Chapter IV: Part 4

As we said, a panic-terror pervaded the halls, and like an evil-announcing night-spectre passed over the heads of the stiffened, lifeless crowd the dismal rumor--“The regent and the princess are at variance; the regent is speaking to her with vehemence, and the princess weeps!”

This certainly was a terrible announcement. But if the regent was angry, it must be because she knew of the intrigues and machinations of the princess, and knowing them she could counteract and nullify them; consequently the plans of the princess were upset, Anna Leopoldowna would remain ruler, and her son Ivan the Czar of all the Russias.

Now the touch, the vicinity of Elizabeth’s friends became an evil-breathing pest, a death-bringing terror; they anxiously avoided the vicinity of Lestocq, they crowded back from Woronzow and Razumovsky, whom they had before sought with every demonstration of friendliness; they even avoided looking at the French ambassador; for, if the regent knew all, she must know of the intimate relations of Lestocq with the Marquis de la Chetardie, and he was therefore doomed like the other three.

And moreover, this pernicious rumor had not lied; the two princesses were at this moment no longer so tender and friendly disposed as shortly before.

They had long wandered through the halls, confidingly chatting and smiling, and Anna, leaning upon Elizabeth’s arm--Anna who this day saw every thing _couleur de rose_--felt a sort of disquiet that people should suspect her who was walking by her side with such innocent candor and unconstraint, seeming not to have the least presentiment of the dark cloud gathering over her head.

“She is inconsiderate,” thought the regent; “she allows herself to be carried away by her temperament, and behind her inclination and her weakness for handsome grenadiers and soldiers, her enemies seek to discover an insidious and well-considered conspiracy; this is cruel and unjust! This good Elizabeth must be warned, that she may become more cautious, and give her numerous enemies no occasion for suspecting her. Poor innocent child, so gay and ingenuous, she plays with roses under which serpents lie concealed! It is my duty to warn her, and I will.”

Wholly penetrated with this noble and generous resolution, the regent drew her cousin Elizabeth into the little boudoir which lay at the end of the hall, offering a convenient resting-place for a confidential conversation.

But at this moment Anna’s eyes fell upon the lace mantelet of the princess, and quite involuntarily came to her mind the warning words of Ostermann, who had said to her: “The French ambassador, by command of his government, provides the princess not only with money, but also with the newest modes and most costly stuffs.” This lace mantelet could surely only come from Paris; nothing similar to it had been seen in St. Petersburg; it certainly required especial sources and especial means for the procurement of such a rare and magnificent exemplar.

A cloud drew over the regent’s brow, and in a rather sharp and cutting tone she said; “One question, princess! How came you by this admirable lace veil, the like of which I have not seen here in St. Petersburg?”

While putting this question, the regent’s eyes were fixed with a piercing, interrogating expression upon the face of the princess: she wished to observe the slightest shrinking, the least movement of her features.

But Elizabeth was prepared for the question; she had already considered her answer with the marquis and Lestocq. Her features therefore betrayed not the least disturbance or disquiet; raising her bright and childlike eyes, she said, with an unconstrained smile: “You wonder, do you not, how I came by this costly ornament? Ah, I have for the last eight days rejoiced in the expectation of surprising you to-day with the sight of it!”

“But you have not yet told me whence you have these costly laces?” asked the regent in a sharper tone.

“It is a wager I have won of the good Marquis de la Chetardie,” said Elizabeth, without embarrassment, “and your highness must confess that this French ambassador has paid his wager with much taste.”

The regent had constantly become more serious and gloomy. A dark, fatal suspicion for a moment overclouded her soul, and in her usually unsuspicious mind arose the questions: “What if Ostermann was right, if Elizabeth is really conspiring, and the French ambassador is her confederate?”

“And what, if one may ask, was the subject of the wager?” she asked, with the tone of an inquisitor.

“Ah, this good marquis,” said the princess, laughing, “had never yet experienced the rigor of a Russian winter, and he would not believe that our Neva with its rushing streams and rapid current would in winter be changed into a very commodious highway. I wagered that I would convince him of the fact, and be the first to cross it on the ice; he would not believe me, and declared that I should lack the courage. Well, of course I did it, and won my wager!”

The regent had not turned her eyes from the princess while she was thus speaking. This serene calmness, this unembarrassed childishness, completely disarmed her. The dark suspicion vanished from her mind; Anna breathed freer, and laid her hand upon her heart as if she would restrain its violent beating. The letter of Lynar slightly rustled under her hand.

A ray of sunshine became visible in Anna’s face; she thought of her beloved; she felt his presence, and immediately all the vapors of mistrust were scattered--Anna feared no more, she suspected no more, she again became cheerful and happy--for she thought of her distant lover, his affectionate words rested upon her bosom--how, therefore, could she feel anger?

She only now recollected that she had intended to warn Elizabeth. She therefore threw her arms around the neck of the princess, and, sitting with her upon the divan, said: “Do you know, Elizabeth, that you have many enemies at my court, and that they would excite my suspicions against you?”

“Ah, I may well believe they would be glad to do so, but they cannot,” said Elizabeth, laughing; “I am a foolish, trifling woman, who, unfortunately for them, do nothing to my enemies that can render me suspected, as, in reality, I do nothing at all. I am indolent, Anna, very indolent; you ought to have raised me better, my dear lady regent!”

And with an amiable roguishness Elizabeth kissed the tips of Anna’s fingers.

“No, no, be serious for once,” said Anna; “laugh not, Elizabeth, but listen to me!”

And she related to the listening princess how people came from all sides to warn her; that she was told of secret meetings which Lestocq, in Elizabeth’s name, held with the French ambassador, and that the object of these meetings was the removal of the regent and her son, and the elevation of Elizabeth to the imperial throne.

Elizabeth remained perfectly cheerful, perfectly unembarrassed, and even laughingly exclaimed--“What a silly story!”

“I believe nothing of it,” said Anna, “but at last my ministers will compel me to imprison Lestocq and bring him to trial, in order to get the truth out of him.”

“Ah, they will torture him, and yet he is innocent!” cried Elizabeth, bursting into tears. And, clasping the regent’s neck, she anxiously exclaimed: “Ah, Anna, dear Anna, save me from my enemies! Let them not steal away my friends and ruin me! They would also torture me and send me to Siberia; Anna, my friend, my sovereign, save me! You alone can do it, for you know me, and know that I am innocent! The idea that I should conspire against you, against you whom I love, and to whom, upon the sacred books of our religion, I have sworn eternal fidelity and devotion! Anna, Anna, I swear to you by the soul of my father, I am innocent, as also is my friend. Lestocq has never passed the threshold of the French ambassador’s hotel! Oh, dear, dear Anna, have mercy on me, and do not permit them to torture me and wrench my poor members!”

With a loud cry of anguish, with streaming tears, pale and trembling, Elizabeth sank down at the regent’s feet.

It was this cry of anguish that rang through the hall, and spread everywhere astonishment and consternation. And this shrieking, and weeping, and trembling, was no mask, but truth. Elizabeth was frightened, she wept and trembled from fear, but she had sufficient presence of mind not to betray herself in words. It was fear even that gave her that presence of mind and enabled her to play her part in a manner so masterly that the regent was completely deceived. Taking the princess in her arms, she pressed her to her bosom, at the same time endeavoring to reassure and console her with tender and affectionate words, with reiterated promises of her protection and her love.

But it was a long time before the trembling and weeping princess could be tranquillized--before she could be made to believe Anna’s asseverations that she had always loved and never mistrusted her.

“What most deeply saddens me,” said Elizabeth, with feeling, “is the idea that you, my Anna, could believe these calumnies, and suppose me capable of such black treason. Ah, I should be as bad as Judas Iscariot could I betray my noble and generous mistress.”

Tears of emotion stood in Anna’s eyes. She impressed a tender kiss upon Elizabeth’s lips, and with her own hand wiped the tears from the cheeks of the princess.

“Weep no more, Elizabeth,” she tenderly said--“nay, I beg of you, weep no more. It is indeed all right and good between us, and no cloud shall disturb our love or our mutual confidence. Come, let us smile and be cheerful again, that this listening and curious court may know nothing of your tears. They would make a prodigious affair of it, and we will not give them occasion to say we have been at variance.”

“No, they shall all see that I love, that I adore you,” said Elizabeth, covering Anna’s hand with kisses.

“They shall see that we love each other,” said Anna, taking the arm of the princess. “Be of good cheer, my friend, and take my imperial word for it that I, whatever people may say of you, will believe no one but yourself; that I will truly inform you of all calumnies, and give you an opportunity to disarm your enemies and defend yourself. Now come, and let us make another tour through the halls.”

Arm in arm the two princesses returned to the nearest hall. This was empty, no one daring to remain there lest they might incur the blame of having overheard and understood some word of the princesses, and thus acquired a knowledge of their private conversation. People had therefore withdrawn to the more distant rooms, where they still preserved a breathless silence.

Suddenly the two princesses, arm in arm, again appeared in the halls, pleasantly conversing, and instantly the scene was again changed, as if by the stroke of a magic wand. The chilling silence melted into an agreeable smile, and all recovered their breaths and former joviality.

All was again sunshine and pleasure, for the princesses were again there, and the princesses smiled--must they not laugh and be beside themselves with joy?

Elizabeth’s tender glances sought her friend, the handsome Alexis Razumovsky. Suddenly her brow as darkened and her cheeks paled, for she saw him and saw that his eyes did not seek hers!

He stood leaning against a pillar, his eyes fixed upon a lady who had just then entered the hall, and whose wonderful beauty had everywhere called forth a murmur of astonishment and admiration. This lady was the Countess Lapuschkin, the wife of the commissary-general of marine, from whose family came the first wife of Czar Peter the Great, the beautiful Eudoxia Lapuschkin.

Eleonore Lapuschkin was more beautiful than Eudoxia. An infinite magic of youth and loveliness, of purity and energy, was shed over her regular features. She had the traits of a Hebe, and the form of a Juno. When she smiled and displayed her dazzlingly white teeth, she was irresistibly charming. When, in a serious mood, she raised her large dark eyes, full of nobleness and spirit, then might people fall at her feet with adoration. Countess Lapuschkin had often been compared and equalled to the Princess Elizabeth, and yet nothing could be more dissimilar or incomparable than these two beauties. Elizabeth’s was wholly earthly, voluptuous, glowing with youth and love, but Eleonore’s was chaste and sublime, pure and maidenly. Elizabeth allured to love, Eleonore to adoration.

The princess had long hated the young Countess Eleonore Lapuschkin, and considered her as a rival; but that this rival should now gain an interest in the heart of her favorite, that filled Elizabeth’s soul with anger and agitation, that caused her eyes to flash and her blood to boil.

Staringly as Alexis Razumovsky’s eyes were fixed upon the countess, she, unconscious of this double observation, stood cheerful and unembarrassed in the circle of her admiring friends and adorers.

Anna Leopoldowna followed the glance of the princess, and, observing the beautiful Lapuschkin, said, without thinking of Elizabeth’s very susceptible vanity:

“Leonore Lapuschkin is an admirably beautiful woman, is she not? I never saw a handsomer one. To look at her is like a morning dream; her appearance diffuses light and splendor. Do you not find it so, Elizabeth?”

“Oh, yes, I find it so,” said Elizabeth, with a constrained smile. “She is the handsomest woman in your realm.”

“Yourself excepted, Elizabeth,” kindly subjoined the regent.

“Oh, no, she is handsomer than I!” murmured Elizabeth.

Poor Leonore! In this moment hath the princess pronounced your sentence of condemnation, and in her heart subscribed the stern order for your execution.

A longer view of this triumph of the countess became insufferable; alleging a sudden attack of illness, she immediately took leave of the regent, and ordered her carriage.

Tears of anger and love stood in her eyes as Razumovsky approached to aid her in entering it. Hurling away his hand, she entered the carriage without assistance.

“And may I not accompany you in the carriage as usual?” asked Alexis, with tenderness in his tone.

“No,” she curtly said, “go back into the hall, and again admire the handsomest woman in the empire!”

Then, jealousy getting the better of anger, she beckoned to Alexis, who was about departing in sadness, and commanded him to enter the carriage without delay.

As soon as the carriage door was closed, with an angry movement she seized both of Razumovsky’s hands.

“Look at me,” said she--“look me directly in the eye, and then tell me, is Eleonore Lapuschkin handsomer than I?”

THE PENCIL-SKETCH

It was the day after the court ball. Princess Elizabeth was in her dressing-room, and occupied in enveloping herself in a very charming and seductive _neglige_. She was to-day in very good humor, very happy and free from care, for Alexis Razumovsky had, with the most solemn asserverations, assured her of his truth and devotion, and Elizabeth had been soothed and reconciled by his glowing language. It was for him that she wished to appear especially attractive to-day, that Alexis, by the sight of her, might be made utterly to forget the Countess Eleonore Lapuschkin. In these coquettish efforts of her vanity she had utterly forgotten all the plans and projects of her friends and adherents; she thought no more of becoming empress, but she would be the queen of beauty, and in that realm she would reign alone with an absolute sway.

A servant announced Lestocq.

A cloud of displeasure lowered on the brow of the princess. Startled from her sweet dreams by this name, she now for the first time recollected the fatal conversation she had had on the previous evening with the regent. In her love and jealousy she had totally forgotten the occurrence, but now that she was reminded of it, she felt her head throb with anxiety and terror.

Dismissing her attendants with an imperious nod, she hastened to meet the entering physician.

“Lestocq,” said she, “it is well you have come at this moment, else, perhaps, I might have forgotten to say to you that it is all over with the conjuration spun and woven by you and the French marquis. We must give it up, for the affair is more dangerous than you think it, and I may say that you have reason to be thankful to me for having, by my foresight and intrepidity, saved you from the torture, and a possible transportation to Siberia. Ah, it is very cold in Siberia, my dear Lestocq, and you will do well silently and discreetly to build a warm nest here, instead of inventing ambitious projects dangerous to all of us.”

“And whence do you foresee danger, princess?” asked Lestocq.

“The regent knows all! She knows our plans and combinations. In a word, she knows that we conspire, and that you are the principal agent in the conspiracy.”

“Then I am lost!” sighed Lestocq, gliding down upon a chair.

“No, not quite,” said Elizabeth, with a smile, “for I have saved you. Ah, I should never have believed that the playing of comedy was so easy, but I tell you I have played one in a masterly manner. Fear was my teacher; it taught me to appear so innocent, to implore so affectingly, that Anna herself was touched. Ah, and I wept whole streams of tears, I tell you. That quite disarmed the regent. But you must bear the blame if my eyes to-day are yet red with weeping, and not so brilliant as usual.”

And Princess Elizabeth ran to the toilet-table to examine critically her face in the glass.

“Yes, indeed,” she cried, with a sort of terror, “it is as I feared. My eyes are quite dull. Lestocq, you must give me a means, a quick and sure means, to restore their brightness.”

Thus speaking, Elizabeth looked constantly in the glass, full of care and anxiety about her eyes.

“I shall appear less beautiful to him to-day,” she murmured; “he will, in thought, compare me with Eleonore Lapuschkin, and find her handsomer than I. Lestocq, Lestocq!” she then called aloud, impatiently stamping with her little foot, “I tell you that you must immediately prescribe a remedy that will restore the brilliancy of my eyes.”

“Princess,” said Lestocq, with solemnity, “I beseech you for a moment to forget your incomparable beauty and the unequalled brilliancy of your eyes. Be not only a woman, but be, as you can, the great czar’s great daughter. Princess, the question here is not only of the diminished brilliancy of your eyes, but of a real danger with which you are threatened. Be merciful, be gracious, and relate to me the exact words of your yesterday’s conversation with the regent.”

The princess looked up from her mirror, and turned her head toward Lestocq.

“Ah, I forgot,” she carelessly said, “you are not merely my physician, but also a revolutionist, and that is of much greater importance to you.”

“The question is of your head, princess, and as a true physician I would help you to preserve it. Therefore, dearest princess, I beseech you, repeat to me that conversation with the regent.”

“Will you then immediately give me a recipe for my eyes?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Well, listen, then.”

And the princess repeated, word for word, to the breathless Lestocq, her conversation with Anna Leopoldowna. Lestocq listened to her with most intense interest, taking a piece of paper from the table and mechanically writing some unmeaning lines upon it with an appearance of heedlessness. Perhaps it was this mechanical occupation that enabled him to remain so calm and circumspect. During the narration of the princess his features again assumed their expression of firmness and determination; his eyes again flashed, and around his mouth played a saucy, scornful smile, such as was usually seen there when, conscious of his superiority, he had formed a bold resolution.

“This good regent has executed a stroke of policy for which Ostermann will never forgive her,” said he, after the princess had finished her narration. “She should have kept silence and appeared unconstrained--then _we_ should have been lost; but now it is _she_.”

“No,” exclaimed the princess, with generous emotion, “the regent has chosen precisely the best means for disarming us! She has manifested a noble confidence in me, she has discredited the whisperings of her minister and counsellors, and instead of destroying me, as she should have done, she has warned me with the kindness and affection of a sister. I shall never forget that, Lestocq; I shall ever be grateful for that! Henceforth the Regent or Empress Anna Leopoldowna shall have no truer or more obedient subject than I, the Princess Elizabeth!”

“By this you would not say, princess--”

“By this I mean to say,” interposed Elizabeth, “that this conspiracy is brought to a bloodless conclusion, and that, from this hour, there is but one woman in this great Russian realm who has any claim to the title of empress, and that woman is the Regent Anna Leopoldowna!”

“You will therefore renounce your sacred and well-grounded claims to the imperial throne?” asked Lestocq, continuing his scribbling.

“Yes, that will I,” responded Elizabeth. “I will no longer be plagued with your plans and machinations--I will have repose. In the interior of my palace I will be empress; there will I establish a realm, a realm of peace and enjoyable happiness; there will I erect the temple of love, and consecrate myself as its priestess! No, speak no more of revolutions and conspiracies. I am not made to sit upon a throne as the feared and thundering goddess of cowardly slaves, causing millions to tremble at every word and glance! I will not be empress, not the bugbear of a quaking, kneeling people, I will be a woman, who has nothing to do with the business and drudgery of men; I will not be plagued with labor and care, but will enjoy and rejoice in my existence!”

“For that you will be allowed no time!” said Lestocq, with solemnity. “When you give up your plans and renounce your rights, then, princess, it will be all over with the days of enjoyment and happiness. It will then no longer be permitted you to convert your palace into a temple of pleasure, and thenceforth you will be known only as the priestess of misfortune and misery!”

“You have again your fever-dreams,” said Elizabeth, smiling. “Come, I will awaken you! I have told you my story; it is now for you to give me a recipe for my inflamed eyes.”

“Here it is,” earnestly answered Lestocq, handing to the princess the paper upon which he had been scribbling.

Elizabeth took it and at first regarded it with smiling curiosity; but her features gradually assumed a more serious and even terrified expression, and the roses faded from her cheeks.

“You call this a recipe for eyes reddened with weeping,” said she, with a shudder, “and yet it presents two pictures which make my hair bristle with terror, and might cause one to weep himself blind!”

“They represent our future!” said Lestocq, with decision. “You see that man bound upon the wheel--that is myself! Now look at the second. This young woman who is wringing her hands, and whose head one of these nuns is shearing, while the other is endeavoring, in spite of her struggling resistance, to envelope her in that black veil;--that is you, princess. For you the cloister, for me the wheel! That will be our future, Princess Elizabeth, if you now hesitate in your forward march in the path upon which you have once entered.

“And to persevere in this conspiracy is to give ourselves up to certain destruction, for doubt not they will be able to convict us. Among Grunstein’s enlisted friends there are drunkards enough who would betray you for a flask of brandy! Princess Elizabeth, would you be a nun or an empress? Choose between these two destinations. There is no middle course.”

“Then I would be an empress!” said Elizabeth, with flashing eyes, trembling with anxiety and excitement, and still examining the two drawings. “Ah, you are an accomplished artist, Lestocq, you have designed this picture with a horrible truth of resemblance. How I stand there! how I wring my hands, the pale lips opened for a cry of terror, and yet silenced by a view of those dreadful shears before whose deadly operations my hair falls to the earth, and that veil entombs me while yet living!”

And casting away the drawings, the princess trod them under foot, declaring in a loud and imperious tone: “These drawings are false, Lestocq, and that will I prove to you--I, the Empress Elizabeth!”

“All hail, my empress!” cried Lestocq, throwing himself at her feet and kissing the hem of her robe; “blessings upon you, for you have now rescued me from the hands of the executioner! You have saved my life, in return for which I will this day place an imperial crown upon your heavenly brows.”

“This day?” asked Elizabeth, with a shudder.

“Yes, it must be done this very night! We must improve the moment, for only the moment is ours. Every hour of delay but brings us nearer to our destruction. Yet one night of hesitation, and they will already have rendered our success impossible. Ah, the Regent Anna has sworn to believe only you, and never to doubt you, and yet she has ordered three battalions of the guards to march early in the morning to join the army in Viborg. Our friends and confidants are in these three battalions. Judge, then, how very much Anna Leopoldowna confides in you!”

“Ah, if it be really so,” said Elizabeth, “then can I no longer have any regard for her. Anna will remove my friends from here, and that is a betrayal of the friendship she has sworn for me. I have therefore no further obligations toward her! I am free to act as I think best. Lestocq, I will be no nun, but an empress! You now have my word, and are at liberty to make all necessary arrangements. If it must be done, let it be done quickly and unhesitatingly. I have yet to-day the courage to dare any enormity, therefore let us utilize this day!”

“Expect me to-night at twelve o’clock!” said Lestocq, rising; “I will then be here to bring you the imperial crown.”

This firm confidence made Elizabeth tremble again. Until now all had seemed like a dream, a play of the imagination; but when she read in Lestocq’s bold and resolved features that it was a reality, she shook with terror, and an anxious fear overpowered her soul.

“And if it miscarry?” said she, thoughtfully.

“It will not and cannot miscarry!” responded Lestocq. “The right is on your side, and God will watch over the daughter of the great czar.”

“And then, when I am really empress,” said Elizabeth, thoughtfully, to herself, “what then? There is no happiness in it! They will give me another title, they will place a crown upon my head, and bind me to a throne. I shall no longer be free to act according to my will, to live as I would. Thousands of spies will lurk around me. Thousands of eyes will follow my steps, thousands of ears will listen for my every word, in order to interpret and attach a secret meaning to it! They will call me an empress, but I shall be a slave bound with golden fetters, upon whose head sits a golden crown of thorns. And this toil and weariness! These tiresome sittings of the ministers, this law-making and the signing of orders and commands! How horrible!--Lestocq,” suddenly cried the princess aloud, “if I must always labor, and make laws, and subscribe my name, and command and govern, then I will be no empress, no, never!”

“You shall be empress only to enjoy life in its highest splendor. We, your servants and slaves, we will work and govern for you!” said Lestocq.

“Swear that to me! Swear to me that I shall not be constrained to labor, swear that you will govern for me, that I may devote my time to the enjoyment of life!”

“I swear it to you by all that is most sacred to me.”

“Well, then, I will be your empress!” said Elizabeth, satisfied.

At this moment a secret door opened and gave admission to Alexis Razumovsky.

By his entrance Elizabeth was reminded of her inflamed eyes, and of the fair Countess Eleanore Lapuschkin.

She gave Alexis a searching, scrutinizing glance, and it seemed to her that he appeared less tender and ardent than usual.

“Oh,” she proudly said, motioning her favorite to approach her and lightly kissing him upon the forehead, “oh, I will yet compel you to adore me. When an imperial crown encircles my brow, then will you be obliged to confess that I am the fairest of women! Alexis, on this night shall I become an empress!”

With a cry of joy Alexis sank to her feet.

“Hail to my adored empress!” he exclaimed, with enthusiasm. “Hail Elizabeth, the fairest of all women!”

“With the exception of the beautiful Countess Lapuschkin!” said Elizabeth, with a bitter smile--“ah, when I am empress, I shall at least have the power to render that woman harmless, and to annihilate her!--You turn pale, Alexis,” she continued with more vehemence--“your hand trembles in mine! You must therefore love her very much, this exalted queen of godlike beauty? Ah, I shall know how to punish her for it!”

“Princess!” reproachfully exclaimed Alexis--“Elizabeth, you, my august and gentle empress, you will not sacrifice an innocent woman to a momentary jealous vagary!”

“Ah, he ventures to intercede for her!” cried Elizabeth, with a hoarse laugh, and, turning to Lestocq, she continued, with anger-flashing eyes: “Lestocq, I have yet a condition to make before consenting to become an empress.”

“Name your condition, princess, and if it be within the compass of human power it shall be fulfilled.”

Casting an angry glance at Razumovsky, Elizabeth said, with a sinister smile:

“Swear to me, by all you hold most sacred, to find some fault in this Countess Lapuschkin which shall give me the right to condemn her to death!”

“I swear it by all I hold most sacred,” solemnly responded Lestocq.

“And you will do well in that!” exclaimed Alexis. “For when a crime rests upon her, and she, only with a word or look, offends against my fair and noble empress, she will deserve such condemnation.”

“You will, then, defend her no longer?” asked the somewhat appeased princess, bending down to her kneeling lover.

“What is Countess Lapuschkin to me?” tenderly responded Alexis. “For me there is but one woman, one empress, and one beauty, and that is Elizabeth!”

The princess smiled with satisfaction. “Lestocq,” said she, “this time I keep my word. I am ready to dare all, in order to place the imperial crown upon my head. I must and will be empress, that I may have the power to reward you all, and to raise you, my Alexis, to me!”

And drawing the handsome Alexis up to herself, she gave him her hand to kiss.

“I now go to make all necessary preparations,” said Lestocq. “At midnight I will come for you. Be ready at that time, Elizabeth!”

“I will then be ready!” said Princess Elizabeth, nodding a farewell to Lestocq.

“At midnight!” she then thoughtfully continued. “Well, we have twelve hours until then, which will suffice for the invention of a suitable toilet. Alexis, tell me what sort of dress I shall wear. What color best becomes me and in what shall I please the soldiers? The toilet, my Alexis, is often decisive in such cases; an unsuitable costume might cause me to displease the conspirators, and lead them to give up the enterprise. You must aid me, Alexis, in choosing a costume. Come, let us repair to the wardrobe, and call my women. I will try on all my dresses, one after the other; then you shall decide which is most becoming, and that will we choose.”

The princess and her lover betook themselves to the wardrobe, and called her women to assist in selecting a suitable revolution-toilet.

THE REVOLUTION

Night had come. The lights in palaces and houses were gradually extinguished. St. Petersburg began to sleep, or at least to give itself the appearance of sleeping. The regent, Anna Leopoldowna, also, had already dismissed her household and withdrawn into her private apartments.

It was a fine starlight night. Anna leaned upon the window-frame, thoughtfully and dreamily glancing up at the heavens. Her eyes gradually filled with tears, which slowly rolled down her cheeks and fell upon her hands. She was startled by the falling of these warm, glowing drops. She was thinking of Lynar, of the distant, warmly-desired one, to whom she would gladly have devoted her whole existence, but to whom she could belong only through falsehood. She thought it would be nobler and greater to renounce him, that her love might be consecrated by her abnegation, while actually devoting her life to the duties enjoined by the laws and the Church. But these thoughts filled her bosom with a nameless sorrow, and it was involuntarily that she wept.

“No,” she murmured low, “I cannot make this sacrifice; I cannot make an offering of my love to my virtue; for this bugbear of a compulsory marriage I cannot give up a love which God Himself has inspired in my heart. Then let it be so! Let the world judge and the priests condemn me. I will not sacrifice my love to a prejudice. I know that this is sinful, but God will have compassion on the sinner who has no other happiness on earth than this only one--a love that controls her whole being. And if this sin must be punished, oh, my Maker, I pray you to pardon him, and let the punishment fall on me alone!”

Thus speaking, she raised her arms and directed her eyes toward the heavens in fervent prayer. Suddenly a brilliant light flashed through the air--a star had shot from its sphere, and, after a short course, had become extinguished.

“That bodes misfortune,” said Anna, with a shudder, her head sinking upon her breast.

At this moment there was a loud knocking at her door, and Prince Ulrich, Anna’s husband, earnestly demanded admission.

Anna hastened to open, asking with surprise the cause of his unusual visit.

“Anna,” said the prince, hastily entering, “I come to warn you once more. Again has a warning letter been mysteriously conveyed to me. I have just found it upon my night-table. See for yourself. It implores us to be on our guard. It informs us that we are threatened with a frightful danger, that Elizabeth conspires, and that we are lost if we do not instantly take preventive measures.”

Anna read the warning letter, and then smilingly gave it back to her husband.

“Always the same old song, the same croaking of the toad,” said she. “Count Ostermann has taken it into his head that Elizabeth is conspiring, and doubtless all these warning letters come from him. Read them no more in future, my husband, and now let us retire to rest.”

“And what if it were, nevertheless, true,” said the prince, pressingly--“if we are really threatened with a great danger? A word from you can turn it away. Let us, therefore, be careful! Remember your son, Anna--_his_ life is also threatened! Protect him, mother of the emperor! Allow me, the generalissimo of your forces, to take measures of precaution! Let me establish patrols, and cause a regiment, for whose fidelity I can be answerable, to guard the entrances of the palace!”

Anna smilingly shook her head. “No,” said she, “nothing of all that shall be done! Such precautions manifest suspicion, and would wound the feelings of this good Elizabeth. She is innocent, believe me. I yesterday sharply observed her, and she came out from the trial pure. It would be ignoble to distrust her now. Moreover, she has my princely word that I will always listen only to herself, and believe no one but her. In the morning I will go to her and show her this letter, that she may have an opportunity to justify herself.”

“You therefore consider her wholly innocent?” asked the prince, with a sigh.

“Yes, perfectly innocent. Her firm demeanor, her asseverations, her tears, have convinced me that it was unjust in us to believe the hateful rumors that had spread concerning her. Let us therefore retire in peace and quiet. No danger threatens us from Elizabeth!”

There was something convincing and tranquillizing in Anna’s immovable conviction; the prince felt his inability to oppose her, and was ashamed of his feminine fears in the face of her masculine intrepidity.

With a sigh he took his leave and returned to his own room. At the door he turned once again.

“Anna,” said he, with solemnity, “you have decided upon our destiny, and God grant that it may eventuate happily! But should it be otherwise, should the monstrous and terrible break in upon you, then, at least, remember this hour, in which I warned you, and confess that I am free from all blame!”

Without awaiting an answer, with a drooping head and deep sigh, the prince left the room.

Anna looked after him with a compassionate smile.

“Poor prince!” she murmured low, “he is always so timid and trembling; that indicates unhappiness! He loves me, and I cannot force my heart to return the feeling. Poor prince, it must be very sad to love and be unloved!”

With a sigh she closed the door through which her husband had passed.

“I will now sleep,” said she. “Yes, sleep! Possibly Heaven may send me a pleasant dream, and I may see my Lynar! But no, I must first go to Ivan, to ascertain whether his slumber is tranquil.”

With hasty steps she repaired to the adjacent chamber, which was that of the young emperor.

There all was still. Before the door opening upon the corridor she heard the regular step of the soldier on guard. The waiters upon the emperor were slumbering upon mattresses around him. It was a picture of profound tranquillity.

With light steps Anna approached the cradle of her son, and, bending down over him, regarded him with tender maternal glances, while his still and peaceful slumber seemed to touch her heart with a sweet emotion.

“Sleep, my dear child, my charming little emperor,” she murmured--“sleep, and in your dreams may you play with angels as beautiful as yourself!”

Bending again over the cradle, she breathed a light kiss upon the rosy lips of her child, and then noiselessly returned to her own chamber.

“And now,” said she, drawing a long breath, “now will I, also, sleep and dream! Good-night, my beloved; good-night, Lynar!”

With a happy smile she reclined upon her couch, and soon slumbered.

At this moment the clock in the next chamber struck the twelfth hour. Slowly and solemnly resounded the tones of the striking clocks that announced the midnight.

At this same hour a lively movement commenced in the palace of the Princess Elizabeth. Lights were seen glancing from window to window, hurrying shadows were seen coming and going in the rooms, every thing there announced an activity unusual for the hour, and certainly it was a signal good fortune for Elizabeth that Anna had forbidden her husband’s sending a patrol through the streets. One single patrol passing the palace might have frustrated the whole conspiracy!

But the streets were perfectly quiet; nowhere was a sentinel or watchman to be seen.

The slight creaking and whizzing of a sledge upon the crackling snow was now heard; it came nearer and nearer, and then there was a knocking at the palace gate. The porter opened, and two sledges drove into the court.

The first, with a rich covering and magnificent ornaments, was empty. But Lestocq was seen to spring out of the second, and hurriedly enter the palace.

Elizabeth, splendidly dressed, sparkling with brilliants, was waiting in her small reception-room. No one but Alexis Razumovsky was with her. Neither of them spoke, and their visages plainly discovered that they were in a state of painfully uncomfortable suspense.

Elizabeth was pale and had a convulsive twitching about her mouth, her form trembled feverishly, and she was obliged to cling to Razumovsky, to prevent falling.

“Did you hear the opening of the court-yard gate?” she breathed low. “Lestocq is not yet here, and it is past midnight. Certainly he is arrested, all is discovered, and we are lost! I am fearfully anxious, Alexis; I already seem to feel the sword at my throat. Ah, hear you not steps in the corridor? They come this way. They are my pursuers. They come to conduct me to the scaffold! Save me, Alexis, save me!”

And with a shrill cry of anguish the princess clung to the neck of her favorite.

The door was now hastily opened, and upon the threshold appeared Lestocq and Woronzow.

“Princess Elizabeth!” exclaimed Lestocq, with solemnity, “I have come for you. The throne awaits its empress!”

“Up, Princess Elizabeth,” said Alexis, “take courage, my fair empress, give us an example of spirit and resolution!”

The princess slowly raised her pale face from Razumovsky’s shoulder, and looking around with timid glances, faintly said: “I suffer fearfully! This anguish will kill me! My destiny is so cruel, I am so tormented. Why must I be an empress?”

“That you may be no nun,” laconically responded Lestocq.

“And to become the greatest and loftiest woman in the world!” said Woronzow.

“To raise to your own elevation the man you love,” whispered Alexis.

With a glance of tenderness, Elizabeth nodded to him.

“Yes,” said she, “for your sake, my Alexis, I will become an empress! Come, let us go. But where is Grunstein?”

“With his faithful followers he awaits us before the casern of his regiment. We go there first.”

“Then let us go!” said Elizabeth, striding forward. But she stopped on seeing that Alexis followed with the other two.

“No,” said she, “you must not go with us, Alexis. If I am to have courage to act and speak, I must know that you are not mingled in the strife--I must not have to tremble for your life! No, no, only when I know that you are concealed and in safety, can I have courage to struggle for an imperial crown. Promise me, therefore, Alexis, that you will quietly remain here until I send a messenger for you!”

Razumovsky begged and implored in vain--in vain he knelt before her, and covered her hands with tears and kisses.

Elizabeth remained inflexible, and, as Alexis yet persisted in his prayers, she earnestly and proudly said: “Alexis Razumovsky, I command you to remain here. You will obey the first command of your empress!”

“I will remain,” sighed Alexis, “and the world will point the finger of scorn at me, calling me a coward!”

“And I will compel the world to honor you as a king!” said Elizabeth, with tenderness, beckoning to Lestocq and Woronzow to follow her from the room.

Silently they hastened down the stairs--silently was Elizabeth handed into her sledge, while Lestocq and Woronzow took their places in the second.

“Forward!” thundered Lestocq’s powerful voice, and the train rushed through the dark and deserted streets.

St. Petersburg slept. No one appeared at the darkened windows of the silent palaces, no one boded that a new empress was passing through the streets,--an empress, who at this time had but two subjects in her train!

They had now reached the casern of the Peobrajensky regiment. There they halted. In the open door stands Grunstein with his thirty recruits.

They silently approached the sledge of the princess and prostrated themselves before her.

“Hail to our empress!” whispered Grunstein low, and as low was it repeated by the soldiers.

“Let us enter the casern, call the soldiers, and awaken the officers; I myself will address them!” said Elizabeth, alighting from her sledge. She was now full of courage and resolution. In the face of danger now no longer to be avoided, she had suddenly steeled her heart; her father’s spirit was awakened in her.

With a firm step she entered the casern; the conspirators had already raised an alarm there, and the suddenly aroused soldiers rushed from all the corridors, with wonder and admiration staring at this noble and beautiful woman who, radiant in the splendor of her beauty, and sparkling with jewels, stood in their midst.

“Soldiers,” cried Elizabeth, with a firm voice, “I come to implore your support in my attempt to obtain justice in the realm of my father! I am the daughter of the great Emperor Peter, the rightful heir to the throne of Russia, and I claim what is mine! I will no longer suffer a German princess to give laws to you, my beloved brethren and countrymen! Follow me, therefore, and let us drive away these foreign intruders who have usurped the throne of your lawful sovereign!”

“All hail, Elizabeth, our empress!” cried the conspirators, prostrating themselves.

Surprised, benumbed, and overpowered, the others made no opposition. Miserable slaves, they were accustomed to obey whoever dared assume the command over them,--and they therefore submitted. Falling upon their knees, they took the oath of allegiance to the new empress!

Elizabeth was now the empress of three hundred soldiers.

“Up, now, my friends, to the palace of the czar, where these usurpers dwell and inflict upon you the shame of calling a cradled infant your emperor. Come, and let us punish them for this insult, by thrusting them from their usurped power!”

“We will follow our empress in life and death!” cried the soldiers.

They therefore started again, and once more hastened through the silent streets until, at length, they reached the imperial palace, where dwelt the Emperor Ivan with his parents.

Elizabeth, with her confidential partisans in four sledges, had hastened on in advance of the others. With renewed courage they approached the principal entrance of the palace.

The guard took to their arms, and the drummer was preparing to beat an alarm, when a single blow of Lestocq’s fist broke through the skin of the drum.

The terrified drummer fell, and over his body passed the band of conspirators, Elizabeth at their head.

No one ventured to oppose them; the slaves fell upon their knees in homage to her who announced herself as their mistress and empress!

Thus meeting with universal submission and obedience, they approached the wing of the palace occupied by the Emperor Ivan and his mother the regent. Here is stationed an officer of the guard. He alone ventures defiance to the intruders. He meets them with his sword drawn, and swears to strike down the first person who attempts to enter the corridor.

“Unhappy man, what is it you dare!” said Lestocq, boldly advancing. “You are guilty of high-treason. Fall upon your knees and implore pardon of your empress, Elizabeth!”

The officer shrank bank in terror. It was an empress who stood before him, and he had dared to defy her!

Begging forgiveness and mercy, he dropped his sword and fell upon his knees. The Russian slave was awakened in him, and he bent before the one who had the power to command.

Unobstructed, retained by no one, Elizabeth and her followers now strode through the corridor leading to the private apartments of the regent. Sentinels were placed at every door, with strict commands to strike down any one who should dare to oppose them.

In this manner they reached the anteroom of the regent’s chamber.

Elizabeth had not the courage to go any farther. She hesitatingly stopped. A deep shame and repentance came over her when she thought of the noble confidence Anna had shown, and which she was now on the point of repaying with the blackest treason.

Lestocq, whose sharp, observing glances constantly rested upon her, divined her thoughts and the cause of her irresolution. He privately whispered some words to Grunstein, who, with thirty grenadiers, immediately approached the door of Anna’s sleeping-room.

With a single push the door was forced, and with a wild cry the soldiers rushed to the couch upon which Anna Leopoldowna was reposing.

With a cry of anguish Anna springs up from her slumber, and shudderingly stares at the soldiers by whom she is encompassed, who, with rough voices, command her to rise and follow them. They scarcely give her time to put on a robe, and encase her little feet in shoes.

But Anna has become perfectly calm and self-possessed. She knows she is lost, and, too proud to weep or complain, she finds in herself courage to be tranquil.

“I beg only to be allowed to speak to Elizabeth,” said she, aloud. “I will do all you command me. I will follow you wherever you wish, only let me first see your empress, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth, leaning against the door-post, had heard these words; yielding to an involuntary impulse of her heart, she pushed open the door and appeared upon the threshold of Anna Leopoldowna’s chamber.

On perceiving her, a faint smile passed over Anna’s features.

“Ah, come you thus to me, Elizabeth?” she said, reproachfully, with a proud glance at the princess.

Elizabeth could not support that glance. She cast down her eyes, and again Anna Leopoldowna smiled. She was conquered, but before her, blushing with shame, stood her momentarily subdued conqueror. But Anna now remembered her son, and, folding her hands, she said, in an imploring tone:

“Elizabeth, kill not my son! Have compassion upon him!”

Elizabeth turned away with a shudder, she felt her heart rent, she had not strength for an answer.

Lestocq beckoned the soldiers, and commanded them to remove the traitress, Anna Leopoldowna.

Thirty warriors took possession of the regent, who calmly and proudly submitted herself to them and suffered herself to be led away.

In the corridor they encountered another troop of soldiers, who were escorting the regent’s husband, Prince Ulrich of Brunswick, and Anna’s favorite, Julia von Mengden.

“Anna!” sorrowfully exclaimed the prince, “oh, had you but listened to my warning! Why did I not, in spite of your commands, what I ought to have done? I alone am to blame for this sad misfortune.”

“It is no one’s fault but mine,” calmly responded Anna. “Pardon me, my husband, pardon me, Julia.”

And so they descended to the sledges in waiting below. They placed the prince in one, and the regent, with Julia, in the other.

“Ah,” said Julia, throwing her arms around Anna’s neck, “we shall at least suffer together.”

Anna reclined her head upon her friend’s shoulder.

“God is just and good,” said she. “He punishes me for my criminal love, and mercifully spares the object of my affections. I thank God for my sufferings. Julia, should you one day be liberated and allowed to see him again, then bear to him my warmest greetings; then tell him that I shall love him eternally, and that my last sigh shall be a prayer for his happiness. I shall never see him again. Bear to him my blessing, Julia!”

Julia dissolved in tears, and, clinging to her friend, she sobbed: “No, no, they will not dare to kill you.”

“Then they will condemn me to a life-long imprisonment,” calmly responded Anna.

“No, no, your head is sacred, and so is your freedom. They dare not attack either.”

“Nothing is sacred in Russia,” laconically responded Anna.

The sledges stopped at the palace of the Princess Elizabeth. Hardly two hours had passed since Elizabeth, in those same sledges, had left her palace as a poor, trembling princess; and now, as reigning empress, she sent them back to the dethroned regent.

The latter entered the palace of the princess as a prisoner, while Elizabeth, as empress, took possession of the palace of the czars.

THE SLEEP OF INNOCENCE

Anna Leopoldowna had hardly left the room in which she had been surprised and captured, when Lestocq turned to Grunstein with a new order.

“Now,” said he, in an undertone to him--“now hasten to seize the emperor. This little Ivan must be annihilated.”

Elizabeth had overheard these words, and remembering Anna’s last prayer, she exclaimed with vehemence:

“No, no, I say, he shall not be annihilated! Woe to him who injures a hair of his head! I will not be the murderer of an innocent child! Take him prisoner, get him in your power, but in him respect the child and the emperor! Tear him not forcibly from his slumber, but protect his sleep! Poor child, destined to suffer so early!”

“No weakness now, princess,” whispered Lestocq; “show yourself great and firm, else all is lost! Come away from here, that the sight of this child may not yet more enfeeble your heart. Come, much more remains to be done.”

And, reverently taking Elizabeth’s hand, he led her to the door.

“Now do your duty,” said he to Grunstein. “Seize young Ivan.”

“But remember my command, and spare him,” said Elizabeth, slowly and hesitatingly leaving the chamber.

“Now to Ivan!” Grunstein commanded his soldiers, and with them he hastened to the sleeping-room of the young emperor.

There deep stillness and undisturbed peace yet prevailed. Only the waiting-women were awakened, and had hastily fled in search of concealment and safety. They had left the young emperor entirely alone, and he had not been awakened by the disturbance all around him.