decked coffin to the lovely willow-shaded vault on this
bank of the Neva, you in the other gondola will be row-
ing across to the other bank of the Neva to catch your
troika, which will be in waiting. And now, God be with
you !"
Pushkin paced the room in wildest excitement, tear-
ing his dishevelled hair.
Sophie, meanwhile, set about restoring her friend to
consciousness, and, unfastening her bodice, sprinkled
her face with water. Dying, she still thought of others.
At length Bethsaba began to revive ; but as she opened
her eyes she buried her face in the cushions.
" I have arranged everything with Aleko," said the
dying girl, in a low, contented voice. " You have only
to do exactly what he tells you. I leave you my pink
dress and the platinum diadem. You will soon know
when you are to wear them. Why, Pushkin, how can
you be so useless ? Why have you not written it all
down in my will ? Now, do not forget the pink wed-
ding-dress and platinum diadem. Old Helenka, too, I
298 THE GREEN BOOK
bequeath to you ; she has always been a good, faithful
nurse to me. You may trust her through thick and thin.
Now, Aleko, give Bethsaba pen and paper. She must
write to tell the Princess not to expect her, as she is not
coming back at present. Now write, dear one : * Your
Highness, my honored godmother, Sophie is ill and in
sore need of my care. I must stay here until the Lord
take pity upon her. Your godchild, Bethsaba.' Now,
dear Aleko, send off this note to the Princess, that she
may not be uneasy. And as soon as you are ready give
me my will, that I may sign it."
Sophie read it through.
"How many blots there are!" she whispered, and a
smile lit up her death-like face. Those blots were Push-
kin's tears. Sophie made merry over them, and wanted
Aleko and Bethsaba to join in her merriment. She
wrote her name in large, clear handwriting, and gave
back the pen to Pushkin. Then she put both her arms
round his neck and drew him down to her.
"To-day you still belong to me ! Let me look once
more into those eyes which have been so long a sweet
home to me ! Oh, it was a Paradise on earth ! I thank
you that you let me know such exquisite happiness ! I
thank you for the truth and tender love with which you
blessed me !"
And she kissed him countless times. Then, letting her
arms sink, she motioned him away. It was the last caress.
" Aleko ! Bethsaba ! I want to see you embrace
each other now at once, while I am still alive and can
see it ! If you love me, if you would have me know you
to be sincere, if you place any value on my blessing,
embrace each other."
And so across the dying girl's bed they laid their arms
on each other's shoulders.
NOT ONLY A BULLET STRIKES HOME 299
" Ah, that is right ! And now, kiss each other on
the lips. Not like that ; you have hardly touched each
other; it was such a cold kiss. Give her a real
one !"
And, laying her hands on the bowed heads, she drew
them together, until their lips united in a kiss, her hands
resting the while as if in the act of blessing. Then,
raising her transfigured face to heaven, and, folding her
hands, she breathed, scarce audibly :
" Mother, I have saved you from sin !"
CHAPTER XXXII
NOT ONLY A BULLET STRIKES HOME
THE Czar was holding an extraordinary review.
The usual parades took place on the 2ist of May, the
day of the patron saint, Nicholas, and on the 2oth of
September ; but this time it was a special review of the
household troops alone. They are distinct from the
rest of the army ; each regiment has a different uniform.
The Life Guards wear white uniforms, with shining
gilt breastplates; the Cuirassiers, light-blue tunics, with
white, plated cuirass; the uniform of the Jerusalem Reg-
iment is crimson-red, with gilt breastplate. The ranks,
from officer down to corporal, are all knights of the
Order of St. John, and even the common soldiers are
all of the nobility.
And every regiment boasts its past, its history, which
passes on to the successors as a tradition, and keeps up
the glory of its name.
The regiment of St. John of Jerusalem was so cut to
300 THE GREEN BOOK
pieces in two battles that in one battalion only eighteen
men were left.
The Preobrazsenski Regiment has the proud distinc-
tion of having deposed Czar Ivan and set Elisabeth in
his place. Every man in the regiment received his
patent of nobility.
The Ismailoffski Regiment bears on its colors the
trophies of seven conclusive battles, At Borodino half
the troops remained on the battle-field, and not a single
man came home without a wound. These regiments
compose the aristocracy of the Life Guards. The rest
of the household troops, too, are characterized by a brill-
iant variety of dress. Hussars in uniforms of the most
varied colors, cuirassiers, mounted grenadiers, pontoniers,
Cossacks, Asiatic hordes with their fantastic arms, Kir-
gisians, Kalmucks with their slender spears, their arrow-
laden quivers on their backs ; Circassians in their scale-
armor, with their pointed helmets; and then the long row
of cannon, the ammunition wagons (painted green), the
pontoons, the flotilla on wheels and the whole mass
drawn up on a boundless plain in squares, in geometri-
cal lines, and advancing, charging, halting motionless as
a wall, at the word of command, like a machine.
May he not rightly deem himself a god who with a
gesture can set all this in motion or make it stand ?
And they only need a second gesture to charge and dye
the ground beneath them with their blood.
When the household troops advance from St. Peters-
burg it means that the army is on a war footing and is
taking the field. Then let every man concerned sum-
mon all his strength.
In the centre of the Field of Mars are pitched the
sumptuous tents of the Czar, the foreign ambassadors,
and the members of the government ; but the Czar him-
NOT ONLY A BULLET STRIKES HOME 301
self rides at the head of his suite, and passes the as-
sembled troops in review. As he thus rides past the
separate regiments they salute him with welcoming
stanzas, in time like the chorus of a giant theatre,
with rifle, sword, and lance held rigid at present arms.
The Czar's face beams like a day in summer ; every
one sees again in him the hero of Leipsic. The in-
spiration of the army has communicated itself to him
too.
And in the ranks of these men presenting at the word
of command are all those who have been conspiring
against him. In the sabretache of the officers is to be
found the Catechism of the Free Man.
But the single word " Forward !" suffices to change the
whole temper of these men ; the conspiring regiments
will charge down on the foe with shouts of " Long live
the Czar !" When he shows them the battle-field they
forget all their complaints and grievances forget that
they are seeking to kill him and rush into the fight to
give up their lives for him.
So it is with the Russian people. Their striving after
freedom is silenced when there is hope of war. The
private, freely shedding his blood on foreign soil, be-
lieves that therewith he will fertilize his native meadows.
The priests have indoctrinated him with the belief that
he who falls in a strange land to the enemy's bayonet
will live again in his own country, where he will find
parents, wife, and children once more; and, if he was a
serf before, will rise again a free man.
After the review of the troops the Czar himself takes
the command, and a series of brilliant manoeuvres be-
gins, thought out by himself. According to the then
science of war, they were intended to be a masterpiece
of the system of attack in close order. His aides-de-
302 THE GREEN BOOK
camp are dashing from battalion to battalion with orders,
their spirited horses flying off in all directions. The or-
ders are given by the Czar himself, who watches their
fulfilment through a field-glass. Suddenly an adjutant
dashes up to him.
" Sire !"
" What is it ? Make short work of it !"
The enemy's cannon are already thundering upon
the attacking column.
" Sire," says the officer, " Duchess Sophie Narishkin
has just delivered up her noble soul to Eternity."
The Czar instinctively put his hand to his heart. It
was there that he was struck ! And yet the cannon were
only firing blank ammunition.
The sword he was wielding sank in one hand the
Czar covered his face with the other.
" // is the punishment for my faults /" he uttered, in a
faltering voice.
What a change had come over the brilliant hero the
semi-god ! In his place sat a bowed figure ; a man bowed
down to the earth by fate.
However deafening the hurrahs however much the
earth may vibrate under the tramp of warlike horses and
horsemen their leader's soul is fettered by the words
" Sophie is dead."
Miloradovics, the general in command, sent to ask in-
structions from the Imperial Commander-in-Chief for
the next movement.
" Call them back !" was the answer. " Send the
troops back to barracks. The review is over."
And, turning his horse, the Czar rode back to his tent
with bowed head. They who saw him return hardly
recognized his white face. The generals of division had
great work to disentangle their troops and get them into
THE RENDEZVOUS 303
position again. A murmuring arose among the men, as
though a battle had been lost.
The Czar, not even awaiting the march past of the
regiments, who were wont to defile past him with pipe
and drum, left the whole command to the Grand Duke,
and, throwing himself into his troika, drove back to the
Winter Palace.
There he hastened to his study. On it were spread
important, weighty documents, containing epoch-making
decisions for people and nations, only awaiting his sig-
nature. The Czar's eyes rested sadly upon them, read-
ing in them, not what was written upon them in ordi-
nary characters, but the Palimpsest with which fate ever
crosses the carefully thought-out plans of mankind.
Then, seizing all the documents painstaking labors
of many a night he made them into a roll, and, throwing
them on to the fire, watched them, a prey to the flames.
They were all to have been Sophie Narishkin's dowry.
Soon they were a heap of ashes.
Then, sitting down, he wrote a letter. It contained
but two words " Come back."
The envelope was addressed to Araktseieff.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE RENDEZVOUS
THERE is something marvellous in the summer nights
of the extreme North. Foreigners find it harder to ac-
custom themselves to them than they do to the long
winter nights with their cruel severity. The evening
glow lasts till midnight, and then begins the dawn. It
seems endless until the first stars appear in the still,
304 THE GREEN BOOK
clear sky, and under them the brilliant planets Venus and
Jupiter, burning in the firmament like diamonds on the
surface of a golden lake. The pale moon describes its
short orbit, a superfluous luminary; and on the Feast
of Masinka the half-hour of actual night is impatiently
awaited, in order to let off fireworks on the forty islands
of the Neva. (For by daylight it is no use to send up
rockets !) Street lamps are not lit in St. Petersburg at
all during this month. Nor in the apartments of Koryn-
thia's villa are lights needed on the evening of this 2oth
of June. The sky diffuses light enough until n P.M.,
and a little twilight will not seriously disturb those of
whom we are about to speak.
Korynthia, in some agitation, has strayed who can
tell how often in the course of that evening? on to her
veranda, and let her eyes rove over the surface of the
mighty river below. It, too, is golden in the evening
light, and, like the Russian pictures of saints, on a golden
ground is reflected in its sheen the capital, with its rows
of palaces, the dome and columns of St. Isaac's, the florid
architecture of the Exchange, the bridge of Holy Trinity,
the scattered islands from amid whose wooded heights
the varied forms and shapes of country-houses peep, with
roofs red, b 
