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, blue, green, gilded, and pagoda -like. And 
 among the islands are darting boats, gondolas, canoes, 
 of every kind and description. Some rowed by twelve 
 boatmen, others by a solitary dreamer ; the one flashing 
 along at lightning speed, the other letting himself drift 
 on with the stream. The song of the boatmen is in the 
 air. 
 
 In the uncertain light their figures stand out like black 
 silhouettes. Korynthia asks herself which of the gon- 
 dolas is bringing to her him she is expecting which is 
 the silhouette of his figure ? 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 305 
 
 To the watcher the last half-hour seems longest. Ko- 
 rynthia turns from the balcony to the interior of her room, 
 and gazes once more at herself in her mirror. You are 
 beautiful, very beautiful, says her mirror ; that white cos- 
 tume lends you quite a youthful appearance, leaving, as 
 it does, the rounded marble of the arms bare to the shoul- 
 der. Your wealth of fair hair is not stiffly arranged, but 
 floats in two thick tresses. No ornament of any kind, 
 bracelet or earring, enhances your charms. The confi- 
 dent champion enters the battle-field without helmet or 
 shield. Even the wedding-ring is absent. You are beau- 
 tiful indeed says her mirror. 
 
 And beside the mirror hangs a picture, set in a thick 
 gold frame. It is the picture of a young girl in the 
 garb of a mythical shepherdess tender and delicate as 
 a dream. Korynthia had received it some years ago, a 
 present from the Czar. She may possibly have divined 
 even then that it was no fancy picture, but a portrait ; 
 she may even have guessed whom it represented. With- 
 in the last few days she knows for certain. She has 
 met'the original. It was the portrait of Sophie Narish- 
 kin. 
 
 Certainly she might long since have known it from 
 Bethsaba have seen portrait and original often enough, 
 had she asked her. But although lying was foreign to 
 the nature of the Circassian king's daughter, she knew 
 how to be silent, and had that much Armenian blood 
 in her veins not to answer when not directly questioned. 
 
 So the reflection in the mirror and the portrait in the 
 frame were in close proximity. And comparison left 
 the living reflection victor. 
 
 You pale child with your dreamy eyes, your lips seem- 
 ing to open in lament ; your tender, shadowy frame, 
 how can you think to rival the divine presence of a 
 20 
 
306 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 woman ? What power can you have, melancholy dream- 
 picture of another world, against this earthly woman 
 whose beauty arouses and quenches passion, kills and 
 inspires life? Do you possess an Aleko, he chooses 
 himself a gypsy maid ; and that is not you. Is he not 
 himself a true gypsy, leading a vagabond, adventurous 
 life ? In a word, is he not a poet ? 
 
 Time went on slowly. Korynthia opened the win- 
 dows looking on to the park. A concert of nightingales 
 came from the bushes. A butterfly the night pea- 
 cock's eye flew in at the open window ; taking her for 
 a flower, it flew about her, not about the portrait. Then 
 flew in another night moth, differing from others in that 
 it emits a sound an unpleasant, shrill, yet melancholy 
 hum. Its name is Sphinx Atropos. Why has it been 
 called by the name of that one of the Parcae which sev- 
 ers the thread of life ? Because its back and head are 
 the exact counterpart of a death's-head. Ss h ! The 
 lady brushes away the weird moth ; but it had found a 
 refuge ; it had flown across to the picture and had set- 
 tled in a corner of the frame. 
 
 At length the twilight deepens. A few impatient 
 employes let off the first rockets from the pleasure gar- 
 dens in the islands. Bengal lights are beginning to 
 show on Kreskowsky Island. 
 
 Ah, of course ! It is Zeneida's birthday. The court 
 calendar has found a place for her among the saints ; 
 there are great doings to-night in her palace. And 
 something more, perhaps a sitting of the Szojusz Bla- 
 gadenztoiga. Under every possible guise and excuse, it 
 holds its meetings at the singer's house. 
 
 When Prince Ghedimin left home that evening he had 
 told his wife that he was commanded to the Czar, and 
 would be away all night discussing important matters of 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 307 
 
 state. It is therefore certain that he will be spending 
 the night at Zeneida's, and Korynthia need not fear to 
 be disturbed ; it is a case of tit for tat. Any moment 
 may now bring him the one so impatiently expected. 
 
 For as soon as the fireworks on the islands begin 
 they attract all the servants and watchmen yet awake. 
 There is no one to keep guard on the winding paths of 
 the park. The great clock strikes eleven ; every quarter 
 of an hour four bells ring a carillon. At the last stroke 
 of the clock she seems to hear the sound of approach- 
 ing footsteps on the gravel. Who else can it be ? An 
 aristocrat's step is so different from that of a mujik. 
 She is right. 
 
 The new-comer, stopping at the door of the garden 
 veranda, opens it with a key. His footsteps now an- 
 nounce his coming, as they hurriedly ascend the spiral 
 staircase. Korynthia has studied the pose in which she 
 will be surprised. Leaning over the window -sill, her 
 face resting on her hand a dreamy figure so absorbed 
 in the song of the nightingales that she does not per- 
 ceive some one approach her, bend over her, and breathe 
 a soft kiss upon her lovely shoulder. 
 
 The Princess seems to rouse from her reverie with a 
 start, as, with an air of smiling reproach, she turns to 
 the stealer of the kiss, " Ah, how late you are !" But as 
 she sees him, she starts in reality. The kiss has been 
 no theft. The perpetrator had but taken what was his 
 own. It was her husband, Prince Ghedimin. Koryn- 
 thia stammered out, " How early you have come home !" 
 
 "You just said how late I was." 
 
 " I was dreaming. I did not know what I was saying. 
 How did you get in ?" 
 
 " By the garden veranda. You know that I have the 
 key." 
 
308 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 And now it occurs to Korynthia that that other, to 
 whom she had given the duplicate, may even now be 
 coming. 
 
 " Did you fasten the door ?" 
 
 " No, for in five minutes I must be off again." 
 
 " But I beg you to fasten the door, and leave your 
 key on the inside. You know how terrified I am of 
 thieves." 
 
 " All right. I'll go back and close it." 
 
 During his brief absence Korynthia wrapped herself 
 in a thick shawl. She did not need the pretext of cold ; 
 she was shivering with agitation. 
 
 The Prince returned. 
 
 " I must briefly tell you that I come from the Czar." 
 
 " Indeed ! And not from Fraulein Zeneida's soiree ?" 
 
 " No, my love. I come from the Czar and Czarina." 
 
 " Of course, if you say so." 
 
 "You will not doubt it when I tell you what I have 
 witnessed." 
 
 " Pray begin." 
 
 Korynthia remains by the window to announce by the 
 sound of voices to that other that she is not alone. 
 
 " His Majesty has for the past two days repeatedly 
 commanded me to his presence to deliberate certain 
 matters of state; yet each time he has either been 
 shut up in his room, and I have not been admitted, or 
 if he has appointed me to go to him to Czarskoje Zelo, 
 he has gone to the Hermitage. This evening I was 
 commanded to Monplaisir. I traversed every room, 
 right and left, until at length I found him on the upper 
 veranda with the Czarina. Three times, four times, I 
 saluted the Czar, but he took no notice of me. The 
 Czarina signed to me to remain where I was. The Czar 
 stood leaning against the marble parapet, motionless as 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 309 
 
 a statue, his eyes fixed upon the Neva, the Czarina, as 
 fixedly, almost in fear, watching his eyes. Hundreds 
 of boats were gliding over the smooth surface, cross- 
 ing each other, shooting hither and thither. Suddenly a 
 large barge came in sight, going down-stream, rowed in 
 slow, rhythmic measure by eight boatmen. The barge 
 was lighted by lamps fastened to poles ; in the centre 
 was a coffin, draped with a light-blue satin pall. In the 
 open coffin lay a young girl in white funereal dress, a 
 wreath of myrtle on her head. Round it stood choristers 
 singing a funereal chant, which ascended to where the 
 Czar stood : 
 
 " 'Ah, the day of tears and mourning, 
 From the dust of earth returning, 
 Man for judgment must prepare him.' 
 
 There were none to follow the funereal barge. As 
 it passed Monplaisir one could read conspicuously on 
 the lid, placed beside the coffin, the name studded in 
 gold nails Sophie Narishkin. Yes, you may well 
 draw your shawl about you, madame ! It is cold, is it 
 not?" 
 
 The Prince had no idea of the effect of his words ; he 
 was still seeing what his memory had impressed upon 
 him, not what was before him. He continued : 
 
 ''Human language has no words to express the an- 
 guish at that moment imprinted on the Czar's coun- 
 tenance. With glowing eyes, convulsed lips, and gath- 
 ered brows, he stood there clinching his hands ; and, 
 while with his eyes he followed the barge, a gigantic 
 struggle seemed working within him. I have witnessed 
 much sorrow in my life ; never did I feel such sympa- 
 thy for a man as for this one ! He dared not betray 
 his feelings, for the Czarina was standing by his side. 
 
310 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 She, too, studied his face with great attention. Sud- 
 denly she bent towards him, and, taking his hand in 
 hers, cried, 'Why do you not weep? Why keep back 
 your tears ? It is your own dear child who is being 
 borne to her last resting-place!' And, as if to open 
 the font of his grief, she threw herself upon the 
 Czar's breast and burst into weeping. And then the 
 mighty ruler, before whom millions of men tremble, 
 knelt before his neglected, forsaken wife, embraced her 
 knees, and, sobbing, kissed the hem of her dress, she 
 joining her tears to his. It was a scene I shall never 
 forget. The separated husband. and wife were reunited 
 in the hour of their bitter sorrow ; they had come to- 
 gether again, the past forgotten. They leaned over 
 the balcony, saluting the disappearing barge with a 
 last farewell ! My eyes fill with tears as I think 
 of it." 
 
 The Prince did well to weep. It was meet that 
 one or' other of them should shed tears at what had 
 passed. 
 
 "Then, pressing his hand to his heart, the Czar 
 gasped, * And there was not a soul to follow her to the 
 grave !' It was indeed a bitter thought. Even a beg- 
 gar has some poor wretch to follow and mourn for him. 
 And she had no one ! Then a thought struck me, 
 and I rushed to my gondola and came to you. I am 
 the Czar's Prime - Minister ; you a Princess Narishkin. 
 How would it be were we to catch up the funeral barge 
 in a light, fast-rowing gondola, and act as Sophie Narish- 
 kin's mourners ? W 7 hat do you think ?" 
 
 But the woman beside him had not depth of feeling 
 enough to take her noble -hearted husband's hand in 
 hers, and giving her tears free course, to say, " Yes, let 
 us go ; Sophie Narishkin is mine to mourn over !" No ; 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 311 
 
 that woman had more power of self-control than had 
 the Czar. Her woman's pride, conquering the animal 
 instinct sometimes called maternal within her, she 
 could answer coldly and calmly : 
 
 " What are you thinking of ? How should we ac- 
 count to the world for our uncalled-for escort? And, 
 then, it is too late ; before I could put on a mourning- 
 dress the barge would have got beyond all possibility 
 of our reaching it. Besides, what do I care for .Sophie 
 Narishkin?" 
 
 She could even speak thus at that supreme moment. 
 How true was the Muscovite scientist's classification 
 a degenerate cat. Even a normal cat mourns its young. 
 
 "What is Sophie Narishkin to me?" 
 
 Prince Ghedimin shrugged his shoulders, and, taking 
 out his handkerchief, carefully brushed away traces of 
 tears. It is certainly not worth while to run the risk 
 of making one's own nose red for the troubles of other 
 people. 
 
 "All right. As it does not affect you, let us turn to 
 something else. One other reason brought me here, 
 which may perhaps interest you more. As I got into 
 my gondola my steersman handed me a letter bearing 
 on it ' Pressing.' The letter was from Alexander Ser- 
 gieintch Pushkin" 
 
 " Pushkin ?" repeated Korynthia, in great agitation. 
 
 "Yes; from Pushkin. And the purport of the letter 
 being so extraordinary that my understanding could not 
 grasp it at all, I hastened to you to beg you to solve the 
 riddle." 
 
 Korynthia felt the ground give way beneath her feet. 
 
 " Pushkin !" she stammered. " What should I know 
 of Pushkin's riddles?" 
 
 " Listen. I will read the letter to you." 
 
312 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 And, in order to see better, the Prince now ap- 
 proached the open window, while Korynthia, retreating 
 to the farther side of the room, sought to conceal her 
 agitation. The Prince read : 
 
 "'DEAR IVAN MAXIMOVITCH, I find myself compelled with 
 penitent heart to make you a confession. I have misused the high- 
 minded confidence with which you laid open to me the sacred pri- 
 vacy of your home. Not as my excuse, but as a reason, I refer to 
 my passion, which was stronger than the respect I owed to you. 
 I have stolen the dearest, most care f idly guarded treasure of vour 
 house T " 
 
 " Is the man mad ?" thought Korynthia. 
 
 " ' If you desire to demand reparation for the 'affront, I shall be 
 prepared to give you every satisfaction. You will find me in my 
 country-seat at Pleskow. 
 
 ' ' ' Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " 'PUSHKIN.'" 
 
 The Princess was amazed. The extent of the treach- 
 ery never even dawned upon her. 
 
 " Well ?" The Prince awaited an explanation. The 
 best shield is cold-bloodedness, the best weapon a lie. 
 
 With a shake of the head, Korynthia made answer : 
 
 "But how does Herr Pushkin concern me? What 
 have I to do with his mysteries ?" 
 
 " Naturally, our friend Alexander Pushkin's proceed- 
 ings have no special interest for you, nor should I de- 
 sire it. But in this letter another was enclosed, having 
 on the outside, in what seems to be a lady's handwrit- 
 ing, * Princess Korynthia Alexievna Maria Ghedimin.' 
 Probably in this we shall find the solution of the mys- 
 tery. On that account I must beg you to break the seal 
 and communicate its contents to me if you do not feel 
 it desirable to keep them secret. 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 313 
 
 It was now the Princess's turn to advance to the win- 
 dow, in order to read. No sooner had she the letter in 
 her hand than she exclaimed, in surprise : 
 
 "It is Bethsaba's handwriting!" 
 
 " You know her handwriting ? I have never seen it." 
 
 Kprynthia tore open the letter, and as she read her 
 cheeks flamed. Then, crushing it in her hand, she cried, 
 with hysterical laughter : 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! He has run off with Bethsaba and mar- 
 ried her !" 
 
 Ivan Maximovitch took the matter as a joke. He 
 had expected worse. Indeed, he could rejoice in that 
 Bethsaba had been carried off, destined as she had 
 been to St. Katherine's Convent. His wife's laughter 
 still further misled him, and he thought well to join in it. 
 Now, if his tears had met with but mediocre success, his 
 laughter obtained him an open attack. The Princess 
 first flung the crushed-up letter at his head, then, rush- 
 ing at him like a fury, hissed out through her clinched 
 teeth : 
 
 " This was your work, wretch ! This was connived be- 
 tween you !" 
 
 "Who?" asked the 'Prince, in amazement. 
 
 "You and your sweetheart that Witch of Endor ! 
 You spun the web in which that girl was caught for 
 Pushkin. You prepared the poison in which this dagger 
 is steeped." 
 
 " Madame, I am at a loss to understand why the fact 
 of Pushkin's marrying Bethsaba Dilarianoff should ex- 
 cite you to such fury !" 
 
 Korynthia saw that by her vehemence she had almost 
 been led into self-betrayal ; so said, calmly : 
 
 "You do not understand! This is no question of 
 love, but of high-treason ! What would it matter to me 
 
314 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 if a Circassian Princess chose to fall in love with my 
 lowest groom ? He would probably be too good for her ! 
 But do you know why Pushkin has married this girl ? 
 In order to discover the Czar's secrets, which he con- 
 fided to his daughter, and which were repeated to her 
 friend Bethsaba. Now these secrets, through Pushkin, 
 will become the common property of the Czar's ene- 
 mies ! Thus, you ruin yourself if you are on the side of 
 the Czar; or the Czar, if you conspire against him. And 
 this is what you two have done !" 
 
 Prince Ghedimin stood as if turned to stone. His 
 wife had triumphed. Her words bore so clearly the 
 stamp of truth that defence was not to be thought of. 
 
 " Yes. It was a plot among you all f continued his 
 wife, furiously. " You availed yourselves of the illness 
 of the one to entice the other from me. In order to de- 
 tain me at home, and to prevent my watching over the 
 child intrusted to my care, you sent Pushkin to me with 
 a poem, and, instead of coming to receive his answer, 
 the cowardly fellow steals away with a foolish, inex- 
 perienced girl from the very death -chamber of her 
 friend. Out with such people! Such treachery, deceit, 
 betrayal! You are worthy one of another. A pack of 
 actors and actresses ! Out of my room ! Away with 
 you !" 
 
 When women take to abuse, men are nowhere. Their 
 reasoning powers are gone. Prince Ghedimin was a 
 wise and good man, and innocent as a child of this 
 crime ; which, after all, was no crime at all. Yet after 
 this torrent of abuse he felt a very criminal who had 
 brought about an act of the greatest, most irreparable 
 evil with the coldest calculation, and, in this frame of 
 mind, was glad to be permitted to leave his home and 
 seek his gondola. 
 
THE RENDEZVOUS 315 
 
 We who are in the secret can aver that he did not 
 even now know who Sophie Narishkin's mother was. 
 But this Korynthia did not believe. She looked upon 
 the whole scene as expressly got up to torture her from 
 the appearance of her husband at the very hour of the 
 rendezvous, when he shed upon her love-lorn heart first 
 the ice-drops of the funeral scene, then poured in the 
 poison of the faithlessness of the man she adored. 
 
 It was a deadly poison, killing inwardly and outwardly. 
 When Ghedimin left her, Korynthia, clasping her two 
 hands above her head, threw herself on the ground, sob- 
 bing bitterly. Then, as there was no one to raise her, 
 she assumed a kneeling posture, her long plaits hanging 
 like serpents over her bosom ; and, lifting three fingers 
 to heaven, she gasped out, with hideous vengeance : 
 
 " Oh that I may repay you this some day ! 1 ' 
 
 Her lips parted ; the gnashing of her clinched teeth 
 was audible. She was meditating something: her eyes 
 flashed fire ; she rose, and bared her white, exquisitely 
 formed arm to the shoulder. Then she pressed the 
 rounded muscle of the upper part of her arm between 
 her teeth, and bit into it until the blood flowed from it, 
 and sucked the blood she had drawn. It is the Russian 
 superstition that whoever would insure the fulfilment of 
 his curse must, after uttering it, drink of his own blood. 
 
 The melancholy hum of the death's-head moth in the 
 corner of the picture-frame sounded like the murmur of 
 a lost soul. 
 
316 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 A DIVIDED HEART 
 
 ZENEIDA was celebrating three days of mourning in 
 one. The first, Sophie's funeral; the second, Pushkin's 
 marriage ; the third, her own name-day. 
 
 It had been Sophie's last wish that the wedding should 
 precede her funeral. 
 
 Her soul in its ascent to heaven would see and hear 
 the bliss of the two she had loved so dearly on earth. 
 
 According to Russian custom the lid was only screwed 
 down on to the coffin just before it was lowered into the 
 grave; with face uncovered the wanderer to the Here- 
 after is borne to his last resting-place. 
 
 " Make the ceremony a short one !" Zeneida had said 
 to the officiating priest. 
 
 The Patriarch of Solowetshk, whose feet had suffi- 
 cient Russian understanding to suffer from a severe at- 
 tack of gout that day, had sent a priest in his stead. 
 Let his inferior have his beard shaved off if things go 
 amiss, and not him. For if a priest rashly marry a 
 runaway couple the marriage is legal, but the priest's 
 beard is shaved off, and he is forced to become a soldier. 
 During the wedding ceremony, according to custom, two 
 doves were set flying over the heads of the bridal pair. 
 They fluttered for a time round the veranda, then let 
 themselves down on to the catafalque, at the head of the 
 dead girl, where the crucifix stood ; there, the one on the 
 
A DIVIDED HEART 317 
 
 right hand, the other on the left, above the head of the 
 " martyr to love," they billed and cooed through the 
 whole ceremony. 
 
 The dead girl might well be content. All had been 
 done as she had directed; Bethsaba wore the pink silk 
 wedding-dress; the platinum diadem adorned her brow. 
 
 "That is over," said Zeneida. "Now follows the 
 other quick, quick 1" 
 
 Bethsaba must now change the pink wedding-dress 
 for a black one for the consecration of the dead: Ze- 
 neida helped her to dress ; Pushkin waited without. 
 
 Bethsaba wept on and on, whether clad in pink or black. 
 
 Zeneida betrayed no tendency that day to sentimen- 
 tality. Her utter callousness bordered on cynicism. 
 
 " But we shall see Sophie again in the next world, 
 shall we not?" sobbed Bethsaba. 
 
 " Yes, yes," muttered Zeneida. " And to which of 
 you will Pushkin belong then ?" 
 
 That was the question. 
 
 Bethsaba was startled. Her large eyes remained 
 fixed on Zeneida. 
 
 " And suppose he should belong to neither of you ?" 
 continued Zeneida, drawing her strongly marked eye- 
 brows together. "Or do you imagine that in the here- 
 after there will still be a greater Russia crushing a lesser 
 Finland beneath its heel, so that even then a fool will be 
 found to open the gate of Paradise for some one else, 
 while she herself goes into perdition !" 
 
 This outburst revealed Zeneida' s secret to Bethsaba. 
 Rigid with dismay, she stammered out : 
 
 "You, too, loved him?" 
 
 " Do not ask. Rejoice that he is yours, and do not 
 wish yourself in the next world with him, but do your 
 utmost to keep him to you in this." 
 
3l8 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " And you, too, loved him ?" repeated Bethsaba, sor- 
 rowfully. 
 
 " As you have discovered it, make your discovery 
 of some use," said Zeneida, with seeming affectation. 
 " Now, at least, you know from whom you have to guard 
 him. Take care to keep him away from me. Now you 
 know the sort of person I am. I take pleasure in en- 
 ticing away the husbands and causing the wives bitter 
 tears. Your godmother was right. / am a very devil. 
 Do not bring your Aleko back to St. Petersburg." 
 
 Bethsaba, throwing herself on Zeneida's bosom, em- 
 braced her. 
 
 "It is not true not true not true! You cannot 
 deceive me. Tell me why you gave me Pushkin's heart, 
 when you might so easily have kept it for yourself ? 
 There must be some weighty reason that induced you to 
 do it. Tell it me; he is my husband now. I must know 
 all about him. Even if it be that he loves me not." 
 
 Zeneida, now looking down with gentle smile on the 
 young bride in her mourning-dress, took her in her arms, 
 and in fond embrace drew her to her heart. 
 
 "So you do not think me so bad that you will need 
 to guard your husband from me ? Well, then, I will tell 
 you from whom you must guard him. There is a lovely 
 woman, more captivating than any you have ever seen 
 more seductive, intoxicating, more insatiable. Her name 
 is * Eleutheria.' She can entice the bridegroom from his 
 bride at the very altar rails, and the father of a family 
 from his dear ones; and whom she once captivates she 
 keeps fast hold of till his last heart's blood is spent. 
 His every thought is hers. It is this dread woman who 
 is your rival. Guard your husband from all remem- 
 brance of her, for he is in love with her." 
 
 " * Eleutheria !' that means Freedom." 
 
A DIVIDED HEART 319 
 
 " She bathes in men's blood. It is that which makes 
 her so beautiful. The only presents she will accept are 
 hecatombs ; and of hearts and men she only chooses 
 such as are worth the price of gold and diamonds. The 
 woman who has such a diamond to call her own should 
 guard him well. No pleasure -seeker, no drunkard, no 
 gambler follows his besetting sin so readily as he whom 
 Eleutheria has once enslaved. She has but to proclaim, 
 * My service demands the lives of men,' and thousands 
 upon thousands of her worshippers answer, * Here is 
 mine; take it.' Beware that Pushkin be not among 
 them !" 
 
 Bethsaba let the arms encircling Zeneida's waist sink 
 until they embraced her knees. 
 
 " Oh, unapproachable saint ! You who rejected his 
 heart that you might save his head. Speak, counsel me, 
 how shall I set about doing that which you have charged 
 me to do. It is so difficult. How shall I carry it out, 
 that my work be successful ?" 
 
 And Zeneida, raising the young bride, began to whisper 
 the sensible advice to her that experienced women are 
 wont to give their inexperienced younger sisters. 
 
 " Give up to him in everything. Do not contradict 
 him. If he change his mind seven times in a day. change 
 yours with him. Divine his thoughts and forestall his 
 wishes. If you know one thought of his, you can guess 
 the others. If he be out of temper, do not irritate him 
 with questions as to the reason. In such a mood the 
 dearest face is unwelcome. Requite his love with your 
 whole soul, and do not hide your joy from him. But do 
 not flatter him, for that would turn him from you. Do 
 your utmost to make his home pleasant to him. Let 
 your house and his surroundings be pure and peaceful, 
 yourself be ever cheerful and loving ; never let him hear 
 
320 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 your voice raised harshly to your servants. If he desire 
 to show hospitality, see that you make a good hostess. 
 Do not keep him back from his manly pursuits. Never 
 ask where he is going, whence he comes. Above all, 
 never betray jealousy. What woman is there who can 
 sufficiently stifle jealousy as not to feel it ? Therefore 
 must her heart, his advocate, keep watch that it clear 
 him, even if eyes and ears accuse him. Never meet 
 him with tearful eyes, but keep a strict watch over your 
 own actions. It is not necessary to play the prude 
 with strangers and to be always flying to your husband 
 for protection ; that would only render him ridiculous, 
 and lead to many disagreeables. But never, whether 
 from high spirits or feminine vanity, allow other men to 
 pay you attentions which might arouse your husband's 
 jealousy. If anything annoy you, tell it him gently and 
 at once. Do not brood over it until it grows and he 
 reads the trouble in your face. Be easily pacified. 
 Throughout, be yourself, equable, ever the same ; for, in 
 an evil hour, some fatal moment may suffice to recall his 
 forsaken love, Eleutheria, to his mind, and to throw him 
 again into her arms." 
 
 The little bride listened to her words as though they 
 were the words of Holy Scripture. 
 
 " I will help you to keep him at home and from re- 
 turning to St. Petersburg. I will write you letters say- 
 ing that the Czar is furious that he whom he had chosen 
 as his daughter's husband should have been capable of 
 marrying another on the very day of her funeral. It will 
 not be true, for I shall show the Czar Sophie's will, and 
 it will disarm him ; but Pushkin must be made to believe 
 that he is in disgrace, and dare not return to St. Peters- 
 burg without special permission. And we will expunge 
 his name from ' the green book,' that he receive no more 
 
A DIVIDED HEART 321 
 
 invitations to meetings. Let him be hidden in your 
 arms until better times dawn or what I far rather be- 
 lieve in until the day of our extinction. When all is 
 over, then you may come back to the world. Until then 
 we must keep him in the belief that for him, exiled by 
 his Czar, vilified by his peers, there is no other world 
 than his love and his Olympus. And are they not, in 
 themselves, two worlds two heavens ?" 
 
 Pushkin entered. 
 
 " Not ready yet ?" 
 
 " Leave us alone ! I am just about to spoil your wife. 
 I am advising her how to keep you under her thumb. 
 You are not to listen." 
 
 "All very fine. The first hour we are together she 
 will tell me all about it." 
 
 The choristers in the chamber of death now began 
 their solemn chant. It was a long ceremony, but it, 
 too, came to an end. The priest, taking the two can- 
 dlesticks, held them over the cross while he spake the 
 blessing, walked three times round the coffin waving 
 incense, then placed the parchment containing the list 
 of sins, at the end of which was inscribed the absolu- 
 tion, into the dead child's hands as her passport into 
 eternity; after which the candles on the catafalque 
 were extinguished. The two doves upon the crucifix 
 continued their billing and cooing. 
 
 They carried out the coffin to the barge draped with 
 funereal hangings. Many blossoms from the garden ac- 
 companied it ; it was covered with wreaths. The blue, 
 green, and red lights glared in the twilight. The chor- 
 isters continued their chant, the gentle plash of the oars 
 marking time to it. Long those left behind gazed after 
 the departing boat, until the next wooded island hid it 
 from their view. 
 
 21 
 
322 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " She has gone on her journey !" said Zeneida ; there 
 were no tears in her eyes. " Now it is your turn. Quick ! 
 No leave-takings; they are so wearisome. Be off with 
 you ! I have my guests to see to, a right merry com- 
 pany. I must hurry back. One kiss is enough, Beth- 
 saba ; you may give the others to your Aleko. Take 
 quickly with you what is yours." 
 
 " Alas ! that is impossible," sighed Pushkin, who had 
 the bad habit of being unable to keep back what was 
 in his mind. " One part she who is gliding away in 
 that gondola has taken with her; a second part you 
 take; to this poor child belongs only the remainder." 
 
 " That is not true," returned Zeneida, with proud, ra- 
 diant face. " She who has gone back to heaven has 
 bequeathed her part in you to your wife ; she who is 
 here has, even now, given up to her that which she 
 might have possessed. Bethsaba knows all about it. 
 You are hers, wholly, entirely. And now, God be with 
 you !" 
 
 And she held out her hand to him. The allies of the 
 new epoch did not kiss in greeting. 
 
 And as Pushkin pressed the hand she held out to him, 
 a ray of joy passed over Zeneida's countenance. Free- 
 masons have a sign by which they recognize each other 
 in hand pressure. Pushkin had not given the sign this 
 time. 
 
 Already he had forgotten his former love. To the 
 new one, to whom he had plighted his marital troth, 
 he belonged wholly, entirely. 
 
 It was as "she" had desired; and smilingly Zeneida 
 waved her white handkerchief to the vanishing gondola, 
 which a troika awaited on the opposite bank. Only 
 when she could see it no longer did she hide her face 
 in the said white handkerchief, and whether it was be- 
 
SPARKS AND ASHES 323 
 
 dewed with tears or not that handkerchief alone can tell. 
 She did not remove it from her eyes until her gondolier 
 addressed her. 
 
 " If you please, madame, the rockets on Kreskowsky 
 Island have begun." 
 
 "Ah yes. You are right. The third funeral awaits 
 me!" 
 
 With that she hastened into her gondola, and within 
 its closed curtains sang, in a low voice : 
 
 " By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept; 
 
 For they that led us away captive required of us a song, 
 Saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. 
 
 If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cun- 
 ning." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 SPARKS AND ASHES 
 
 ZENEIDA'S gondola glided quickly past the funera 
 barge back to Kreskowsky Island. Her guests were 
 entertaining themselves without her. They were used 
 to do so. 
 
 The conspirators were largely represented ; even Pes- 
 tel, from far-off Nikolajevsk, was there. To-night the 
 conflicting parties were to measure themselves ; the 
 decision was to be made which plan should be the ac- 
 cepted one : the one which should give freedom by 
 means of the Czar ; or that which, regardless of him, 
 living or dead, should carry the work to its comple- 
 tion. 
 
 As the fireworks commenced, the Bojars withdrew 
 from the gay scene to the roulette chamber. 
 
324 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 There were three - and - twenty men and Zeneida. 
 Prince Ghedimin alone was still expected ; he was to 
 come direct from the Czar. 
 
 He came. 
 
 He had a long envelope, sealed with five seals, in his 
 hand. 
 
 In extreme agitation all awaited the opening of the 
 document. The Prince cut the seals with a pair of 
 scissors, opened the envelope, and there fell from it 
 the ashes of some burned sheets of paper, as they had 
 been reclaimed from the fire. It was the anxiously 
 awaited charta reduced to ashes. 
 
 " I said so !" exclaimed Pestel, with triumphant coun- 
 tenance. " The whole thing was a comedy. Scarce 
 three months has it lasted. There's an end of fine 
 words. Now to dark deeds !" 
 
 Nothing was left but to decide if the deed should be 
 consummated. 
 
 They voted openly and by name. 
 
 There were twelve ayes and twelve noes. 
 
 "There is still one to give the casting vote," said 
 Pestel. "Here is the 'Votum Minervae.' Here is 
 Zeneida. Her vote shall decide it." 
 
 Zeneida saw the deadly pallor which had overspread 
 Ghedimin's face. 
 
 With calm voice she said, " Aye." 
 
 Thirteen to twelve the majority for the deed. But 
 when ? That was the next question. 
 
 Pestel said, " At once." 
 
 Ryleieff moved that in September would be their best 
 opportunity, at the concentration of the army. 
 
 " To-day," growled Jakuskin. " Not to-morrow !" 
 
 Fresh votes had to be taken. 
 
 " At once, or in September?" 
 
SPARKS AND ASHES 325 
 
 Once more the votes were twelve to twelve. Once 
 more Zeneida was called upon to give the casting vote. 
 
 Upon her breath hung the decision whether the world 
 at that very hour should be shattered to its founda- 
 tions. 
 
 " In September," she said; and Ghedimin gave a deep 
 breath of relief. 
 
 Pestel shrugged his shoulders wrathfully. 
 
 " Then it were better to put it off until May, to try the 
 success of the concentration of the army in Kiew. There 
 in the South we are the masters." 
 
 "Shame upon us!" growled Jakuskin. "We are 
 twelve to their twelve, and dare not do the deed. Every 
 one of us a Brutus ! More than an Armada ! Were I 
 alone I would do it myself." 
 
 The concluding set piece of the fireworks was greet- 
 ed by the crowd without with clapping of hands. ' The 
 golden rain fell like a shower of stars from the sky. 
 
 "Very well. The 2oth of September," whispered the 
 conspirators, as they shook hands with each other. 
 Loud peals of laughter were heard among the gay com- 
 pany; the health of the lady of the house was drunk 
 with acclaim. 
 
 Upon the smooth surface of the Neva, under the shower 
 of golden rain, gently glided the funeral barge to its 
 destination ; the dead lay with face serene ; and amid 
 the applause and hand-clapping of the spectators arose 
 the dirge : 
 
 "Ah, the day of tears and mourning,' 
 From the dust of earth returning, 
 Man for judgment must prepare him." 
 
 The psalm and noisy crowd were silenced. The 
 golden sparks died out, the ashes were extinguished. 
 
326 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Morning began to dawn. Not a soul was to be seen on 
 the Neva. Every one had gone home to sleep through 
 the gray morning hours; the forenoon in St. Petersburg 
 is good for nothing else. 
 
 Even morning here has its special characteristics. 
 The sky is white, and as it is reflected on the calm sur- 
 face of the Neva it seems like one plate of burnished 
 silver, upon which the long streaks of cloud and the 
 heavy foliage of the trees stand out black as night. 
 Pomp of death in sky and earth ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 DAIMONA 
 
 THE mistress of Grusino, who ruled Araktseieff as 
 completely as he ruled the empire, was neither young 
 nor beautiful. She could not have laid claim to beauty 
 even in youth, and her stature was of manly propor- 
 tions. 
 
 There are plain women who can make themselves 
 pleasant; who, aware that they have not the advantages 
 of good looks, lay themselves out to charm by their 
 manner. But Daimona wanted to be beautiful. Her 
 complexion was dark she painted herself very red and 
 very white ; but as her beautifying only extended to 
 her face, leaving her neck its natural hue, it gave her 
 the appearance of wearing a mask. Having no eye- 
 brows, but desiring to obtain them by artificial aid be- 
 ing, moreover, extremely short-sighted she usually con- 
 trived to paint first one, then the other, higher or lower 
 than its fellow. Her teeth were blackened from much 
 smoking and indulgence in sweets. In addition, she 
 
DAIMONA 327 
 
 selected the most ridiculous and garish of costumes 
 and colors, always overloaded with ribbons and jewels. 
 When she spoke it was in a man's barytone, which, 
 when agitated, broke into a sobbing squeak. 
 
 And this voice of hers, heard all day long without 
 cessation, inspired fear in all around her, for she only 
 opened her mouth to scold and abuse. In her com- 
 munications to her household she made use of the 
 most singular punctuation; the cane formed a comma, 
 a box on both ears a colon, and the knout a full 
 stop. 
 
 And this woman was the delight, the goddess, the 
 idol, of the all-powerful court favorite. The whole 
 land knew the infatuation of the great statesman for 
 her; whoever aimed at accomplishing any end in St. 
 Petersburg must first make his way to Grusino ; for a 
 good word from Daimona outbalanced a whole wagon- 
 load of letters of introduction and whole sackfuls of 
 merit. 
 
 And that good word was never given for nothing, 
 Daimona understood her business ; she had a carefully 
 made -out tariff for favors desired: So much for an 
 official post ; so much for a concession ; so much for an 
 order ; so much to be let off from an undesired expedi- 
 tion to Siberia, with or without accompaniment of the 
 knout on the way, on foot, or by sledge. She could tell 
 it all off by heart. 
 
 The most aristocratic men and women did not esteem 
 it beneath their dignity, whenever they deemed it advis- 
 able, to present themselves with friendly or deferential 
 mien to the mistress of Grusino, who, wedded neither 
 in right nor left handed marriage to the favorite, was 
 originally the cast-off wife of a sailor condemned to 
 Siberia, and afterwards had served her time as a vi- 
 
328 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 vandiere to the Ismailowsk Regiment, who had given her 
 the sobriquet of the "squinting Diana." 
 
 And, withal, she had completely captivated the clever 
 man before whom a vast empire trembled. Araktseieff 
 was only at his ease when, throwing off the " iron mask," 
 he could be himself again in the arms of the chatelaine 
 of Grusino. 
 
 At court, in order to retain his influence, he had 
 humbly, in cold blood, to receive every affront and 
 humiliation, to flatter, to be more courtly and diplo- 
 matic in manner than any diplomat ; the while raging 
 internally, filled with uncontrollable pride and savage 
 revolt at everything that opposed him. It was of itself 
 a penance to him to have always to converse in French, 
 for it was the only language of the court, and he who 
 spoke Russian ran the risk of being looked upon as a 
 conspirator, or, worse, " member of a learned society." 
 And he hated the French with a deadly hatred ! Their 
 language, dress, manners, music, drinks, diplomats, their 
 drama and their philosophy ! Then, too, he had care- 
 fully to keep watch over every word he uttered and 
 every glass he put to his lips. Not only lest the con- 
 tents of the glass should be poisoned, but for fear of 
 drinking too much ! For he knew that the true man 
 spake in him when he was in liquor. Even worse, he 
 had to ape the ascetic ; for women's charms were an 
 arch snare, in which his enemies would fain have trapped 
 him. Thus he lived like a recluse, with the appetites 
 of a Sardanapalus. And when, flying court atmosphere 
 for a brief respite, he could seek refuge at home in his 
 Eleusinian den, and, throwing off the affectations of the 
 French language, dress, and mask, he was free to re- 
 sume the despised native Russian costume, and talk the 
 good old true Novgorod dialect, in which the republican 
 
DAIMONA 329 
 
 peasant of those days abused Czar and yeoman alike, 
 he felt himself happy. Then he could vie with his 
 well-mated companion in good round oaths, beat her in 
 the morning, kiss and make friends in the afternoon 
 over the flogging of the peasants, men-servants, and 
 stewards who came in their way, and get drunk together 
 at night. Daimona was a match for him in every form 
 of excess. If he were violent, she incited him to in- 
 creased violence ; if he would vent his wrath on some 
 one, she found him a human object on which to vent 
 it, seconding him with all a woman's refinement of 
 cruelty. 
 
 When the master showed his face at Grusino there 
 was a hurrying and scurrying hither and thither, lam- 
 entations, groans, and blows; eating and drinking 
 to excess ; music and dancing through the streets ; 
 battues, dog -fights, mad revels of every description, 
 and at least one swacha (girl market). For the 
 Sultana provided her Padishah with his Feast of 
 Bairam. 
 
 In fine, Prince Alexis Andreovitch found in the hid- 
 eous Daimona his other self; and this made her more 
 precious to him than all the beauties under the sun. 
 
 One day that fine fellow Zsabakoff presented himself, 
 with countless bowings and cringings, before the mighty 
 Daimona. Not this time in the torn garments in which 
 he slipped into Pushkin's quarters, but attired as a man 
 of position. He possessed different costumes for the 
 different parts he had to play. 
 
 Herr Zsabakoff came to Daimona because he had 
 learned that the Czar was sending an army against the 
 Turks. The fact was known to none, not even to 
 Araktseieff ; only one man knew of it, and that was the 
 Czars groom of the chambers, the same worthy indi- 
 
330 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 vidual who one evening had lent young Araktseieff the 
 Czar's Vladimir star. This worthy groom of the cham- 
 bers often did his friends a good turn. Thus, for in- 
 stance, it was solely to do Herr Zsabakoff a kindness 
 that he gave a glance at the Czar's papers while ar- 
 ranging them on his writing-table. What he there saw, 
 no one, not even the ministers, knew ; nor did he pro- 
 claim it with beating of drums, but he sold the informa- 
 tion without more ado. There is no reason for sur- 
 prise at this. Other times, other manners. At that time 
 it had happened that university professors had been 
 known to distribute to students on one day answers to 
 the questions to be put to them on the next. But in 
 this affair Herr Zsabakoff was not interested to specu- 
 late as to whether the Hellenic champions of freedom 
 would be able to hold Missolonghi until the Russian 
 army had advanced to their aid, but merely whether the 
 Czar's plan that every soldier, besides his customary 
 kit, should carry a flask as a necessary equipment in 
 campaign consequently three hundred thousand metal 
 flasks would be required. The contractor would make 
 his fortune. 
 
 But the honest groom of the chambers had not only 
 communicated this secret intelligence to friend Zsa- 
 bakoff, but also to many other similar friends, who 
 probably were hurrying on the production of flasks by 
 day and night, for in the course of a fortnight they 
 must be ready. Naturally it would not be the lowest 
 contract which would obtain the order, but he who best 
 greased the wheels of the Intendant-General's carriage. 
 Herr Zsabakoff now came to the influential lady to en- 
 treat her to use her powers with the potent Intendant- 
 General to persuade the Czar to have wooden flasks made 
 instead of the unwholesome metal ones. Thus, at one 
 
DAIMONA 331 
 
 fell swoop, would disappear all his metal-flask rivals ; 
 Zsabakoff would remain in possession of the field, and 
 could demand his own price. In order to lend empha- 
 sis to his request he had brought a little present with 
 him which would exactly become its charming wearer 
 an antique brilliant ferronniere, in the centre of which 
 was an exquisite solitaire of unusual fire. 
 
 "Of course that is merely earnest-money," said the 
 mistress of the house. "You are aware that in the 
 case of such a large transaction I go shares in the 
 profit." 
 
 " Your Excellency has taken the very words out of 
 my mouth. Depend and rely on it, I am straightforward 
 with you I always speak the truth. I always do the 
 honest thing. Why, then, should I deny it ? Accord- 
 ing to the price of my contract I gain half a griva on 
 every flask ; of that I will make over two copecks to your 
 Excellency." 
 
 "I tell you what, you make your contract so that 
 it brings you in a whole griva apiece, and give me four 
 copecks on each." 
 
 Herr Zsabakoff agreed to this proposition. But Dai- 
 mona was 'none too delicate of her guests' feelings. 
 One of her slaves was a jeweller, and expert in precious 
 stones. Him she sent for, and, in ZsabakofFs presence, 
 had the ornament valued. This was her custom. She 
 kept the slave specially for that office. The expert 
 valued it at one thousand five hundred rubles ; but had 
 the centre stone been pure water instead of yellow it 
 would have been worth two thousand. 
 
 "You don't understand anything about it !" screamed 
 Zsabakoff. " Yellow diamonds are unique ; they are 
 called * fantaisie.' Besides, it is an antique, and great 
 people like antiques best." 
 
332 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 "Quite true. All the same, a pure-water solitaire 
 would be worth five hundred rubles more." 
 
 " Do you hear ?" quoth Daimona. " Don't forget next 
 time to exchange it for a handsomer and costlier one. 
 And then I prefer it set in gold to this silver setting." 
 
 Zsabakoff promised to obey her behests, and took 
 his leave with as much kissing of hands and feet as 
 though he had received instead of given. 
 
 Some weeks later Zsabakoff came back more amiable 
 and deferential than the first time. 
 
 " My word is as good as my bond," said he. " Instead 
 of that worn-out old ferronniere I bring you a brand-new 
 one. Look at this stone, your Excellency. What a fire ! 
 how pure ! a perfect Golconda brilliant ! It dazzles the 
 eyes like sunlight." 
 
 And he went on crying up the new ornament until 
 Daimona gave him back the old one for it. 
 
 "You may have this examined. I am positive your 
 goldsmith will value it at three thousand rubles. And, 
 in fact, it cost every penny as much. But I don't 
 grudge it you. All I ask is that you write his Excel- 
 lency by your special courier, post-haste, that the mat- 
 ter must be at once decided. It is in your own inter- 
 est. For every field-flask you make four copecks. I 
 am off; I have not a moment to lose." 
 
 And once more recommending the flasks to her Ex- 
 cellency's immediate attention, Herr Zsabakoff, rushing 
 out, jumped into his carriage, drawn by three horses, 
 and drove off as if possessed. This time he did not 
 wait for Daimona to summon the jeweller. 
 
 Daimona was in haste to write to Araktseieff anent 
 the flasks. But writing with her was a slow process ; the 
 pen did not readily obey her untutored fingers. Only 
 when the letter was finished did she submit the jewels 
 
DAIMONA 333 
 
 to her goldsmith. He, suspiciously examining the fer- 
 ronnib'e, begged permission to test it in his laboratory ; 
 then told her that, to a jeweller, it would be worth about 
 three rubles. The brilliants were only Strasburg paste; 
 the setting plated, not gold. 
 
 Daimona, at first, was merely surprised ; she could 
 not believe the man mad enough to deceive her in a 
 matter concerning three hundred thousand flasks. It 
 was such a clumsy trick, such an unheard-of affront. A 
 trinket worth three rubles was only the kind of present 
 that would be given to a vivandiere. 
 
 " Hi, Schinko!" screeched Daimona. Whereupon her 
 factotum appeared, a handsome, muscular fellow of 
 the unmistakable gypsy type. " Take a horse at once, 
 take three mounted men with you, and follow the man 
 who just drove off with three horses abreast ! Seize, 
 bind, bring him back. See you do not come back with- 
 out him !" 
 
 The next instant 'the gypsy was on a horse, without 
 saddle, galloping for his life. His three followers could 
 scarce keep up with him. Daimona was satisfied that 
 Schinko would soon come up with Zsabakoff. 
 
 But within scarce half an hour the three horsemen, 
 with Schinko at their head, came back the way they 
 had gone, and behind them a troika in which sat a man 
 alone. But not as a prisoner did they bring him ; it was 
 the other way about, he drove them before him. From 
 time to time he kept putting his head out of the carriage, 
 threatening the galloping horsemen so ominously with his 
 stick that, as fast as their horses would go they tore home- 
 ward, looking back now and again with scared faces. 
 
 " What's the meaning of this ?" shrieked Daimona, furi- 
 ously pacing the hall. " Schinko ! You hounds ! What, 
 run away you let yourselves be driven back by one man ?" 
 
334 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Yes, when it is that " one " man ! Arrived at the cas- 
 tle, and flinging back the leathern apron of the troika, 
 he sprang up from his seat, roaring with all the power of 
 his lungs after the runaways. 
 
 " You fellows ! Just you wait ! I'll teach you to molest 
 travellers in broad daylight on the emperor's highway. 
 A hundred lashes of the knout for each of you ! I'll 
 have you all fastened to the handle of the pump. Bo- 
 jiriks, Bontshiks, thieves that ye are !" 
 
 It was "he" the master AraktseiefT himself. Dai- 
 mona was more furious than ever. Rushing down the 
 entrance steps into the courtyard beneath, she stood, 
 gasping for breath, before the new-comer. 
 
 " Why did you hound back my people ? They were 
 pursuing a thief who had robbed me ! He brought me 
 false stones and stole the real ones. I will have him 
 brought back the thief." 
 
 But the master of the house paid no attention to her. 
 When he was abusing some one, whoever it might be, he 
 had no thought for anything else. His face was crimson 
 as he alighted from his carriage, holding in one hand a 
 stout knotted stick, in the other a flask by its strap. 
 
 Daimona thought him informed of the whole affair, so, 
 seizing him by the collar of his cloak v she continued : 
 
 " It was Zsabakoff do you hear ? Zsabakoff ! You 
 surely have not given him the flasks yet ?" 
 
 " Flasks ?" retorted Araktseieff, amazed. " I've only 
 got this one ; and I can't offer you anything from it, for 
 it's empty." 
 
 " Oh, the devil take you ! The three hundred thou- 
 sand flasks, I mean, that the army are to have in the 
 Turkish War." 
 
 And now he was more astonished than ever. 
 
 "Three hundred thousand flasks? War? Give your- 
 
DAIMONA 335 
 
 self time to breathe. What have you been drinking to- 
 day?" 
 
 The woman cursed and raved. In a medley of 
 words she mixed up weeks and months, copecks and 
 flasks, diamonds worth two thousand rubles, Misso- 
 longhi and Omer Brione Pasha, and stormed on so 
 long that at length her lord and master, in a fury, 
 flinging his empty flask at her, pushed her aside; 
 whereupon Daimona, to recover her wounded feelings, 
 fell upon the jeweller, and struck his head with the 
 corpus delicti, the paste tiara. Why had he said that a 
 yellow diamond was not as good as a white one ? It 
 was all his fault that the thief had stolen the real one 
 and made off with it. 
 
 And this was the affectionate reception of the weary 
 statesman to his home. Perhaps others have shared 
 his experiences who shall say ? 
 
 However, at supper they made it up again ; and 
 Daimona recounted to him the history of the field- 
 flasks. 
 
 "Well, my dear hen'.' this was his pet name for Dai- 
 mona "you know more about it than I do, whose prov- 
 ince it is, as Intendant-General, to see to the fitting out 
 of the army. I am on leave from court ostensibly on 
 account of my health. This that scoundrel Zsabakoff 
 knew, hence he got back his present to you. He knew 
 that I am 'very' ill just now." 
 
 " But what's the matter with you ?" 
 
 " The matter is, that I am a follower of the Czar." 
 
 " Try to get cured of that ailment." 
 
 " I know that I shall soon be recalled, and very soon 
 fall back into my old ailment." 
 
 " Bungler ! If only you had kept the Czar's favor 
 until the field-flask contract had been delivered !" 
 
336 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " Bah ! Say no more about it. Sing me something 
 nice. It's so long since I heard a woman's voice." 
 
 Alexis Andreovitch really meant it when he said he 
 wanted to hear Daimona sing. Now, the screech of a 
 peacock was a swan's song compared with Daimona's 
 croak. Her voice was out of tune, throaty, and harsh ; 
 but if it pleased her lord, what matter ? And then the 
 words of her song, with its refrain, " Give him a taste of 
 the knife !" In truth, an extraordinary ditty to choose ; 
 and that it should just have come into Daimona's head! 
 Yet what so extraordinary in it, after all, for the fallen 
 favorite's chere amie to choose a revolutionary song, 
 when he had been dismissed from court by his imperial 
 master, and when the matter of the flasks was not settled ? 
 Surely reason enough that he who yesterday kissed the 
 dust from off the tyrant's feet to-day should throw it 
 back in his face ! 
 
 And the fallen favorite did not interrupt her. He 
 listened to every verse, enjoying the last so much that 
 he chuckled with delight. 
 
 " Where did you hear that ridiculous thing ?" 
 
 "You thick -head! Can't you guess? Didn't you 
 yourself send the gypsy girl to me to be educated ? We 
 have made a thorough success of it." 
 
 " Right. Among the many pleasures that await me 
 here is carrying on that joke to the bitter end. She 
 drove my son to Archangel ! Not a word have I heard 
 from him yet. What have you been doing to the 
 wench ?" 
 
 Just what you directed. If you want some fun we'll 
 have her in." 
 
 " Nothing better just now." 
 
 Daimona sent a man in search of Diabolka. Mean- 
 while she whispered something to Alexis Andreovitch, 
 
DAIMONA 337 
 
 her painted eyebrows dancing with fiendish glee as she 
 did so. 
 
 Araktseieff seemed to enter fully into the joke ; he 
 laughed so loud that he made himself quite hoarse, and, 
 striking his fist on the table, shouted : 
 
 " Good ! Excellent ! By Jove ! That '11 be worth see- 
 ing!" 
 
 Both were looking grave when the girl came in. She 
 was hardly recognizable. A young lady in a long dress, 
 wearing mittens, on her head the snood of a Russian 
 maiden. She held both hands, in national style, hidden 
 in the long sleeves of her dress, only withdrawing them 
 to kiss the hand of her master and mistress. Her eyes 
 she kept modestly fixed on the ground. 
 
 " Well, dear child, and how do you like being under 
 your mistress's protection ?" 
 
 In a low whisper the girl answered : 
 
 " Thanks be to my gracious master for having sent 
 me where I am so happy." 
 
 Araktseieff could scarce repress his laughter. 
 
 " You speak like a book." 
 
 " That is not my merit, but that of the reverend Herr 
 Prokop, who has spared no pains to give me the benefit 
 of his instruction." 
 
 " Ei, ei ! You are quite a fine young lady, I see. 
 You must sit down and have supper with us. Come, 
 don't be shy ! Here, you long-legged fellow, set a cover 
 for the young lady ! Here, you lout ! Opposite me." 
 
 "It will be a great honor to your unworthy maid- 
 servant to be permitted to sit at table with you ; but I 
 must ask forgiveness if I eat nothing. Good Father 
 Prokop has inflicted the penance on me of eating no 
 supper for a whole year." 
 
 " For what sin ?" 
 
 22 
 
338 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 The girl heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 "Your Excellency! you know the great sin I have 
 committed, and for which I never can atone." And she 
 sank her head remorsefully. 
 
 Was she really penitent, or was it only hypocrisy ? 
 
 " And what do you do while others are having their 
 meal ?" 
 
 " I read the Psalms to them." 
 
 " What ! you can read already ? and the Psalms into 
 the bargain ! I should like to hear that. Bring her a 
 Psalm-book. Now sit here and read. Which one is it ?" 
 
 The girl, sitting down as she was bid, rested the 
 finger-tip of one hand daintily on the table, while with 
 the forefinger of the other she marked the syllables as 
 she read, " Lord, the hea-then are come in-to thine in- 
 her-i-tance." 
 
 " Wonderful ! But do you understand what you are 
 reading about? Who are the 'heathen ' ?" 
 
 "The l^urks!" The girl spat out the words, as be- 
 seems an orthodox Muscovite. 
 
 "Who is the 'Lord'?" 
 
 Rising, the girl answered : 
 
 "Our august master, the Czar." 
 
 "And what is his ' inheritance ' ?" 
 
 " Greece." 
 
 " Very good," returned her master. " How well you 
 have learned to read ! And can you write too ? And so 
 that you need no one to guide your hand, as when you 
 wrote your first letter ? Ha, ha ! That was a joke !" 
 
 Then, turning to Daimona, he said, so that Diabolka 
 should hear : 
 
 " Why, you have made quite a lady of her." 
 
 " And I mean to make a good Christian of her, too," 
 responded Daimona. 
 
DAIMONA 339 
 
 Diabolka, seeming not to hear, went on spelling out 
 her psalm. 
 
 "Come forward, Schinko !" Daimona commanded the 
 man standing behind her chair. " Now, have I not 
 selected a good-looking husband for her ?" 
 
 "Ah! I sent him to you, too, my lady. Is he not a 
 certain ' cousin ' of your ward's ?" 
 
 "That's why I treat him so well. A fine youth! I 
 have no more faithful servant than he. The peasantry 
 fear him like the very devil. He is my right hand." 
 
 "Then I can guess how many floggings he has already 
 administered to them." 
 
 " I will give them their wedding. Then I mean to 
 make Schinko my house-steward and Diabolka my confi- 
 dential maid." 
 
 " I will provide the wedding presents." 
 
 Diabolka continued reading her psalm without inter- 
 ruption. Any other girl at least would have simpered 
 when she heard talk of her wedding in presence of her 
 bridegroom. 
 
 " Now we'll finish up supper with a little singing and 
 dancing," said the mistress of the house, signing to 
 Schinko. 
 
 " Ah ! Can Diabolka not only sing sacred songs, but 
 dance too?" 
 
 " She neither sings nor dances ; she has another call- 
 ing. There is some one else to do that." 
 
 Hereupon twelve pretty young peasant girls entered 
 from a side -door, each with a lute in her hand, their 
 faces expressing more repressed fear than pleasurable 
 expectation. Behind them slid Schinko, a long whip 
 in one hand, the other leading a small, humpbacked 
 dwarf on a chain, like a bear, with a bagpipe under his 
 arm. He was hideously ugly, with a hump behind and 
 
340 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 before, his large bald head sunk between his high shoul- 
 ders. His face was the caricature of a man's face, and 
 so distorted with small-pox that it seemed as if the linea- 
 ments, being so grotesque, the fell disease had tried to 
 wipe them out ; here and there remained a tuft of beard 
 and whisker; he had but one eye. He was revolting 
 to look upon; but when his cheeks distended with the 
 bagpipe he was a perfect monster. A worthier per- 
 former on the bleating goat-skin could scarcely be imag- 
 ined. 
 
 " That's classical music," said the master ; " but what 
 about the dancing ?" 
 
 " Wait a minute. That's the best." 
 
 Going out once more, Schinko returned with the bal- 
 lerina assolnta, gripping her by the nape of the neck 
 that she might not bite his hand. She was a deformity 
 in woman's shape a humpbacked dwarf, with long 
 arms reaching to the ground ; her stump nose hardly 
 visible; matted- hair growing down to her eyebrows; 
 her mouth awry with great protruding teeth add to 
 this an evil, bestial stamp on all her features. Such 
 was the creature who was to perform a ballet for the 
 amusement of the lord of Grusino. She was clad in a 
 dress of gold paper ; therefore it did not matter if she 
 tore it. She had been taught to dance as monkeys are, 
 and knew she had to do it. 
 
 " Blow away, Vuk ! Dance, Polyka !" cried Daimona, 
 clapping her hands ; and as the bagpipe began its mel- 
 ody the dancer began her parody of a ballet-dancer, 
 making such pirouettes that with her long arms, not her 
 feet, she chased away the chorus, accompanying the 
 bagpipe with their voices. 
 
 " Hopsa ! hopsa !" cried Schinko, every now and then, 
 and touched up the calves of the dancer's legs* with the 
 
DAIMONA 341 
 
 point of his whip, if she did not spring high enough in 
 the air, at which she made furious grimaces. 
 
 Araktseieff and Daimona sank back in their chairs 
 with laughter. The great statesman, the pattern of as- 
 tute diplomacy, drummed his spurs on the table in his 
 mirth ; while Diabolka, without raising her eyes, ever 
 continued spelling out her psalm, as though nothing 
 were going on about her. 
 
 At the close of this edifying performance the female 
 monstrosity caught hold of the male by the collar of his 
 coat, and twirled him and his instrument round in a 
 waltz, Schinko cracking his whip the while, as though 
 he were in a circus. 
 
 " Well, these two will make a pretty couple, too, I 
 declare !" laughed the master. " We will celebrate both 
 weddings together." 
 
 Upon which Daimona gave him such a sharp pinch 
 on his arm that he cried out. 
 
 The very next day Diabolka's wedding-dress was put 
 in hand. All Daimona's female serfs were at work upon 
 it. Diabolka now usually dined at the minister's table 
 when he entertained the notables of the neighborhood, 
 all of whom were welcome guests when they could pre- 
 vail upon themselves to kiss Daimona's hand. A dear 
 repast, in truth ! 
 
 But his guests had still more to put up with. When 
 Araktseieff had drunk too much he would grow quarrel- 
 some and come to blows with them. All the same, they 
 would come back again next day and meet the same 
 fate. A still costlier price to pay ! 
 
 Schinko was the chief flogger of the palace ; he had 
 to execute all the scourging, whipping, and lashing with 
 the knout. It was his office. He had no choice but to 
 carry out orders. If his master ordered him to thrash 
 
34 2 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 corn, he must do it ; if to thrash mujiks, he must thrash 
 them. Lucky that it was his part to administer, not to 
 receive, the lash. Moreover, he was a gypsy ; and gyp- 
 sies, it is known, have stronger nerves than other men. 
 
 The eve of the wedding-day Daimona commanded 
 Diabolka to try on her gay wedding-dress, and to show 
 herself in it to the master. 
 
 He admired it, and gave the girl a slap on the cheek. 
 
 " Do you see ? I am glad you have grown at last 
 into a respectable young woman. I raised you out of 
 the mire into which you had sunk. Is it not a good 
 thing to have become a well-behaved girl ?" 
 
 And Diabolka, falling on her knees before him, kissed 
 his feet. 
 
 " Nice to be a bride, eh ? Now you love your cousin 
 Schinko, don't you ?" 
 
 The girl hid her face in confusion. 
 
 " Well, show how you can give a kiss. Where's 
 Schinko?" 
 
 But Diabolka would not be kissed. Schinko might 
 wait till he was married. 
 
 " A sensible girl," said her master, praising her. 
 " Now take her to the priest, that she may tell her pray- 
 ers and confess. To-morrow morning her bridesmaids 
 and groomsmen shall fetch her back. You go with her, 
 Schinko !" 
 
 After she had gone, Daimona sent for the other bridal 
 couple. They were worthy of each other, Vuk and Po- 
 lyka. 
 
 The humpbacked bridegroom was dressed in a hand- 
 some seal-skin coat reaching down to his toes, his cap 
 adorned with a pair of hare's ears ; while the bride, with 
 mouth all awry, was attired as a Turkish odalisque, mak- 
 ing her more hideous than ever. 
 
DAIMONA 343 
 
 "Upon my word, they're a handsome couple !" laughed 
 Araktseieff. " I wonder if that great hunch will prevent 
 her kissing him?" 
 
 "That doesn't matter," returned Daimona ; "her 
 arms are long enough to pull out his hair." 
 
 Nor did it need much encouragement for her to try it 
 even before marriage ; a word would have sufficed to 
 give proof of their connubial tenderness. 
 
 " It will be rare fun to-morrow !" said Daimona. 
 
 " A splendid idea," chimed in her lord. 
 
 " Are you satisfied with it ?" 
 
 " It's a masterwork." 
 
 " Well, if you love me, do as I do." 
 
 When was he not ready to do it ? It was the reason 
 the brutal pair loved each other so well that there was 
 nothing so mad devised by the one that the other was 
 not ready to join in. 
 
 Song followed the carousal. Daimona began the 
 Knife Song, and Araktseieff joined in the chorus. 
 
 For the sweetest of all the forbidden fruit of the tree 
 of knowledge is when a smooth courtier, whose wont is to 
 flatter, to bow, and to scrape, in the privacy of his cham- 
 ber can tune up a revolutionary song, and blacken his 
 sovereign and fellow-courtiers to his heart's content. 
 
 " Let's have it over again ! Where's a glass ?" He 
 always dashed his empty glasses against the wall. But 
 instead of the glass, Schinko brought on his silver sal- 
 ver a letter, which a mounted messenger had just de- 
 livered. 
 
 Araktseieff at once knew the handwriting on the cover. 
 Releasing himself from Daimona's arms, he sprang up 
 from the divan, and, hastily wiping his mouth, pressed 
 the letter to his lips and forehead ; then said, in a hollow 
 voice : 
 
344 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 "Give me the scissors." 
 
 "What do you want with scissors? Break it open 
 with your fingers." 
 
 "Give me the scissors when I ask for them !" shouted 
 he, angrily, and snatched roughly at the pair hanging 
 from Daimona's girdle. And as with trembling hand 
 he cut the seal, he said, feverishly, " One does not 
 break the Czar's seal." 
 
 " The Czar's seal ?" repeated Daimona, astounded. 
 
 It did not take Araktseieff long to read his letter. 
 Besides the signature were two words only " Come 
 back !" 
 
 " Bring water ! Cold water !" he said, imperiously, to 
 Schinko. And as he, not knowing the wherefore, re- 
 turned with a bucket of water, his master, seizing the 
 utensil with both hands, took a deep draught from it. 
 
 Daimona's astonishment increased more and more. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" 
 
 " I must set off this very instant !" gasped Araktseieff. 
 " Hurry, Schinko ; let them put the horses to ; twelve 
 horsemen to accompany me with torches ; and one to 
 ride on before to secure post-horses. Fly !" 
 
 " You are going away ?" asked Daimona, amazed. 
 
 "Instantly ! The Czar commands !" 
 
 " And you hurry back at his request ?" 
 
 "As a Cossack pony answers to his master's whistle." 
 
 " And will not be taking part in to-morrow's sport ?" 
 
 " I must deny myself the gratification." 
 
 " You are going to leave me ?" asked she, reproach- 
 fully. " You do not love me any more ?" 
 
 "The Czar has deigned to write with his own hand," 
 returned Araktseieff, handing her the letter. 
 
 " What do I care about his writing ?" screamed 
 Daimona; and, snatching at the letter, she cut out a 
 
DAIMONA 345 
 
 piece with her scissors, which so enraged Araktseieff 
 that he struck her violently on the hand. 
 
 " You have struck me ! You are going away, arid 
 have struck me !" And, turning her face away, the wom- 
 an wept bitterly. 
 
 But Araktseieff had no time to pacify her now. 
 
 " Seisasz ! This means that the crisis is past." 
 
 Had there been an ocean before him he must have 
 swam across it. How much more, then, a few woman's 
 tears ! 
 
 The celebration of a double wedding will come off, 
 but he will not be there to enjoy the fun. 
 
 " Quick, quick, Schinko ! Then come to my room to 
 shave me." 
 
 While at Grusino the minister was in the habit of 
 letting his beard and mustache grow to please Daimona ; 
 but always had it shaved off before returning to St. 
 Petersburg. 
 
 " Take care you don't cut me with your razor," were 
 his first words to Schinko, as he began. Schinko was 
 the only one there to whom he intrusted his throat. 
 " If you slash my face I'll shoot you dead." 
 
 His two travelling -pistols lay close to his hand. 
 Schinko was cautious, and completed the operation with- 
 out disfiguring his master's face. A lucky thing for 
 Araktseieff. For the gypsy was resolved at the slight- 
 est slip of his razor to cut his master's throat, that he 
 might not have the chance to carry out his threat. 
 Never had Araktseieff been nearer to his grave. 
 
 As he finished, the bells on the horses' necks were 
 heard in the courtyard below. 
 
 Thrusting the Czar's letter into his breast-pocket, 
 Araktseieff hurried away to say good-bye to Daimona. 
 
 She had locked herself up in the room. 
 
346 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " I have gone to bed." 
 
 " Then good-bye, my dear !" He had no time for 
 more. 
 
 Daimona, from her window, could see the carriage 
 dash away, with its escort of torch-bearers. 
 
 It was pitch-dark, the rain coming down in torrents 
 weather in which one would not have sent out a scul- 
 lion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 IT'S NOT THE KNIFE ALONE THAT STRIKES TO THE 
 HEART 
 
 ARAKTSEIEFF, on arrival at the palace, was received 
 by Chevalier Galban. 
 
 " What has happened here ?" he asked, as he changed 
 his travelling-dress for his uniform. 
 
 " A startling change. Since his daughter's death the 
 Czar has become reconciled to the Czarina, and is with 
 her constantly. Every diplomatic action has been broken 
 off. The Greek deputation has not been received, the 
 commanding officers of the various regiments of the 
 guards have been despatched back to their colonies." 
 
 " And what do the women say to all this ? That's the 
 main point." 
 
 "The women are cleucedly hard to get at just now. 
 Since the reconciliation of the Czar and Czarina, do- 
 mestic fidelity has become the rage in St. Petersburg. 
 Every man is seen driving out with his wife. Even Prin- 
 cess Ghedimin ostentatiously parades everywhere on her 
 husband's arm, and conducts herself so prudishly that 
 she scarce returns my bow." 
 
 " And Zeneida ?" 
 
NOT THE KNIFE ALONE STRIKES TO THE HEART 347 
 
 " Is in disgrace. The court chamberlain has inti- 
 mated that it would not give displeasure in high quarters 
 if she were to pass the coming season under a more 
 genial clime. Upon which she at once sent back her 
 credentials as court singer. She is having a sale of 
 her furniture, and is preparing for immediate depart- 
 ure." 
 
 " And the cause of disgrace ?" 
 
 " Pushkin. You are aware that he was to haye mar- 
 ried Sophie Narishkin ?" 
 
 " That is it was a piece of medical jugglery. They 
 proposed to prolong the invalid's life and make it hap- 
 pier by her betrothal." 
 
 "All the same, Pushkin was her husband elect, and 
 the Czar was deeply hurt that the very day of Princess 
 Sophie's funeral Pushkin should go and get married to 
 the lovely Bethsaba, whom he ran away with from the 
 Ghedimins' !" 
 
 " Hullo ! So he ran away with the little Circassian 
 princess !" 
 
 "The Czar was very cut up at his heartlessness. 
 Hence his displeasure with Fraulein Ilmarinen." 
 
 " But what had she to do with it?" 
 
 " She was witness to the marriage." 
 
 " What, she ? And she who worshipped Pushkin ! 
 That is a dangerous woman !" 
 
 " Fortunately she can't do much harm now. She 
 begged an audience of the Czar ; but his Majesty an- 
 swered that he would only receive her in your pres- 
 ence." 
 
 " Then it shall be a hot reception for her ! Thanks 
 for the good news !" 
 
 And Araktseieff hastened off to the Hermitage, where 
 the Czar was to be found before noon. 
 
348 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Alexander extended his hand with emotion to the re- 
 turned favorite, who had travelled night and day to obey 
 his behest. 
 
 " My only true friend !" he said, in a low voice. 
 
 " Not the only one, sire. The Czarina stands first." 
 
 " You are right. We have come together again, and 
 I am only beginning to learn that in her I have won back 
 a whole world. I grudge the moments which this pile 
 of drafts causes me to spend from her." 
 
 " I am at your orders, sire !" 
 
 " That will greatly help. Just you look through this 
 sheaf of papers, which I can make nothing of, and exe- 
 cute everything according to your own judgment." 
 
 " I will not stir from here before I have gone through 
 them all." 
 
 "Among them you will find a petition for a farewell 
 audience from Fraulein Ilmarinen. Answer in my name 
 that I am willing to receive her, but solely in your pres- 
 ence. Now I am off to church, where I shall meet the 
 Czarina. We are holding a requiem mass for poor So- 
 phie Narishkin." 
 
 Araktseieff made feint to be hearing this for the first 
 time; and in consequence of the melancholy surprise 
 went through a theatrical scene of up-turned eyes and 
 exclamations, ending up with, as he kissed the hand of 
 the Czar, " I feel that my heart is torn out of my body 
 at this mournful news, sire !" He was the only man 
 in the world who secretly exulted over the news of the 
 unhappy child's death. 
 
 The Czar left him alone in his study; and the favor- 
 ite found many more important matters to attend to 
 than Zeneida's petition. From the multitudinous papers 
 it was plain to see that when the cat's away the mice 
 begin to play. Everything was tending to lead the Czar 
 
NOT THE KNIFE ALONE STRIKES TO THE HEART 349 
 
 back to the paths of liberalism. Here must the first 
 clearance be made ! 
 
 A few days later Zeneida was surprised, in the midst 
 of her packing, by a visit from Jakuskin. 
 
 " I have come to tell you how glad I am that you are 
 leaving us." 
 
 " A singular kind of farewell." 
 
 " But comprehensible ! It is well for you that you are 
 going ; and well for us, too. The role you were playing 
 is at an end, and I am glad of it !" 
 
 " So it seems." . 
 
 " Araktseieff is returned, and his iron hand is wielded 
 over our heads. You, fair Madonna, had exiled him 
 with your refined arts. Now it has become evident that 
 the refinement of intrigue does not pay in our atmos- 
 phere. The old tyrant is back, and the Czar more com- 
 pletely in his power than ever." 
 
 " I know it. I have had intimation that a farewell 
 audience will only be accorded me in his presence." 
 
 " And you are going ?" 
 
 " Decidedly. I must reconcile the Czar with Push- 
 kin." 
 
 " Is that your only reason ?" 
 
 " What else keeps me here ?" 
 
 " The wish to depose friend Araktseieff." 
 
 " I have no power to do that." 
 
 " Well, then, I have." 
 
 " By violence ?" 
 
 "It is already done. To-morrow morning will no 
 longer see him in St. Petersburg. I have struck him 
 to the heart, and not with a dagger. His fate is already 
 sealed. He is dead and buried already, though he has 
 no idea of it. Read this letter." 
 
 Zeneida's face changed from ghastly white to fiery red 
 
35 TH E GREEN BOOK 
 
 as she hastily perused the letter handed her by Jakuskin. 
 Her lips parted with surprise and horror as she read. 
 
 " You are terrible men !" stammered she, as she gave 
 it back. 
 
 " We understand what we are about, eh ?" 
 
 "And he knows nothing of it?" 
 
 "There is not a man about him who dares to make it 
 known to him. Diabolka wrote me herself. I have 
 copied her letter and sent the whole affair to the Czar 
 through the Sophien post. May he learn it from the 
 lips of the Czar or, what is still more probable, may it 
 fall into his own hands in opening the Czar's letters. 
 Ah, Zeneida ! If only he received the letter at the very 
 time that you were having audience ! If only you could 
 see him then ! Oh, I could fain envy you the satisfac- 
 tion of that moment !" 
 
 Zeneida's audience was appointed for the next day. 
 It was the Czar's usual habit, on leaving Monplaisir at 
 five in the afternoon, to pass a short time at the Her- 
 mitage, which stood near the Winter Palace and had 
 been a favorite resort of Catherine II. His library here, 
 where he transacted business, was furnished very simply. 
 Hither were brought to him the letters which came by 
 the Sophien post. The apartment was now reserved to 
 AraktseiefFs use, who sat there from morning to evening 
 settling, on his own responsibility, the affairs of the vast 
 empire in the name of the Czar. Matters of home and 
 foreign policy, religion, education, trade, finance, all 
 were dependent on his sole will ; ministers and stadt 
 holders alike his puppets. Alexander would take no 
 part in anything signing, unread, whatever Araktseieff 
 laid before him. Those drafts laid aside by him were 
 mere waste paper. 
 
NOT THE KNIFE ALONE STRIKES TO THE HEART 351 
 
 To-day, too, found the favorite hard at work at the 
 Czar's own writing-table, Alexander restlessly pacing 
 the room, for Fraulein Ilmarinen alone had been grant- 
 ed audience that day. 
 
 Zeneida presented herself at the appointed hour. She 
 was dressed in deep mourning, her golden hair forming 
 a striking contrast to her sombre attire. 
 
 The Czar advanced to meet her, but received her with 
 marked coldness. 
 
 AraktseiefT feigned not to see her ; did not lift his 
 eyes from the papers before him. 
 
 ''Fraulein Ilmarinen," said Alexander, "you desired 
 to speak with me personally. You may speak." 
 
 " Will your Majesty forgive the boldness of my re- 
 quest, but I have papers to place before you which 
 the owner intrusted to me on sole condition that I de- 
 livered them personally into your own hands. These 
 papers form the diary of the late Princess Sophie Na- 
 rishkin !" 
 
 With a deep sigh the Czar exclaimed, " Poor child !" 
 his voice trembling with agitation. 
 
 " It was her last wish, and I must fulfil it." 
 
 " You were with her, then, in her last hours ?" 
 
 " And afterwards. She had sent for me." 
 
 " It was you who closed her eyes?" 
 
 Zeneida bowed her head silently. 
 
 " I thank you," said the Czar, and, taking from her the 
 white-bound diary, he held out his hand to her a soft, 
 thin hand but the action was not a cordial one. 
 
 Zeneida kissed the hand. 
 
 " Have you any wish, Fraulein Ilmarinen ?" 
 
 " Only one, sire ! That you should graciously please 
 to read the last three pages of Sophie's diary in my pres- 
 
352 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 The Czar glanced back, as though to ask Araktseieff's 
 permission. Then only did he resolve to accede to her 
 wish, and, opening the diary, he read. 
 
 He bit his lips to conceal his emotion. But Zeneida 
 well knew what it was he was reading ; she knew the 
 whole contents of the diary, as well as those last con- 
 fused lines written by the convulsed hand of an unhappy 
 child, looking forward with yearning and dread to the 
 cold embrace of death. And the Czar, as he concluded 
 the last page, looking up at Zeneida, saw that her eyes 
 were filled with tears. 
 
 Mutely he nodded his head and sighed. 
 
 " She wanted me to read this to exonerate Pushkin, 
 did she not ? She wished it so. She had a great, noble 
 soul !" 
 
 "Indeed she had, sire !" 
 
 " And it was at her desire ; and Pushkin was only ful- 
 filling her last wishes in acting as he did ?" 
 
 " He could not have done otherwise." 
 
 " I believe it. He could not have done otherwise. 
 And yet I cannot reconcile myself to the thought that 
 he did it that in the very same hour that he had 
 covered the face of one bride with the funereal veil he 
 could draw the bridal veil over the face of the other ! 
 He had to do it! And yet it seems incomprehensible 
 to human understanding how there can be a whole 
 eternity in one short hour of time ; how, in one short 
 hour, a man can fly from the arctic pole to the equator ; 
 how, in one and the same moment, a man can mourn 
 over a dead love and marry a living one !" 
 
 " But if he had loved her previously ?" asked Zeneida, 
 softly. 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "If that which he experienced for her who was gone 
 
NOT THE KNIFE AU)NE STRIKES TO THE HEART 353 
 
 was but the adoration and boundless reverence for a 
 being of another world, whose wings were already bear- 
 ing her heavenward when first he knew her ? If all the 
 affection, tenderness, devotion which led him to the 
 feet of his worshipped bride were but sacrifices offered 
 at the shrine of a saint to keep her in life ?" 
 
 Alexander struck his forehead with his hand. 
 
 " You are right ! I never inquired into it. Never 
 asked him if the dream of love were more than a sick 
 girl's fancy ? He suffered himself to be bound by that 
 dream. That was the whole of it. In his heart he loved 
 another, and would have sacrificed himself for her. It 
 was all my doing, my fault for everything I do is faulty, 
 and everything that goes wrong is through me !" 
 
 These words were spoken by the Czar of All the Rus- 
 sias, not in bitterness, but with the deep melancholy of 
 conviction. It moved the heart to pity. 
 
 Suddenly he turned to Zeneida. 
 
 " Do you wish me, then, to grant Pushkin permission 
 to return ?" 
 
 " No, sire. He is in good hands. Whoever is a true 
 friend to him would rather desire that he should live a 
 happy \\iefarfrom St. Petersburg!" 
 
 This surprised Araktseieff. He threw his pen down 
 and scrutinized Zeneida. 
 
 "And for yourself, have you no wishes?" continued 
 the Czar. 
 
 " I am leaving St. Petersburg to-morrow, sire !'' 
 
 " And do you not wish that I should send you back 
 your credentials ?" 
 
 Oh, how proudly she raised her head at the words ! 
 She, too, was a queen, and she proved it. 
 
 " Sire, where I am once shown that my presence is 
 unwelcome I do not remain !" 
 
 23 
 
354 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 It was an audacious speech, bordering on treason, 
 and not the manner in which to address the Czar of All 
 the Russias ! 
 
 Springing from his chair, it was the favorite and not 
 the melancholy monarch who hastened to reply to the 
 haughty singer. 
 
 "Are you aware, young lady, that there are duties from 
 which a feeling of wounded pride does not exempt us ? 
 To them belongs the respect due to the throne and 
 ruler, to whom you owe your fame." 
 
 Zeneida's bosom heaved ; her nostrils dilated like those 
 of a zebra prepared for the fight with a wolf. Her great 
 dark flashing eyes threatened to annihilate the favorite ; 
 her lips quivered as if with fever. 
 
 "Your Excellency," she gasped, "there are men who 
 have carried gratitude to their benefactors to the other 
 ends of the earth with them, and who, though they had 
 the misfortune to lose the favor of their august protec- 
 tors, have not gone home to sing the ' Knife Song' 7" 
 
 This was such a smart slap in the face to Araktseieff 
 that he went back to his seat as though thinking it not 
 worth his while to reply to the insinuation. Did she 
 really know about it ? Had she her secret spies per- 
 haps Diabolka ? the gypsy girl could write now ! 
 
 Instead of his silenced favorite, the Czar now took up 
 the lance. It was but fair. If the squire defends his 
 lord, surely his lord should defend the squire. 
 
 "Your bitter remarks are in the wrong place, Fraulein 
 Ilmarinen. If there is one man in Greater Russia who 
 deserves to be looked upon as a perfect pattern of fidel- 
 ity and loyalty, that is the man ! He who has been at 
 my side in every battle ; has shared with me every clan- 
 ger, yet never claiming part in my glory ; who watches, 
 that I may sleep ; who defies the world, to defend me ; 
 
NOT THE KNIFE ALONE STRIKES TO THE HEART 355 
 
 who forsakes me never, when all else desert me ; that 
 man is Araktseieff ! What hard proofs of loyalty has 
 he not withstood ! How often have his enemies pre- 
 vailed to banish him ! And yet, as often as I have 
 called, he has returned, without a word of reproach to 
 me ! I struck him a vital blow in exiling his son, yet 
 he could kiss my hand and say I had done right, and 
 remain loyal to me. Such is Araktseieff !" 
 
 But the favorite could not glory in this imperial recog- 
 nition of his services, for, as he resumed his seat and, 
 in order to mark his contemptuous indifference, opened 
 the Sophien post-bag, the very letter Jakuskin had 
 mentioned to Zeneida came to hand, and absorbed his 
 attention to such a degree that he actually became deaf 
 to the sound of his own praises from the lips of the 
 Czar. 
 
 Zeneida saw how his face was working with demonia- 
 cal torture ; how, convulsed by nameless horror, it had 
 changed to the semblance of a maddened spectre ; she 
 saw his hair stand on end, his lips become blue, his eyes 
 start from their sockets. 
 
 "Oh, woe is me!" he suddenly roared out, in a tone 
 so brutalized that the Czar turned round in affright. 
 Araktseieff beat his breast with the letter, as a man tries 
 to heal his wound with the hair of the dog that bit him, 
 or of a scorpion with its dead body ; then, up from his 
 seat, " Oh, woe ! oh, woe ! that I came back ! Why was 
 I not there at the time ?" And he flung out of the iogm 
 like a madman. 
 
 The Czar, thinking that a sudden fit of mania had 
 seized the favorite, endeavored to hold him back. 
 
 "Alexis Andreovitch ! What is the matter where 
 are you rushing ?" 
 
 " Pardon, your Majesty ; I must go back to Grusino." 
 
356 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " You will not leave me now ? Affairs of state the 
 country ?" 
 
 Zeneida, placing herself directly in front of Araktse- 
 ieff, with arms crossed on her breast, gave him one look. 
 
 That look sobered him for an instant. Compelling 
 his countenance to resume its cold exterior, while the 
 Czar laid his hand soothingly on his arm, his official 
 self fought the real Araktseieff for the mastery. But 
 this time the man conquered. Striking his forehead 
 with the crushed letter still held in his hand, he burst 
 out : 
 
 " What do I care for Russia ? What do I care for all 
 this miserable earth for the Czar for all the gods, 
 when they could let such things happen ? Oh, woe is 
 me!" 
 
 And, pushing away the Czar's hand, he rushed scream- 
 ing from the room like one struck to death. The letter 
 to the Czar he took with him. 
 
 " What can have come to the man ?" exclaimed the 
 Czar in amazement. 
 
 He had but now been investing him with virtues 
 such as had never -been possessed save by that one 
 man, and here this very man suffers himself to indulge 
 in so coarse and violent an outbreak as would not be 
 ventured upon before a petty prince, let alone a Russian 
 Czar. 
 
 Was there some witchcraft in Zeneida's gaze that 
 could madden the soberest men, until, flinging down 
 the seals of office at the feet of their sovereign, they 
 should say : 
 
 " What is your country to me ? What care I for you 
 and your gods ?" 
 
 The eyes of the Czar strove to read the secret from 
 Zeneida's face. 
 
THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 357 
 
 The artiste would have withdrawn. 
 "Stay!" 
 
 "If your Majesty commands, I will stay altogether 
 and not leave St. Petersburg." 
 
 " Do you know what ails this man ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Then speak." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 
 
 THE double wedding was to be celebrated. The whole 
 of the tenantry had been commanded to attend. The 
 courtyard of the castle had been thronged with wonder- 
 ing serfs from early dawn. Two couples one hand- 
 some, the other loathsome were to be married that day. 
 
 The preparations were on a magnificent scale. For 
 three whole days the castle cooks had been engaged in 
 making the national dishes. Long floral walks had been 
 erected in the courtyard ; the gateway had been con- 
 verted into a triumphal arch by means of wreaths 
 and colored transparencies. In the centre of the great 
 courtyard was a stage erected, covered with gay-hued 
 carpets of goat's hair. Upon it stood a table bearing an 
 image of the Virgin Mary, the covered plate in which 
 were the wedding-rings, a goblet, bread and salt in 
 fine, everything required for the ceremony preceding the 
 marriage service. For there is much to be gone through 
 before a bridal couple reaches the church portion of the 
 ceremony much to be gone through at the hands of the 
 bystanders, the groomsmen, bridesmaids, and wedding- 
 mother. 
 
358 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 The wedding-mother has an important part to play. 
 Until they arrive at the church doors she is the princi- 
 pal personage. 
 
 Daimona is the wedding-mother in this instance. She 
 is marrying one of her serfs to her slave ; she is mother 
 to both. The high-backed chair upon the tribune is for 
 her. At first sound of the bells the ceremony begins. 
 From the priest's house the bridesmaids bring the bride 
 in her bridal array. Diabolka's dress glistens with 
 heavy gold embroidery ; a costly girdle encircles her 
 slender waist, on her neck hangs a fivefold necklace 
 of gold coins ; her head - dress is of precious stones. 
 One might think she was a princess. From the opposite 
 side resounds a horn, and the bridegroom, Schinko, is 
 seen advancing with his supporters and groomsmen ; 
 his coal-black, curly hair, falling on to his shoulders, be- 
 traying, despite the national costume, the bridegroom's 
 Indian descent. 
 
 The groomsmen welcome the approaching bride with 
 song, and follow the bridal pair to the altar. From out 
 the stables the second couple are now brought. Wild 
 screeches and the squeak of the bagpipe accompany 
 them in their progress. The pomp of wedding garments 
 only serves to make them more ridiculous. They are re- 
 ceived with mocking rhymes, which seem to please them 
 highly. Both are very drunk ; they kiss every one who 
 comes in their way ; but as they near each other they 
 cut hideous grimaces at one another ; and as they go up 
 to the altar steps the bride gives the bridegroom a good 
 pinch on the arm, while the bridegroom deals her out a 
 smart kick with his foot. 
 
 This couple is also placed at the table, so that bride- 
 grooms and brides stand one at each corner. 
 
 At the second peal of bells the wedding-mother de- 
 
HE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 359 
 
 scends with her whole retinue from the castle. The ret- 
 inue is composed of twelve female slaves, clad in white, 
 who line the steps on either side. The wedding-mother 
 mounts the tribune alone, and takes her seat upon the 
 throne. 
 
 She is dressed like a queen, and wears a purple man- 
 tle ; her cap of marten-skin is embroidered with gold 
 and pearls ; her face painted white and red. She begins 
 the ceremony. 
 
 " Schinko, what do you bring the bride for your wed- 
 ding present ?" 
 
 And Schinko details what he brings her : 
 
 "Two gay-colored beds, a cloak of Karassia cloth 
 lined with fox, a breastplate with silver buttons, a ko- 
 kosnik set with pearls, two pair of red boots, an em- 
 broidered linen shirt, twelve zinc plates, a dish, and a 
 gold-embroidered head-dress and veil if she behaves 
 well !" 
 
 All these gifts were brought round by the bridegroom's 
 supporters, and severally shown to the guests. 
 
 The bride, on her side, gives the bridegroom clothes, 
 ornaments, household utensils, and, last, a bundle of 
 birch rods, " with which he is to chastise me when I do 
 not behave well." 
 
 Now it is the turn of the second couple. 
 
 " Well, Polyka, and what do you bring your bride- 
 groom ?" 
 
 But this well-assorted couple are not content that one 
 should speak before the other ; one interrupts the other, 
 and they splutter out : 
 
 " I, a ragged cloak." 
 
 " I, a pot with a hole in it." 
 
 " I, a footless stocking in which ten cats could not 
 catch one mouse." 
 
360 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 "I, an empty jug that once had brandy in it." 
 
 " I, a bed sacking, with no blankets, and that lacks 
 feathers." 
 
 The wedding guests laughed themselves ill over this 
 dialogue of the bridal couple. 
 
 " And then twelve pair of ' dubina ' !" shouted the 
 bridegroom, with a loud laugh. 
 
 " With two ends to them," returned the bride, with a 
 giggle. 
 
 The word " dubina," so soft-sounding in Russian, sig- 
 nifies in the barbaric English tongue stick ! The sack 
 has found a mouth, the vinegar jar a stopper, and he 
 his match, grinned the wedding guests. 
 
 " Now exchange rings," says Daimona to the couples. 
 "They are in this covered plate. Those of the one 
 couple are of gold and silver ; the gold one is the bride's ; 
 the silver, the bridegroom's, The rings of the second 
 couple are of copper and lead." 
 
 The wedding-mother, removing the silken cover from 
 the plate, signed to Diabolka to set the example. 
 
 Diabolka, taking the gold and silver ring, placed the 
 gold one on her own finger, and was handing the silver 
 one to Schinko. 
 
 Daimona seized Diabolka's hand. 
 
 " Not so ! You will give the silver ring to Vuk ; and 
 Schinko the copper one to Polyka. For your bridegroom 
 is Vit^ and Schinko's bride is Polyka. That is the ar- 
 rangement." 
 
 A burst of loud laughter followed upon these words. 
 Now there would be some real fun. Diabolka and Vuk, 
 Polyka and Schinko. The wedding- mother had the 
 right to marry her serfs as she chose. Her serfs be- 
 longed to her, hand and foot, as did 'her horses and her 
 asses. She can pair her serfs as she chooses. 
 
THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 361 
 
 The laughter of the assembled guests grew louder as 
 the two drunken monsters, at Daimona's words, threw 
 themselves on the handsome prey given over to them. 
 
 Their laughter was only stopped when Diabolka, be- 
 fore them all, gave Vuk such a blow on the chest with 
 both hands that he went backwards off the table, and, 
 rolling from the tribune, fell among the people. 
 
 Things were indeed going badly. 
 
 Daimona, springing towards the table like a fury, 
 struck her fist violently upon it. At that sound the 
 spectators' laughter suddenly ceased. The grin was 
 still on their faces, but every sound died away on their 
 laughing lips. 
 
 It was fun no longer. 
 
 " You will not take the husband I have chosen for 
 you ?" shrieked Daimona, in fury. 
 
 " No," returned the girl, stamping her foot, " no !" 
 
 " Dog ! gypsy devil ! You dare to oppose me me, 
 who raised you from a dung-heap !" 
 
 " Then let me go back to the dung-heap." 
 
 " So you shall ! If you will not have the bridegroom 
 I have given you, then take off the bridal dress I gave 
 you, and be off in the gypsy rags you came in. But they 
 want something to complete them the addition of a 
 thrashing for your audacity. Schinko ! Here !" 
 
 He himself, her elder brother, her lover, her bride- 
 groom ! 
 
 Schinko was wearing, as bridegroom, the symbol of his 
 office hanging from his girdle the short-handled whip. 
 At his mistress's command he raised the whip. 
 
 "Strike !" ordered Daimona. 
 
 The girl, white with fear, held her face between her 
 hands. 
 
 " Brother, can you strike me ?" 
 
362 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 She had even got so far as to fear the lash. Or was 
 it the thought that it was Schinko' s hand which was to 
 strike that made her shrink back? The gypsy's heart 
 was not hard enough to let him strike the blow. He 
 threw the whip away. 
 
 " Dog, pick up that whip ; or shall I have you and her 
 tied together to the tail of a wild horse ? Go on. Slash 
 away until I say enough ; fifty lashes for me, fifty for 
 Junker Jevgen." 
 
 Schinko picked up the whip. 
 
 Despairing, the girl, flinging herself at Daimona's feet, 
 clasped her knees, and, sobbing, implored for mercy. 
 
 "Ah, you abomination, that's the place for you !" cried 
 Daimona through her clinched teeth; and seizing the 
 girl at her feet by her long plaits, she shrieked to Schinko, 
 " Now, have at her !" 
 
 With one spring the gypsy, like a panther, was upon 
 them, and, seizing Daimona by the throat with his left 
 hand, with his right he whipped out his dagger. Terri- 
 fied, Daimona released her hold of Diabolka and de- 
 fended herself with one arm ; the serf's dagger had 
 pierced her shoulder, the blood spouted high from it. 
 
 " Heh ! varlets! seize him ! help!" stormed the woman. 
 
 But not a person stirred among the crowd. Daimona 
 saw that she was left to herself. She was a powerful 
 woman who knew how to fight ; so, freeing herself from 
 the gypsy's grasp, she pushed him from her, sprang off 
 the tribune, and rushed towards the castle steps, Schinko 
 after her. 
 
 Nor did a hand stir to hinder the serf. The crowd, 
 the whole body of servants, looked on, and saw Schinko 
 dash after the mistress and wound her afresh. The 
 woman, turning upon him, began to wrestle with her 
 pursuer; his dagger was plunged again and again into 
 
THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO 363 
 
 her breast. Once more she succeeded in pushing back 
 her adversary, and, darting into the midst of her women 
 servants, shouted, " Help ! protect me !" The women 
 put their hands to their ears that they might not hear 
 her cries. They all hated her. Then she was seen fly- 
 ing down the long corridor, screaming and shrieking, 
 her murderer close upon her heels. Still no one went 
 to the rescue. 
 
 At the extreme end of the corridor was the picture of 
 a saint. Thither she fled, and fell down before it in 
 beseeching attitude. But the saint did not stir a hand 
 to protect her. Then rushing to the parapet of the 
 balcony, she attempted in vain to spring from it. 
 
 The murderer slowly comes down the stone steps 
 into the courtyard. A path is made for him. He as- 
 cends the bridal tribune. There, her face to the ground, 
 lies a girl motionless with terror, shame, and despair. 
 Close to her the wedding garments. The murderer 
 wipes the blood off his dagger with the bridal veil, and, 
 taking the girl by the hand, raises her to her feet. 
 They look each other in the eyes. One look, like a 
 couple of wild wolves. No need for speech ! Then 
 they run, hand in hand, into the steppe, into the 
 woods anywhere. No one seeks to hold them back. 
 They were never seen again. 
 
 Who would attempt to find two wolves escaped 
 from captivity, in their native lair, amid the dwellers 
 of the endless steppes, whether in forest or jungle ? 
 Only once did the two call a halt, where Diabolka, 
 having reached her gypsy encampment, wrote the let- 
 ter to Jukuskin, in which she related the tragi- come- 
 dy of Grusino, and of which a copy fell into the 
 hands of the Czar's favorite, acquainting him with 
 the horrors that had taken place. The starosts of 
 
364 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Grusino had not had the courage to give him the 
 tidings. 
 
 Zeneida acted wisely in having personally related 
 the events to the Czar ; for those who later informed 
 him of what had occurred at Grusino made a point 
 of causing it to appear that this murder was in con- 
 nection with St. Petersburg secret societies. Many 
 were set upon rinding the motive for the deed in high 
 circles, where it was a matter of interest to keep the 
 favorite from the person of the Czar, and where it was 
 hoped, by the banishment of the son, to have effect- 
 ed a rupture of the close bond uniting Czar and fa- 
 vorite. Schinko and Diabolka were hired by the con- 
 spirators. 
 
 Was there any truth in this ? No one has ever cleared 
 up the mystery. But if any hand had prepared the blow, 
 it had struck home. 
 
 Araktseieff was to be seen tearing through the streets 
 of St. Petersburg, hatless, with hair wildly streaming. 
 Your orthodox Russian, when he mourns, goes in sun 
 and snow with head uncovered. 
 
 On the day of his flight two great wagon -loads of 
 state papers were despatched from the favorite's palace 
 to the Hermitage. His orders, his sword, his keys of 
 office, he sent by his house-porter to the Lord Chamber- 
 lain. And, at the moment of his departure, the thunder 
 of " Holy Christopher" startled the inhabitants of St. 
 Petersburg out of their rest. This father among cannons 
 is only fired when a general dies. The court favorite 
 had himself gone to the commandant of the fortress 
 and ordered the cannon to be fired. The commandant 
 had no choice but to obey. Araktseieff was commander- 
 in-chief of the artillery. When the firing was over the 
 commandant asked : 
 
THE HERMIT 365 
 
 " What was the name of the deceased general ?" 
 " Alexis Andreovitch Araktseieff !" 
 Some days later the Czar had terrible news of Arak- 
 tseieff. His reason had entirely left him. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 * 
 
 THE HERMIT 
 
 ONLY when Araktseieff had left the Czar did the 
 emperor realize how completely alone he was in the 
 world. 
 
 There was not a man in whom he could place confi- 
 dence ; in every one he saw an enemy, a conspirator ; 
 and his true friends, if he still possessed any, he had 
 imbittered by Araktseieff's recall. His generals were 
 disaffected by his not supporting the Greeks. Secret 
 treaties were directed against him. Those who were al- 
 ready apprised of his declaration of war, and had suffi- 
 cient energy to act counter to him, had left the field at 
 the beginning of operations. 
 
 On Araktseieff's return to Grusino he had hurried 
 without delay to the mausoleum, and, barring the door 
 behind him, had cast himself down beside Daimona's 
 coffin, and for two whole days nothing was heard within 
 but his bitter sobs. He would eat nothing, would make 
 no answer to words or entreaties. " Daimona " was the 
 only sound he uttered. 
 
 He had loved that woman as only giant beasts love 
 their mates; when the hunter has shot the female he 
 may shoot the male, for it will not leave its dead. For 
 two whole days Araktseieff's household in vain be- 
 sieged the door of the mausoleum ; Chevalier Gal- 
 
366 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 ban's representations also that he should come out 
 and take care of his valuable life were fruitless ; he 
 paid no heed to his faithful followers. In vain 
 they called him their sweet, good master, " sweet 
 friend," " Alexis Andreovitch " ; he was deaf to their 
 voices. 
 
 On the third day Photios, the Archimandrite of the 
 Monastery of St. George, came to the mauseleum. He 
 is the holy man, to receive whose blessing hundreds of 
 thousands make the yearly pilgrimage to the monastery 
 from all parts of Russia. The decree of the saint is as 
 much esteemed as is a papal bull. 
 
 When Czar Alexander I. gave into the hands of 
 Prince Galitzin, the freethinker, the portfolio of Public 
 Instruction, the Archimandrite, going up to the Czar, 
 exclaimed threateningly: 
 
 " If you take the ancient faith from your people you 
 will shake your empire to its foundations." 
 
 Whereupon the Czar dismissed Prince Galitzin, and 
 the education of the people was left in the hands of 
 the Sacred Synod. Russians always have their "living 
 saints," some of them miraculous. 
 
 Photios, standing at the door of the mausoleum, 
 called to Araktseieff within, in language unmistakably 
 plain. 
 
 " Abandoned criminal, come out !" 
 
 The cries within were silenced. 
 
 " Come out from there !" 
 
 Araktseieff staggered out. He was scarcely recogni- 
 zable. His beard, untouched for several days, stood 
 out in gray bristles round his face ; his eyes were blood- 
 shot with weeping; his lips swollen; his hair lay wild- 
 ly matted on his forehead ; his general's uniform was 
 streaked with green mould. 
 
THE HERMIT 367 
 
 "What seek you in that grave?" 
 
 " Death." 
 
 "Of course you will die, we all shall do so, as penalty' 
 for our sins. But do you desire to crown your evil 
 deeds by dying unrepentant? Do you desire to die 
 beside the coffin of her for the loss of whose soul you 
 are guilty ? You were the cause of her sin ; will you 
 drag her down to hell ? Instead of thinking of repent- 
 ance, would you follow her to condemnation ? De- 
 fiantly would you burst the barriers of that fearful next 
 world instead of entreating admission with bended 
 head ? Of course you will die, but not when it pleases 
 you ; rather when it pleases your Maker to grant you 
 death as a reward for penance. 
 
 "Your place is in the deep catacombs, 11 continued 
 Photios ; "not by the side of your concubine. Under 
 the rays of the burning sun, in storm, in the roar of the 
 tempest, under drenching rain, shall you seek repent- 
 ance ! Stand up ! follow me !" 
 
 Araktseieff crawled towards him on his knees. 
 
 "Now eat!" commanded Photios, throwing him a 
 couple of turnips. 
 
 Picking them up, Araktseieff obeyed. 
 
 "Now put on these!" And he threw a dilapidated 
 monk's dress towards him, faded out of all color by sun 
 and rain. Araktseieffj taking off his general's uniform, 
 put it on. And as saints on this earth do not drive in 
 carriages, he followed the saint on foot and barefooted 
 to the gates of the Monastery of St. George. 
 
 St. George's is one of the wealthiest monasteries in 
 all Russia. It is situated near Grusino, at the end of 
 the long peninsula formed by the river Volkhov and 
 Lake Ilmer. Its gilded cupolas, green from the verdi- 
 gris which centuries have brought out on the copper, 
 
368 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 tend to spread its fame far and wide. But entrance 
 within the walls of the monastery oppresses the spirits. 
 Silver dais upon silver dais reach to the dome ; the 
 organ towers aloft, with its pipes of gold ; there are 
 pictures of saints dazzling with rubies ; mosaics com- 
 posed entirely of precious stones. Upon the elabo- 
 rately decorated altars lie costly Bibles bound in silver, 
 and enamelled books of the mass. Over one of the 
 altars is a picture of St. George in beaten silver. But 
 it is only when we come to the " treasure chamber," 
 with its priceless store of mitres, crooks, crowns, pearl- 
 embroidered stoles, golden monstrances, that we realize 
 how rich is Heaven's vicegerent the Church. While 
 the priests who guard all these treasures wander in 
 among them in coarse cassocks and bare feet, that the 
 world may see how poor is man. 
 
 But the most jealously guarded of all the treasures 
 stood before the altar. It was a granite pillar enclosed 
 within silver rails. 
 
 On the granite was engraven : " Upon this spot knelt 
 Czar Alexander, attended by his faithful servants, the 
 Archimandrite Photios and Alexis Andreovitch Arak- 
 tseieff, in the year 1818." 
 
 Thither Photios brought the statesman, that he might 
 see his name perpetuated beside that of the Czar. 
 
 " So high you had raised yourself. Now come and 
 see how low you have sunk!" 
 
 The Archimandrite led the penitent back to the 
 cloister and showed him his, the Archimandrite's, cell. 
 It was a space six feet broad by eight feet long. 
 But there was one luxury in it : it had a window 
 through which sunshine penetrated. His bed was 
 a coffin roughly put together; his prie-dieu a stone 
 hollowed out by constant kneeling; a jug and a bowl 
 
THE HERMIT 369 
 
 for the daily kwas the sole furniture of the cell. Yet 
 all this was luxury compared with what awaited the 
 penitent. 
 
 In the catacombs of the cloister were caves hewn out 
 of solid rock, just large enough to contain a man kneel- 
 ing or recumbent ; a small hole in the heavy iron door 
 let in air. Total darkness reigned. These caves were 
 inhabited by the whilom great, powerful aristocrats, mas- 
 ters over hundreds of thousands, now no longer masters 
 of their own souls. It is not tyranny, not the power 
 of the sacred hierarchy which holds them bound here, 
 but their own blind zeal. Despising, hating the world, 
 they are self -condemned to the awful imprisonment. 
 The catacombs of the cloisters of St. George and of 
 Solowetshk ever harbor numbers thus self-condemned 
 to a living death. 
 
 It pleased Araktseieff. 
 
 Lying upon his straw he passed days and weeks. 
 His door was kept locked by day, only to be opened 
 at sound of the vesper bell, when he went to seek for 
 food, for food is not brought to penitents. Only at 
 dusk may they steal into the cloister garden to seek 
 for mangel-wurzel, samphire, potatoes, and such like 
 produce of the earth, their sole sustenance. One day 
 Araktseieff came across a still more remarkable peni- 
 tent than himself. 
 
 He, too, had once been a distinguished bojar ; but 
 none knew what his real name was. Here he was only 
 known as " Little Father Nahum." 
 
 Nahum did not even allow himself the luxury of 
 a ragged cassock. His sole covering is a rush mat 
 woven by himself, his white hair and gray beard flow 
 wildly down over his dirt - begrimed limbs. Nahum 
 does not allow himself lodging in a cave. In summer 
 24 
 
370 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 he sleeps in pools, in winter he creeps into a dung- 
 heap. To kneel day after day in his cave is not hu- 
 miliation enough for him ; he prostrates himself across 
 the threshold of the church door, that those who enter 
 may walk over him, kick him, spit on him. To gather 
 fresh roots out of the earth and eat them Little Father 
 Nahum looks upon as sinful gluttony. He seeks his 
 evening meal from the dust-heap; what is thrown there 
 is his sustenance. 
 
 Araktseieff had been doing penance three weeks in 
 the catacombs when, one evening, as he was return- 
 ing with a bundle of leeks in his hand, he came upon 
 Nahum feasting off his self-laid dinner-table, the dust- 
 heap. 
 
 " Ah," said Little Father Nahum, accosting the new- 
 comer, " I have found so much to eat here to-night I can 
 share with a friend/' 
 
 "What has Providence provided for you?'' 
 
 "Mouldy cheese." 
 
 " All right. Give me some." 
 
 " Here it is. Take it all," returned Nahum. " He 
 who hankers after a penitent's food should have it all 
 given up to him." 
 
 And he handed him the mouldy cheese, with the 
 paper in which it had been wrapped and thrown upon 
 the dust -heap. Truly, loathsome food! But Arak- 
 tseiefFs attention was not so much arrested by the con- 
 tents as by the paper in which the cheese was enclosed. 
 It was a letter, and in it Araktseieff at once recognized 
 the handwriting of the Czar. His blood surged within 
 him. The Czars writing a cover for stale cheese ! 
 And then the contents ! It was a letter addressed to 
 Photios. 
 
 "Call him to you. Speak to him in the name of holy 
 
THE HERMIT 371 
 
 religion ; strengthen him in the faith. Admonish him 
 to preserve his life for the good of his country, which 
 is beyond all other considerations. Thus will you pre- 
 serve to the empire a servant of inestimable loyalty, and 
 to me a faithful friend whom I sincerely honor and es- 
 teem." 
 
 And this was the paper chosen as a cover for mouldy 
 cheese and thrown upon a dust-heap ! 
 
 "Well, eat away, man," murmured Little Father Na- 
 hum, and, taking up the cheese which Araktseieff had 
 let fall on the dust-heap, offered it him in the flat of his 
 dirty hand. 
 
 Thrusting his fellow-penitent aside, Araktseieff hast- 
 ened to Photios. 
 
 Photios was in the act of reading vespers. Araktseieff 
 did not suffer him to come to an end. 
 
 " Was this letter from the Czar addressed to you ?" 
 
 "Tome." 
 
 "And you threw it on the dust-heap?" 
 
 "That you might find it there." 
 
 " I have found it. My penance is over. I return to 
 St. Petersburg." 
 
 "Just what I wished to accomplish." 
 
 " You have accomplished it. But you do not yet know 
 what you were doing when you brought Alexis Arak- 
 tseieff forth from the grave ? You constrained him 
 back to life and the world, once more to prove the 
 stuff that is in him. Well may you tremble before a 
 resuscitated Araktseieff !" 
 
 " A blessing be upon all your actions !" stammered 
 the Archimandrite, and continued his vespers. 
 
 Araktseieff left the monastery that very hour. He left 
 it with the same wild frenzy of destruction with which 
 he had entered it, only that then his desire was for self- 
 
372 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 destruction ; now had returned the old desire for the 
 destruction of others. 
 
 When Araktseieff, after those three weeks, was seen 
 again in St. Petersburg, every one started back in terror 
 at his appearance. His face was emaciated, his hair had 
 turned quite white. It was plain to see that he had risen 
 from the grave. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 DISCORDS 
 
 ZENEIDA was strolling alone through the shady wind- 
 ing paths of her park in the twilight of evening. Night- 
 ingales were singing ; from a pond close by came the 
 sound of croaking frogs ; ever and anon the song of a 
 boatman on the Neva broke the stillness, or the distant 
 sound of a violin or Clarinet in an inn, or the howl of a 
 chained-up dog. Again would come the tones of the 
 passing-bell, announcin^a death, or from the vicinity of 
 Monplaisir a sharp " Who goes there ?" " Halt !" some- 
 times followed by a shot. Why that shot ? Then again 
 the song of nightingales, the croak of frogs, sounds of 
 clarinet and passing-bell. These discords found answer- 
 ing echo in her heart. 
 
 AraktseiefFs second return was hurrying on the crisis. 
 No sooner had the Czar passed over the cares of gov- 
 ernment again to his favorite's shoulders than he had 
 secluded himself completely in the solitude of Mon- 
 plaisir. Just as he had formerly avoided his consort, 
 so now did he devote himself exclusively to her. He 
 seemed as if he could not live an hour without her, as 
 
DISCORDS 373 
 
 though he were endeavoring to atone by this devotiof 
 for his fourteen years of neglect. Now first he recog- 
 nized the treasure he possessed and had neglected ; now 
 first he perceived that the wife he loved was ill, that 
 her protracted sorrows, her secret grief, had undermined 
 her strength. And he trembled to think he might lose 
 her. 
 
 But the Czarina was happy. She blessed the sick- 
 ness which had given her back her husband. The 
 Czarina's physician, Dr. Stoffregen, had recommended a 
 milder climate for her through the severity -of winter, 
 perhaps that of Venice; but Elisabeth had answered, "A 
 Russian empress should not die anywhere else than on 
 Russian soil." And it was this thought alone which ab- 
 sorbed the soul of the Czar. 
 
 Of the devastations wrought by Araktseieff, armed as 
 he was with unfettered power, none told the Czar. Of 
 all that was passing on the other side of the poplars of 
 Monplaisir he was ignorant. He was not informed that 
 AraktseiefFs first step was to have trfe entire household 
 of Grusino, who had been witnesses to the murder, con- 
 sisting of ten men and twelve naid-servants, brought to 
 St. Petersburg to the pillory and lashed until they were 
 half-flayed, for not having gone to Daimona's rescue. He 
 was ignorant that the severity he had previously practised 
 as a system was now, by his thirst for vengeance, increased 
 to gross cruelty ; that he had dismissed high officials of 
 every kind from their posts without any other reason 
 than simply because they did not please him ; that he 
 was filling the dungeons on mere suspicion ; that he had 
 even cruelly oppressed the poor Finns. Possessing noth- 
 ing more that he could take from them, he punished 
 them through that which he " gave " them, his latest 
 edict being that their toasts at public dinners must be 
 
374 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 given in Russian. All this had strained disaffection and 
 ^scontent to its utmost limit. Of all this Alexander 
 K lew nothing. No. He was absorbed in devising how 
 to procure fresh air without draught in his beloved 
 patient's room ; how to keep out the gnats ; and, among 
 the flowers for her apartment, how to select those that 
 would not give her a headache. 
 
 And Zeneida well knows what is looming in the dis- 
 tance. Secret societies are no longer holding meet- 
 ings ; they are agreed what is to be done. The only 
 question now is " When ?" 
 
 The outbreak must be general throughout the empire. 
 The threads are in Zeneida's hands. The artiste has 
 retired from the stage. Moreover, the opera is closed 
 during the summer months in St. Petersburg, and she 
 will not again appear as a member of the Imperial 
 Opera Company, but will give a concert for a charitable 
 purpose in the course of the autumn. The day was to 
 be publicly announced in official pnpers ten days pre- 
 viously. When the announcement, therefore, appeared 
 that " Fraulein Ilmarinen would sing for the benefit of 
 the Orphanage " on such and such a date the conspira- 
 tors would know that this was the day fixed for the 
 rebellion. The government organ would itself spread 
 the word throughout the empire. Thus in her hand are 
 the shears which shall sever the fatal thread; and the 
 grave foreknowledge of all that it must bring with it is 
 oppressing her spirit. The rebellion is unavoidable ; 
 no one will longer bear the heavy burden ; from ragged 
 mujik to titled magnate, all are yearning to burst the 
 yoke, and the Kalevains have more reason to weep 
 than their fellows. But what is to happen to the 
 imperial pair in the outbreak? Both have been such 
 kind protectors to Zeneida. The palace had been a 
 
DISCORDS 375 
 
 home to her. How will it be possible to save their lives 
 without proving a traitor to their cause ? 
 
 And then a second trouble Pushkin. True, he had 
 promised her he would withdraw his name from " the 
 green book"; but, when giving the promise, he had 
 thought he would have the daughter of the Czar to wife. 
 That is over now, and Pushkin has no further reason 
 to withdraw from the Northern Union. He, too, is in 
 possession of the conspirators' plans ; there is not a 
 doubt but that as soon as he reads the announcement 
 that Zeneida will sing for the benefit of the Orphanage 
 he will appear that day in St. Petersburg, even he must 
 leave Paradise itself to be there. 
 
 How is she to hinder this without casting the slur of 
 cowardice upon Pushkin ? The delights of love alone 
 would not be strong enough to hold him back a yet 
 stronger motive must be found. And she paces back- 
 ward and forward under the trees in the dusk ; in her 
 soul reign the same discords which disturb the brilliant 
 night, and she seeks in vain some quieting thought. 
 
 The Czar has grown melancholy ; the Czarina is sick 
 unto death; they live but for each other; have shut 
 themselves up from the world. Their example is con- 
 tagious. Even Prince Ghedimin has become reconciled 
 to his wife, and no longer visits Zeneida. St. Peters- 
 burg society has scattered itself among the forty islands 
 of the Neva. Every one lives to himself ; all social life 
 is extinct. Every visitor is looked upon suspiciously 
 by the host as one of Araktseieff's spies. There is an 
 oppressive calm over everything. People do not even 
 write to each other any more. They tremble at the 
 black inquisition. 
 
 Pushkin gives no news of himself. He sits at home 
 in his desert at Pleskow. If he keeps silent about his 
 
376 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 happiness, he has a hundred good reasons for that si- 
 lence. It is possible that Bethsaba has written more 
 than once to Zeneida ; but letters are an uncertain me- 
 dium of communication. Who knows into whose hands 
 they may fall ?" 
 
 This great calm, this isolation, this striving to keep 
 up the spirits, began to be oppressive. Chevalier Gal- 
 ban received orders to go from villa to villa and organ- 
 ize some amusements among the aristocracy. Husbands 
 were no longer to be tied to their wives' apron-strings. 
 
 It was rumored that the lovely Princess Ghedimin 
 would break the ice and bring society together again 
 by means of a great reception on the day of the Feast 
 of Masinka, and, in order to make the reconciliation of 
 the Prince and Princess more publicly known, that Zenei- 
 da would be included among the Princess's invited guests. 
 
 The haughty Princess sending an invitation to the 
 equally haughty Queen of Song, whom the world cred- 
 ited with having been one of the Prince's flames ! It is 
 hard to say which woman has the greater courage, the 
 one who sends or the one who accepts the invitation. 
 
 But Korynthia has made a still more difficult decision. 
 She means to send Bethsaba an invitation, accompa- 
 nied by a coaxing, forgiving, affectionate letter, written 
 by her own hand. And in order to insure the young 
 wife's acceptance, the Princess intends to offer the pros- 
 pect of the imperial pardon. Bethsaba shall have the 
 opportunity of soliciting forgiveness from the Czar for 
 her own bold step, and the return of imperial favor 
 towards her husband, banished by the Czar's displeas- 
 ure to Pleskow. This bait would be irresistible. 
 
 All this had Zeneida gathered from Chevalier Galban. 
 
 What did Korynthia hope to achieve by this ? What 
 does she aim at in getting hold of Bethsaba ? 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 377 
 
 It is next to impossible that the young wife should 
 be tempted to leave her home during her honeymoon, 
 and alone, without her husband, who may not leave trie 
 precincts of his estate. And yet, did she do so, what 
 would be the consequences ? 
 
 Zeneida thought she had found in the person of Beth- 
 saba the missing link in the chain. Now it is her work 
 to fit that link in its place. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 
 
 IT must be a poor toy that cannot amuse children. 
 And there can be no greater children than a newly mar- 
 ried couple who are deeply in love with each other. 
 
 There is kite-flying in the park at Pleskow ; Bethsaba 
 is in high glee at her kite always flying straight up and 
 remaining aloft, while Alexander's is always coming to 
 grief. Her kite, too, is much handsomer than his. In 
 the form of a dragon, it has two large eyes, a mouth, 
 nose, and movable ears ; while Alexander's is just a 
 commonplace thing, made out of old scraps of manu- 
 scripts pasted together. The wide expanse affords the 
 two grown-up children room enough to run with their 
 kites. No eyes to see them but those of the stag on the 
 edge of the forest. 
 
 A post-chaise rolls quickly along the highway skirting 
 the park walls ; the postilion blows his horn cheerily. 
 
 "I think that post-chaise must have stopped at our 
 gate," observes Bethsaba. 
 
 " So it has. It means either a guest or a letter." 
 
 " Oh, I hope no guest," sighed the little wife. 
 
378 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Newly married folk are not hospitable, as a rule. 
 Still, somebody appeared to have come. The dvornik 
 came out towards them from the castle. They hastily 
 let down their kites ; they must not be caught at such 
 childish amusements. In the hurry the dragon caught 
 in the withered bough of a pine-tree and lost one eye. 
 
 "What a pity!" murmured Bethsaba, in vexation. 
 " Now my dragon has only got one eye. Have you a 
 scrap of paper about you to repair the damage ?" 
 
 "Where should I get it from? Haven't you already 
 seized upon every vestige of paper to make your dragon 
 with ?" 
 
 "Do look! Perhaps you'll find some old bill or 
 other." 
 
 Meanwhile the dvornik had come up to them. 
 
 "Well, Tanaschi, what is it?" 
 
 " A letter." 
 
 "To whom?" 
 
 Bethsaba seized the letter from the dvornik. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! A woman's handwriting ! Take it. A 
 love-letter. Some former flame writing to reproach 
 you.' Read it. Of course it is to make an appoint- 
 ment." 
 
 "You are right enough. It is a woman's handwrit- 
 ing, but addressed to you, not to me, my dear." 
 
 "To me ?" cried Bethsaba, in surprise. "Who can 
 have written to me? Perhaps Zeneida?" 
 
 " No, it's not Zeneida. I know her handwriting." 
 
 " Perhaps too well. But who else could have written 
 to me ?" 
 
 And they began guessing who the writer could have 
 been while the letter passed from one to the other. At 
 last Alexander proposed that the best way to see who 
 had written the letter would be to open it. 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 379 
 
 As they saw the signature both simultaneously cried, 
 " My godmother !" " Your godmother !" 
 
 " What can she have written about ?" 
 
 Presently, as if it were intended for a joke, Bethsaba 
 laughed heartily over the letter. 
 
 "Ha, ha, ha! She wants me to go to the Masinka 
 Fete ! Alone ! Without Alexander ! * It is to be a grand 
 affair; the Czar and Czarina and several foreign princes 
 will be there ; I shall have an opportunity to entreat the 
 Czar to grant Alexander permission to go back to St. 
 Petersburg!' Ha, ha, ha! Did you hear that, Alex- 
 ander Sergievitch ? My godmother sends me an invita- 
 tion to a ball without you ! The letter could not have 
 come at a more opportune moment I just wanted it !" 
 
 And with these words she seized the precious epistle ; 
 it just covered the damage the dragon had sustained, 
 and a couple of pins fixed it in place the black seal 
 just forming the pupil of the eye. (The court had gone 
 into mourning for six weeks after Sophie's death, and 
 society used black sealing-wax during the period.) 
 
 "A large case also arrived by post-chaise," said the 
 dvornik. 
 
 " Put it on one side. I have no time now to look at it." 
 
 What more incomprehensible than that one of the 
 fair sex should have no time to look at a ball-dress 
 sent direct from the capital ? The dragon was mended, 
 and ready now to resume its flight in the air. 
 
 Laughing and shouting, Bethsaba ran along with the 
 tail of her kite dragging after her; the second child 
 stood looking on, laughing, while the dragon disapprov- 
 ingly waggled its foolish-looking head. While starting 
 a kite, the flyer has to run back with head turned up- 
 ward. Bethsaba, therefore, was not aware that she was 
 running directly against some one coming towards her 
 
380 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 from the English garden ; and was startled to find her- 
 self suddenly embraced from behind, and a long kiss 
 impressed upon her face. Then she gave a loud, joyous 
 cry, and the next instant her arms were round the in- 
 truder's neck ; and, not content with hanging upon that 
 neck, she pulled its owner on to the grass, and, rolling 
 over, kissed her enthusiastically, interposing the most 
 endearing epithets: "You love! you darling! you 
 precious !" Pushkin was fain to go to the rescue, and 
 help them both up again. 
 
 It needed no extraordinary acumen to guess who the 
 guest, so affectionately welcomed, could be. 
 
 "Do not quite strangle me, you little goose!" ex- 
 claimed Zeneida. "Look; your dragon has meanwhile 
 flown away." 
 
 " Let it fly out into the wide world, and my godmoth- 
 er's letter with it. Do you know I have had a letter 
 from my godmother? Do you know she has invited 
 me to the Masinka Fete without Alexander ? Do you 
 know what I did with her letter ? My dragon had a 
 slit, and I mended the slit with it. How dear and good 
 of you to come and see us !" 
 
 "It is the correct thing. Six weeks after marriage it 
 is the wedding-mother's duty to come and look after the 
 young couple and see that they are happy together 
 and if they really care for each other. Has your hus- 
 band beaten you yet ?" 
 
 "Oh, dreadfully," said Bethsaba, pretending to com- 
 plain. " The last time it was here !" And she secretly 
 rubbed a place on her arm until she had made it red ; 
 but a redness, Zeneida detected, which had come from 
 no blows. 
 
 ' And you, Pushkin, have you been writing many fine 
 verses ?" 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 381 
 
 " Not a line ! You know my muse is never active in 
 fine weather. It requires storm, rain, and snow." 
 
 "And your sky has remained sunny?" 
 
 " As you see. I have not written a word." 
 
 This was very possible. There are times in his life 
 when a poet only feels poetry, does not write it. 
 
 " Why, we have not a sheet of paper in the house," 
 said Bethsaba, whose woman's instinct whispers to her it 
 is her greatest boast when a poet's wife can say that it 
 has been through her that the poet has been faithless 
 to his muse. "We really have not. I had to use my 
 godmother's letter to make my dragon's eye." 
 
 " Indeed ! Is that how you treat your correspond- 
 ence? That is a good thing to know. I will never 
 write to you then, but, when I have anything to tell you, 
 will rather come myself." 
 
 "That will be nice." 
 
 " Or I will take you with me." 
 
 To this the same response, "That will be nice," did 
 not come. Clinging to Alexander's arm she looked up 
 to him, saying : 
 
 " You will not let me go, will you ?" 
 
 Zeneida answered for him : 
 
 " To that we shall not ask Alexander Sergievitch. 
 His business it is when his little wife wants to go visit- 
 ing to order out the carriage and horses, and to take 
 care of the house in her absence." 
 
 " But I could not go anywhere if I wished it. Do 
 you not see how I am dressed ? It is the Pleskow cos- 
 tume ! Alexander tells me it was also the costume of 
 the first Russian Christian, Princess Olga. And I like 
 it so much. Admire this sarafan with its many buttons, 
 the pearl-embroidered povojnyik on my head, my red 
 boots and striped silk stockings !" And with childish 
 
382 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 naivete she lifted up her dress to her knees. " How peo- 
 ple would stare if I* were to appear among them in this 
 costume! I have no other dress; this is what pleases 
 my Alexander to see me in !" 
 
 She told the truth. The ball-dresses sent her were 
 not her own property yet ; she had not accepted the 
 present. 
 
 Alexander drew his little nestling wife closer to 
 him. 
 
 " We have become thorough peasant farmers." 
 
 " Heaven grant that you may remain so !" thought 
 Zeneida to herself. " I fear, however, that some day 
 you will be leaving wife and village, and it will no 
 longer be the pearl-embroidered cap upon your wife's 
 head you will then consider the greatest adornment, 
 but the Phrygian cap you will be running after !" 
 
 That which Dante omitted among the tortures of hell 
 was that a woman should be condemned to see the man 
 she loves, who might have been hers, revelling in the love' 
 of another woman, and she his wife. Had Zeneida's love 
 been that of ordinary women, it would have mattered 
 little to her that the man, round whom her fetters had 
 been cast, should, sooner or later, be dragged by these 
 very fetters to the grave. The joys of the present would 
 have outweighed the tortures of the future, the dread se- 
 crets of eternity. But so dearly had she loved Pushkin 
 that she sought for him a happiness in which she had no 
 part. It was an unnatural situation, and one requiring 
 a nobler courage than most possess. But is not the 
 woman who devotes herself to play a part in politics an 
 unnatural, abnormal creation ? Upon the altar of poli- 
 tics the heart is the lamb of sacrifice. In the service 
 of a Moloch sensual passion may exist, but not love. 
 Those who become political leaders have no longer fa- 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 383 
 
 ther or mother, brother or sister, lover or friend ; they 
 recognize no difference between honesty and roguery, 
 between the laws of God and the expediencies of man. 
 Hence the pursuit of politics is an unnatural occupation 
 for women, with whom love and justice are ruling prin- 
 ciples. The Amazon who went forth to war had first 
 rooted out the gentler feelings. 
 
 The possibility of women taking up such a part is 
 only comprehensible in countries where oppression is 
 so unbearable, so utter, that the thirst for freedom ex- 
 tends from the starved hearts of the men to those of 
 the women. The poet-laureate might love the court 
 prima donna, but not the plenipotentiary of the Szojusz 
 Blagodenztoga. Between those two lay " the green 
 book" a far more efficient obstacle than the green 
 ocean. 
 
 But, all the same, the anchorites of St. George's Mon- 
 astery had not carried their self-torture to greater per- 
 fection than had this woman who had forced herself to 
 come as a guest to the house where she would be wit- 
 ness to the happiness denied her, and which she had 
 voluntarily given to another. And now she has come 
 to guard that happiness against the storms of the fut- 
 ure. And she is not only witness to their happiness 
 when they are together, but even when his farm-yard 
 or stables tear Pushkin for a short hour from Bethsaba's 
 side, the young wife can talk of nothing but to boast 
 of her happiness. No peacock is so proud of spreading 
 his tail as is a fond wife of telling of her happy lot. 
 She has so many things to tell. Her husband is a per- 
 fect model of virtue and perfection ! And to all this 
 Zeneida must listen with utmost composure ; to see, if 
 the husband were absent over the expected half-hour, 
 how uneasy and distraught the young wife grows ; to 
 
384 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 read from her face : " Oh, you dear benefactress mine, 
 my good fairy, my goddess, how gladly, were you not 
 with me, would I run out to seek him !" And this, too, 
 must she bear with a smile on her face ! Oh, this 
 Moloch ! 
 
 " Listen, child : my sole object in coining was to steal 
 you away from Alexander Sergievitch for a time." 
 
 " Ah ! If you want to steal either, take both of us. 
 Alexander would not mind being run off with by you." 
 
 "Only, as it happens, he is neither invited, nor may 
 he come. You must accept your godmother's invita- 
 tion." 
 
 " What ! The invitation to her ball !" 
 
 " There you will meet the Czar and Czarina ; they will 
 speak to you." 
 
 " I there without Alexander ?" 
 
 "Upon you it depends that Pushkin may be free to 
 go where you go. Your marriage with him has entirely 
 marred his career. He does not feel it now, but in the 
 course of a year or two he will remember that formerly 
 every step he took was accompanied by the clank of 
 spurs. The soul of a man is not to be confined in a 
 cage like a tame bird, especially when he has eagle's 
 wings. Be it your task to implore forgiveness from the 
 Czar for your husband, that Pushkin may proceed on 
 his interrupted career. Now the meadows are still green ; 
 in another month they will be covered with snow, and 
 the couple condemned to fireside and indoor life will 
 not be so light-hearted as the one flying their kites in 
 the open meadow." 
 
 " Then it is your wish that I should intercede for 
 Alexander's return to St. Petersburg ?" 
 
 " Not for all the world ! No ; a thousand times rather 
 entreat the Czar to give him a mission that shall take 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 385 
 
 you and him to your own people and country. De- 
 scribe to the Czar and Czarina the land in which you 
 were born, as it lives in your memory, with its genial 
 climate, its aromatic woods, its fruit-bearing trees. Tell 
 them all the lovely and beautiful things of it that your 
 memory can recall, and entreat the Czar, as an act of 
 mercy to yourself, to send your husband there." 
 
 " Oh, the tempting thought !" sighed Bethsaba. 
 
 " But he will never consent that I should leave him 
 and go away, and stay days and weeks away from 
 him." 
 
 " It would only be one week." 
 
 " But that is a century ! Oh no ! Alexander would 
 never consent to it." 
 
 " You leave that to me ; I will talk him over." 
 
 "Oh, if you succeed in that you will be a real fairy. 
 But what an odd fairy ! Had you wanted to carry off 
 Alexander from me, I could have understood it ; but me 
 from Alexander that I cannot understand." 
 
 " See ! here he comes through the garden. Place your- 
 self here at the window and watch. I will go and meet 
 him. You listen how I am going to bewitch him !" 
 
 " That I am curious to hear." 
 
 One intrenchment was already taken. Zeneida hast- 
 ened to besiege the second. 
 
 Pushkin, crossing the lawn, was astonished to see 
 Zeneida hurrying towards him. 
 
 "Turn back, and let's have a little talk," said she, 
 putting her hand on Pushkin's arm. " Are you quite 
 happy?" 
 
 " One can never be too happy." 
 
 "My object in coming is to ask you to spare me a 
 portion of your happiness. I want to run away with 
 your wife for a week." 
 25 
 
.386 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " My little wife ! What to do with her ? Already she 
 loves you ever so much better than she does me." 
 
 " Do not fear. She loves you above everything in 
 heaven and earth, and all that lies between them. She 
 positively must accept the invitation to Princess Ghe- 
 dimin's ball." 
 
 The girl wife, watching at her window, sees how her 
 husband vehemently draws away his arm from Zeneida 1 s 
 retaining hand. Zeneida does not shrink ; she takes 
 possession of his arm again. 
 
 " Hot head ! She will not be staying with the Prin- 
 cess, but with me ; I will be her chaperon. Since I 
 gave up the stage my house has become strictly proper ; 
 I have held no more frivolous gatherings; since the 
 Szojusz Blagadenztoiga made its final decision I have 
 had no more conspirators coming near me ; no need 
 for masquerades or riotous meetings ; I live a quiet, 
 secluded life. The Czar has sent me the Order of the 
 Cross as an amend for my recent dismissal ; and, 
 noblesse oblige, the bestarred Zeneida no longer con- 
 sorts with Diabolkas. So, have you not the courage to 
 trust your wife to me if I keep vigilant watch over 
 her?" 
 
 " But to what purpose ? If you want to beg some 
 favor of the Czar for me you little know me!" 
 
 The woman at the window saw Pushkin fiercely slash 
 off the heads of the asters at his feet. 
 
 " I know you perfectly well. You have made up your 
 mind to stay on here at Pleskow, see the grass grow, 
 hunt hares, shoot wild cluck, smoke the house out, play 
 ombre, and discourse of dogs and horses. It will be 
 your ambition to keep a good cellar, be known as a good 
 dancer, to occasionally slash an officer or two in duels, 
 and to leave your papers and periodicals uncut. You 
 
HOW TO ROB A MAN OF HIS WIFE 387 
 
 would have just strength and energy for such a life ! 
 But there are others interested in your wife's coming." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " First the Szojusz Blagadenztoign ; then the Czar." 
 
 "At my little Bethsaba's coming?" 
 
 " Do not interrupt me ; I must speak quickly. You are 
 aware that this second return of Araktseieff has made it 
 impossible to stave off rebellion. His violent measures 
 have had so imbittering an effect that no one any longer 
 attempts to defend the life of the Czar save I alone. 
 Perhaps because I am a woman ; yet there have been 
 illustrious examples enough to show that women can be 
 as cruel in the matter of blood-shedding as men, and 
 even in a more cold and calculating fashion. Any out- 
 break initiated by Kubusoff's air-guns or Kakhowsky's 
 infernal machine, or, as Jukuskin has planned, by an 
 opportune ball, giving the signal for attack upon the 
 entire imperial family, would have no beneficial result. 
 It would simply bring about the overthrow of the em- 
 pire, the war of the knife and the axe versus bayonet, 
 the war of rags versus gold lace, inaugurating a reign 
 of chaos which would make the country bless the re- 
 turn of despotism, and welcome a peace, even though 
 accompanied by their old fetters. Now the Czar and 
 Czarina must not be hurt ! This, reason, not sentiment, 
 dictates. 
 
 " My plan is as follows : The Czarina's physician has 
 advised her being taken to a milder climate. But her 
 Majesty will not hear of leaving the Russian domin- 
 ions, and the Caucasus she looks upon as a wilderness 
 in which it is impossible to live. She gives no heed to 
 the naturalists who describe the country, saying they 
 are mere flattering official reporters. But if a young, 
 unsophisticated little bride, presenting herself to the im- 
 
388 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 perial pair, were to petition as a special favor to be al- 
 lowed to go back with her husband to her beautiful 
 native land, describing this native land with enthusi- 
 asm of early and tender recollection, it is possible that 
 though this request may be refused, yet the Czarina 
 herself might be attracted to the idea of going to that 
 lovely land. The Czar worships his consort to such 
 a degree that he would accompany and stay with her 
 there ; with this result, that those who want to inaugu- 
 rate the outbreak with the violent death of the Czar 
 would be constrained to devise some other nobler, more 
 humane, more politic plan of action. On the Black Sea 
 the Czar will live his life without cares ; here we should 
 have the imperious favorite only to bring to judgment. 
 The constitution would be proclaimed in St. Peters- 
 burg without blood-shedding ; the army would declare 
 in its favor; and Czar Alexander will be free to choose 
 either to fulfil the universal wish of his people, and 
 come back as their beloved monarch, or, if he prefer 
 it, to embark on board a ship in the Black Sea and 
 sail away to seek the hospitality of say, the Sultan of 
 Turkey, if he wish it. Anyway, his life would be pre- 
 served." 
 
 The young wife at the window sees her husband kiss 
 the hand of his guest. He is won over already. Ze- 
 neida has succeeded in carrying off the wife from the 
 husband. 
 
 "Those whom you love are loved indeed, even when 
 they are tyrants !" said Pushkin, deeply moved. 
 
 "It. is the holy cause, not the Czar, I wish to save !" 
 
 "Both! Come, I will trust my wife to you ! Take 
 her with you ! Let her, with her lark's song, bid the 
 storm to cease !" 
 
 Bethsaba standing at the window sees her husband and 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 389 
 
 Zeneida come quickly back to her. " Truly you are an 
 enchantress !" she thinks. 
 
 Pushkin comes in to his wife. 
 
 " Only think ! your kite has been brought back from 
 the far end of the town ! Here is your godmother's let- 
 ter, as kind as can be. You must do as she wishes. 
 How could you refuse an invitation so worded, espe- 
 cially as Zeneida undertakes to be your chaperon ?" 
 
 Bethsaba looked at each in amazement, and then 
 raised a threatening ringer and shook it at Zeneida. 
 
 "You are a fiend, after all, then. Well, then, come 
 along, and let's see what kind of ball -dress my god- 
 mother has sent me." 
 
 This may be called a thorough capitulation. 
 
 The box was brought in and opened, the most ex- 
 quisite of ball-dresses produced, and, with Zeneida's aid, 
 duly tried on. In it Bethsaba showed herself to her 
 husband. 
 
 " Shall I look lovely? Shall I turn many men's heads ?" 
 
 " Every one of them !" 
 
 "Oh, take care, take care! You must not embrace 
 me ; you will crush my lace !" 
 
 This is the way in which a man is deprived of his wife 
 in the very midst of his honeymoon. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 THE FEAST OF MASINKA 
 
 THE Assumption of the Virgin Mary is, according to 
 the Russian calendar, at the end of August, thus twelve 
 days later than according to the astronomical cal- 
 endar. By this we see that the Czar of Russia has 
 
390 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 power to command even the sun. As, according to the 
 Russian calendar, every four hundredth year is short of 
 three days, in the course of twenty thousand years it 
 will be summer in the winter quarter, and winter in the 
 summer quarter, in Russia. The Czar can even effect 
 this. 
 
 However, now it is the beginning of autumn, the best 
 time of all the year in St. Petersburg. The days are short- 
 er and not so hot; the nights are moonlight; and, one- 
 third of Russian women being named Mary, there is a 
 festive tone in all houses; and at night, when fireworks 
 begin, there are more stars to be seen on the earth than 
 in the sky. 
 
 Korynthia, too, was a Mary ; hence had every right 
 to celebrate the day. 
 
 The summer palace of Prince Ghedimin on the island 
 of the Neva rivalled in magnificence the Imperial Win- 
 ter Palace in St. Petersburg. The ballroom was large 
 enough to hold a thousand people. 
 
 Among those invited were the Czar and Czarina, the 
 Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses, their relatives then 
 staying at the Russian court, the Czar's brother, the 
 Grand Duke and Duchess of Weimar, the Prince and 
 Princess of Orange. All combined to add brilliancy 
 to Prince Ghedimin's ball. And yet Maria Alexievna 
 Korynthia was far more anxious to know if Zeneida 
 and Bethsaba were coming than about any other of 
 her guests. 
 
 Fraulein Ilmarinen and Frau Pushkin had certainly 
 written in most courteous and gushing terms the day be- 
 fore, stating that they would be there. Russian women, 
 by-the-way, surpass even French women in the art of 
 writing flowery notes especially if they hate each other. 
 But every one knows the value of such promises. No 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 391 
 
 one can write the day before, " I shall be having a head- 
 ache to-morrow," but an hour before the ball any one 
 can send a note of excuse by the footman, " I am in de- 
 spair at being unable to come. I have such a violent 
 headache." Of such excuses women possess a perfect 
 arsenal. 
 
 To the Princess's great content, however, instead of 
 the expected letter of excuse, both ladies put in an ap- 
 pearance ; and in good time, before the dance music 
 had begun, it being etiquette to arrive before the im- 
 perial guests. Zeneida always knew what was the right 
 thing to do. 
 
 Fraulein Ilmarinen was wearing for the first time that 
 evening the order conferred upon her by the Czar; Beth- 
 saba, the ball-dress sent her by her godmother. She 
 was strikingly lovely; even the close vicinity of Zeneida 
 did not detract from her charms. 
 
 Korynthia, rising, advanced to meet them ; first she 
 greeted Bethsaba as the married woman, then she turned 
 to Zeneida. Zeneida forestalled her greeting. 
 
 "You forestall me!" exclaimed the Princess. "Of 
 course, queens ever give the first greeting." 
 
 " Not so, Princess ; but they who desire to offer their 
 congratulations on their hostess's name-day." 
 
 And the two ladies shook hands. They knew that 
 every eye was upon them, wondering how they would 
 meet. 
 
 Both were well-seasoned warriors. 
 
 The ballroom was so arranged that all about were 
 small groves of exotics, with openings just large enough 
 for a couple to retreat into, and talk scandal or flirt, as 
 the case might be. Little tables were there placed, and 
 footmen went in and out handing refreshments. 
 
 Korynthia drew Zeneida into one of these floral re- 
 
392 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 treats, and, as they sat down together, whispered laugh- 
 ingly into her ear : 
 
 " You understood me. I expected no less from your 
 clever intellect." 
 
 Zeneida, adopting her tone, replied in equally laugh- 
 ing voice. 
 
 "That I have brought you the dove out of her 
 nest?" 
 
 "Just so that we have thus become allies?" re- 
 sumed the Princess. 
 
 " An alliance ad hoc, in the language of diplomacy," 
 interpreted Fraulein Ilmarinen. 
 
 " For the object of discomfiting a third adversary," 
 filled in Korynthia. 
 
 " And meanwhile England and Russia have signed de- 
 fensive and offensive alliance " 
 
 "In order, as allied powers, to conquer Paris," laughed 
 Korynthia. 
 
 " The same Paris who keeps the golden apple, in 
 order to give it to whom ?" exclaimed Zeneida, with a 
 peal of silvery laughter. 
 
 " You are a demoniacal woman !" 
 
 "That I know. Your Highness has said it already." 
 
 " How you remember everything ! But, to change 
 the subject, three of your admirers are here to-night. 
 We will soon settle the third of them. See, your little 
 protegee is already absorbed. Her former admirer, Chev- 
 alier Galban, has caught her like a spider in his web. 
 Do not be uneasy about her ; she will not go back heart- 
 whole. We will see to that. We understand one another !" 
 
 " Perfectly, Princess." 
 
 No harm to her ! All loss is gain to her, but I do 
 not think it will be her last conquest. For any one 
 who has begun as has my goddaughter, it requires no 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 393 
 
 great sagacity to prophesy how she will go on. No need 
 for us to grieve about her." 
 
 " Nor in such a case can we show any mercy." 
 
 " So, for the present, peace is concluded between us ! 
 After that, war to the knife." 
 
 " I first pull down my flag." 
 
 " Oh, that is only tactics, Fraulein Ilmarinen. Wom- 
 en never capitulate. That we both know too well. Do 
 you know, I have never had opportunity to see .you so 
 close, though I have been so curious to get a good view 
 of you. Tell me, do you dye your hair with saffron to 
 make it such a lovely gold color?" 
 
 The golden hue of Zeneida's hair was a natural beau- 
 ty ; but she whispered confidentially to the Princess : 
 
 " No ; saffron has too pungent a smell. I dye my 
 hair with berberis roots in which purple snails have 
 been steeped." 
 
 " And I never could understand how you get that ex- 
 quisite complexion. Do you use violet roots ?" 
 
 Zeneida laughed ; the blush which heightened her 
 complexion should have been answer enough could she 
 have told the truth. But she had come here to lie; 
 therefore answered, in laughing accents : 
 
 " Oh, Princess, the preservation of this complexion is 
 a perfect science. I have an old book, published in the 
 times of Poppaea, which contains the receipt." 
 
 " Oh, among other things does that receipt advise lay- 
 ing a slice of beef upon one's face on going to bed ?" 
 
 "Yes, that and other things. I could send you the 
 book ; though, in truth, you do not need it. It would be 
 the Graces clothing Anadyomene." 
 
 "Oh, you are as magnanimous an adversary as that 
 French naval captain who shared his powder with the 
 Englishman and let himself be shot by him. To that I 
 
394 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 can only answer as did the Persian king to the Arme- 
 nians : * What use is it to send me your sword if there- 
 with you do not send me your arm also ?' Of what use 
 the secret of the cosmetic if you do not make me an 
 adept in that bewitching smile which none may resist ?" 
 
 " Princess, you are just like Napoleon, who had the 
 art of raising a fallen foe." 
 
 " This time we are not foes, but allies." 
 
 The common foe (Bethsaba) here interrupted the ami- 
 cable warfare by coming up to put the naive question if 
 she might dance the first polonaise with Chevalier Gal- 
 ban ? She was heartily laughed at. 
 
 "You may do whatever you like. You are a married 
 woman now." 
 
 What is known as a polonaise in the court balls of 
 St. Petersburg is a promenade round the ballroom in 
 short dance step, performed by the whole company ac- 
 cording to the fancy of the first couple. We are there- 
 fore not to understand under that appellation the wild ma- 
 zurka of former days, when the floor groaned under the 
 stamp of the dancers. That was the dance of a period 
 when every Polish nobleman was as good as the king ; 
 this is the dance of a time when every Polish nobleman 
 is equal to a peasant. 
 
 In former times both Czar and Czarina had headed 
 the dance ; and it happened to have been a polonaise in 
 which Alexander had wounded the feelings of Elisabeth 
 for the sake of the beautiful Korynthia Narishkin an 
 insult the former had never forgotten. 
 
 The arrivals of the great, greater, and greatest person- 
 ages put an end to conversation. Once arrived, people 
 formed themselves into a circle and waited for the august 
 couple to make the round of the ballroom, after which 
 the polonaise began. 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 395 
 
 Zeneida was presented to all the foreign princes, and 
 received so much homage that in its intoxicating atmos- 
 phere she might well have lost sight of the one intrusted 
 to her care. She was, however, a tried general in such 
 campaigns, and knew how to keep the whole field well 
 under supervision, even to the slightest detail. Atten- 
 tively her eyes follow Bethsaba. She sees Chevalier 
 Galban, with languishing expression, whisper in her ear ; 
 sees the young wife hasten up to her godmother with 
 glowing cheek ; sit down by her and then listen, sur- 
 prised and startled, betwixt laughter and tears, to what 
 her godmother is saying to her. She even divined what 
 it was that was being said to her. She also saw the 
 Czarina address Bethsaba, and enter into conversation 
 with her with gracious condescension. And she saw, 
 moreover, that these thousand guests here assembled 
 to discourse sweet nothings, to jest, to trifle away the 
 hours with orgeat, sorbet, and punch, were often the 
 bitterest enemies, full of deadly hatred, ready at the 
 first opportunity to give vent to their true feelings ; 
 that the men in their uniforms, stiff with gold lace, their 
 breasts literally sown with orders, who, hat under arm, 
 bowed low to the Czar or to each other, were thinking, 
 " To-day or to-morrow either you or I will be giving 
 each other a ' How d'ye do ?' with our heads, instead of 
 our hats, under our arm " ; that she, the singer, had but 
 to say, "I am singing for the benefit of the Orphanage," 
 and in an instant every sword would be out of its scab- 
 bard, and the men now dancing vis-a-vis to each other 
 would be running their swords through each other's bod- 
 ies, and the crowned chairs on the dais be overturned, 
 no one asking themselves, "Who is sitting on those 
 chairs?" or, worse still, that same dais be turned into a 
 scaffold. Conspirators and oppressors, murderers and 
 
396 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 executioners, all assembled in one ballroom ; every one 
 knowing who everybody is so well that when the master 
 of ceremonies, in mistake, called out, u Coup de main /" 
 instead of " Tour de main /" there was a shout of laugh- 
 ter. Only the Czar asked, " Why are the gentlemen so 
 merry ?" 
 
 All this Zeneida saw. The secret of every man there 
 lay in her hands. Ah, she saw, too, very well, what mo- 
 tive the gracious lady of the house had in giving this 
 brilliant entertainment. In order to seduce a young wife 
 from her truth ? Oh no ! But in order to discover the 
 key to a secret which he to whom it was intrusted had 
 not divulged to any one not even to his well-beloved 
 wife. 
 
 With the departure of the court from the ballroom 
 the whole assemblage, as etiquette dictated, at once 
 broke up. No one, moreover, was inclined to stay for 
 the sake of enjoyment on that occasion. 
 
 Zeneida, taking Bethsaba under her protecting wings, 
 went off with her to Kreskowsky Island. In the gondola 
 the young wife was very silent, and Zeneida purposely 
 abstained from asking her how she had enjoyed herself. 
 Even after the two women had divested themselves of 
 their ball-dresses Bethsaba remained dreamy and melan- 
 choty. The chill of the river made hot tea a necessity 
 before going to bed in the paradise reclaimed from the 
 marshes lurked ague. When they were alone together, 
 wrapped in warm dressing-gowns and drinking their 
 steaming tea, Bethsaba broke her melancholy medita- 
 tions with : 
 
 " But tell me, then, is this, too, a part of religion ?" 
 
 " What ?" 
 
 " That a Christian wife, should another man choose 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 397 
 
 to say to her, * I am wretched, dying for love of you, I 
 will shoot myself if you remain cruel to me,' be bound 
 to turn her love from her husband, and give it to that 
 other, that he may not be unhappy may not be forced 
 to misery and suicide." 
 
 "And they have told you that such is a woman's 
 duty ?" 
 
 " Yes. And if religion requires that woman's love 
 should resemble that of St. Martin, who, when he met 
 a shivering beggar, tore off half his mantle to give it 
 him, I will return to my heathen belief, in which I am 
 not required to distress myself about the welfare of any 
 one but of my husband." 
 
 " And all this was new to you ?" 
 
 " I could have cried outright when I heard it. I 
 thought my eyes would be burned out of my head; 
 I felt contaminated at listening to such words. The 
 mere separation from Alexander had already made 
 my heart as heavy as if I were mourning my dead ; the 
 very touch of another man's hand in the dance had 
 pained me as if, in taking it, I were killing a clove ; 
 when I laughed my heart accused me as if I were com- 
 mitting a theft; and with the laugh came the thought, 
 'And he has nothing now to cheer him. He is sigh- 
 ing for me, he is lonely, while I am merry !' And all 
 the time an evil curiosity was urging me on to hear 
 more, to sound to the very depths the quagmire from 
 which I was shrinking ; and so I feigned to listen will- 
 ingly." 
 
 "In that you did well." 
 
 " It would not have been good manners to run away, 
 would it?" 
 
 " You would simply have been lost. A woman should 
 never let it be seen that a man's seductive arts terrify 
 
398 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 her; a demonstrative repulse makes her at once his 
 prey. I was watching you you behaved admirably. 
 Your expression was that of a woman who does not 
 understand what is being said to her, who takes it all 
 as a joke ; and by so doing you led him on to speak still 
 more explicitly." 
 
 "That is just what he did. Only think, impertinent 
 fellow ! He actually had the audacity to tell me that 
 for love of me he had bought an estate but half a day's 
 distance from Pleskow, where he means to be spending 
 the winter and to be visiting us constantly. I was in- 
 clined to say, ' Oh, please, do not come!'" 
 
 "You did well not to say it; rather you should have 
 replied, 'Alexander Sergievitch will always be glad to 
 see you.' " 
 
 "That is what I did say. But then he sighed so 
 deeply : ' Oh, if you will only tell me one day Alexander 
 Sergievitch is going from home to-morrow !' I should so 
 have liked to give him a box on the ears for saying it!" 
 
 " But, instead of doing that, with naive, unconscious 
 expression you asked, ' What good would that be ? You 
 surely would not be coming to see me when my husband 
 was not at home ? All the world would know of it.' To 
 which he made reply, ' You are right. But you could 
 come to my castle.' " 
 
 " How do you know that ?" 
 
 " From what you have told me and from what I saw. 
 It was then that you felt inclined to cry." 
 
 "He said still more. 'You would have an excellent 
 excuse to leave home while Alexander Sergievitch is 
 away. Your mother, the Queen of Circassia, is in St. 
 Ann's Convent in Novgorod. You would only have to 
 say, " I am going to my mother, who has not seen me 
 since I was a child, to tell her of my marriage, and ask 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 399 
 
 her blessing upon it." ' So even my poor mother he 
 dragged into this infamy !" 
 
 " And upon that, leaving him, you took refuge with 
 your godmother ?" 
 
 " Did you notice that, too ?" 
 
 " In doing so you had gone to the right place, and 
 could tell all your troubles to sympathetic ears." 
 
 " Oh, if only you had heard what she did say !" 
 
 " I saw." 
 
 " How saw ?" 
 
 " By your face. Every word of hers was reflected on 
 your face. Did she not say, * Poor Galban ! If only 
 you knew how much he has suffered on your account ! 
 He has actually been on the point of making away with 
 himself. Then he wanted to bury himself in the cata- 
 combs of Solowetshk. It would but be giving a copper 
 to a starving man out of your wealth. It should be kept 
 secret ; no one should know. It is the way all we women 
 act ; there is not a single exception among us. Besides, 
 it is only paying back in the same coin. Every one of 
 us is deceived by our husbands ; you and I, and all of 
 us. At the moment that Galban made his confession 
 to you,, you may take it for granted that Pushkin was 
 vowing his love to some other woman, who would not be 
 so scrupulous as you." " 
 
 " So he really did say ; and yet more. This man 
 whose name my lips can never more utter is capable, 
 for sake of me, of exiling himself from St. Petersburg, 
 of renouncing his brilliant position, merely that he may 
 live near me ! He is capable, in his despair, of killing Al- 
 exander, me, himself, if I torture him longer. Oh, how he 
 has terrified me ! As soon as I get home I will tell it all 
 to Alexander, and, taking his hand in mine, will implore 
 him to run away to the other end of the earth with me." 
 
400 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " By so doing you would attain just the contrary to 
 what you desire. Just this: that Pushkin would be 
 aroused, and, not having been conceded permission to 
 return to St. Petersburg, would challenge Galban to go 
 to him, and their duel would end fatally. Do not be 
 afraid of him ! Fight him yourself!" 
 
 " I ? I fight him ? Galban ? I, a weak, foolish, cow- 
 ardly little creature, who tremble at every word he 
 utters ?" 
 
 "You tremble and are fearful because you believe 
 your heart in danger. But how if you knew that the 
 net is not thrown out to catch your heart, but Push- 
 kin's head that it is his life against which every 
 mesh has been woven ? Then you would not be a 
 coward." 
 
 "What do you say? that it is against Alexander's 
 life their plots are directed ?" 
 
 " Silence ! Question no further ! When we have re- 
 tired to bed, when we are quite alone, and there is no 
 ear to overhear us, I will tell you all, and will teach 
 you what you have to do. And now put your hair in 
 curl-papers. The day after to-morrow we have to at- 
 tend the grand farewell ball at Peterhof. There you 
 may tremble ; there show what a weak, innocent, timid 
 little wife is capable of when her husband's life is at 
 stake !" 
 
 "If that be so I will not be afraid; I will be bold 
 and sly as a cat! I have not the courage of myself to 
 pin a butterfly, but the man who threatens my Alexan- 
 der I could pierce to the heart. Mashallah ! I am the 
 daughter of my mother /" 
 
 Zeneida then instructed Bethsaba in a part which she 
 played to perfection to the end. At present, however, 
 we may not divulge the plot of the play. 
 
THE FEAST OF MASINKA 401 
 
 The link had been successfully forged into the chain. 
 At the brilliant farewell ball given by the Czar to his 
 royal guests at Peterhof, the Russian Versailles,' Betti- 
 saba had the honor conferred on her of being pre- 
 sented to the Czarina. The Czar had long known 
 her as Sophie's playfellow. It was he who led the 
 Georgian princess to tell the Czarina of the land of her 
 birth. Bethsaba, the little Scheherezade, half closing 
 her eyes that she might not see those around her, 
 began to tell of the land where winter is unknown. 
 Who could fail to be eloquent when speaking of his 
 native land ? Of sky clear as crystal, of air aromatic 
 with balsamic fragrance, of woods where the leaves 
 of the trees neither wither nor fall, of rivers which 
 never freeze, of fields always gay with flowers, of the 
 mighty ice-covered mountains which shut in the laugh- 
 ing valleys ; and where vital power and buoyancy are 
 diffused in grass, trees, ^water, and air, and the dwell- 
 ers in that sunny clime know neither sickness nor 
 decay ? 
 
 That to which all the most learned doctors in the 
 world had been powerless to persuade the Czarina 
 the change to another climate was brought about by 
 the enchanted chatter of simple, childlike lips. 
 
 Taking her husband's hand, the Czarina uttered: 
 
 " I should like to see that sunny land." 
 
 Those words, " I should like," are often more power- 
 ful than any mere word of command. 
 
 Courtiers and conspirators, who at this dazzling en- 
 tertainment had grouped themselves about the superb 
 fountains of the Sampson Springs, had not the slight- 
 est conception that in the course of a short ten min- 
 utes one delicate woman, with her rosy, childlike lips 
 would effect such a complete revolution that one peal 
 26 
 
402 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 of silvery laughter would blow to the winds their can- 
 non, their army, their plan of campaign. The fairy 
 tale of the Circassian king's daughter had this pre- 
 eminence over all other fairy wonders, that it extin- 
 guished the impending outbreak of a volcano by a drop 
 of water. 
 
 This drop of water had shone in the Czarina's eyes 
 when she said : 
 
 " I should so like to go there ! There I should get 
 well again !" 
 
 That same evening Chevalier Galban met Bethsaba 
 again. She was afraid of him no longer ; she had 
 learned from Zeneida how it beseemed her mother's 
 daughter to act. 
 
 At the close of the ball the Princess and Zeneida met 
 in the vestibule. They were waiting for their carriages. 
 From Peterhof to St. Petersburg people go by road. 
 
 The Princess accosted Zeneida with : 
 
 " It is settled. I thank you for your co-operation." 
 
 (Bethsaba was under the escort of Chevalier Galban.) 
 
 " We are quits now." 
 
 " The little goose has confessed all. She has gone 
 thoroughly astray. She even acknowledged that you had 
 helped her on." 
 
 "The chatterbox!" 
 
 "I fancy that she will be making somebody very, 
 very unhappy." 
 
 "So do I." 
 
 " Then the fight between us can begin afresh." 
 
 " I think not. I renounce any claim to console the 
 unhappy." 
 
 " Oh, you do not want to make me believe that you 
 are acting without personal feeling." 
 
THE FEAST OF MAS1NKA 403 
 
 " Certainly not. But what will result from this even- 
 ing's work will be a monster needing two mothers. The 
 one revenge ; the other love." 
 
 " And you choose revenge ?" 
 
 " I give you the second, Princess." 
 
 "I have not yet forgotten the diplomatic saying that 
 two only make a compact together in order that one 
 may deceive the other." 
 
 Meanwhile Prince Ghedimin had come up to conduct 
 his wife to her carriage. Seeing Zeneida, he started. 
 
 " Do just see," exclaimed the Princess, in an affected 
 tone, " how low-spirited he is! He has grown quite 
 melancholy. For days together I cannot drive him from 
 my side; he will not stir from me. If only he had some- 
 thing to talk about ! But all he can do is to knit his 
 brows and ruminate. I do beg of you, Fraulein Ilma- 
 rinen, in consideration of our alliance, to do me a favor. 
 You are a perfect enchantress just say one word to 
 him. I am convinced it will cheer him." 
 
 " Do you really desire it ?" 
 
 The look Prince Ghedimin cast upon Zeneida expressed 
 both fear and uneasiness. He was " the chosen dictator." 
 If Zeneida uttered the words " I sing," he must forthwith 
 draw his sword out of its scabbard, exclaiming " I fight!" 
 
 Zeneida attempted the magician's feat of curing the 
 Prince's melancholy with one word. 
 
 "The summer has quite left us, Prince, has it not? 
 Winter is upon us." 
 
 A sufficiently commonplace remark ! Imagine talking 
 about the weather ! 
 
 Prince Ghedimin acquiesced. 
 
 " And I fear we shall have a very unpleasant winter 
 if we * too ' do not go to the Crimea or the Caucasus to 
 luxuriate in a second summer." 
 
404 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 A very ordinary speech ! But that little word "too" 
 had electrified the Prince. He seemed a changed man. 
 His face brightened, his figure grew elastic ; surely a 
 miracle had happened to him ! 
 
 " Come, my love," he said to the Princess, and, to her 
 amazement, began humming an air from the overture of 
 the Czarenwalzers as they went down the stairs. 
 
 That woman is surely the devil in person ! She says 
 the most commonplace nothings, and, doing so, brings a 
 dead man back to life. 
 
 And yet the Princess has carefully weighed every 
 word spoken by Zeneida. Which can have been the 
 magical one ? There was none. The little word "too" 
 had escaped her attention. 
 
 And it was from that one word that the Prince knew 
 that the Czarina would go to the Crimea, and with her 
 the Czar. His breast was relieved of a heavy load. 
 
 Chevalier Galban escorted the ladies to their car- 
 riage, and Bethsaba, leaning out of the carriage-window, 
 looked back at him. 
 
 " I have caught her !" thought Chevalier Galban to 
 himself. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 UNDER THE COMETS 
 
 IN the summer of the year 1825 no oil was needed for 
 the streets of St. Petersburg, the nights were so light. 
 The first lighting of the lamps falls on the day the court 
 leaves Peterhof for the Winter Palace. The lighting of 
 the lamps, on this occasion, was looked forward to by 
 many. 
 
 A great plan was in course of operation among the 
 
UNDER THE COMETS 405 
 
 lower strata of society, which they had imparted nei- 
 ther to the matadores of the Szojusz Blagodenztoga nor to 
 the Szojusz Spatinia. 
 
 A succession of gloomy, rainy days came with the new 
 moon. When on the fourth day a keen north wind blew 
 away the clouds from the sky, people were astonished to 
 see near the silver sickle of the moon yet another won- 
 der, like a fiery sword a comet. So quickly had it come 
 that it was only perceived when in its full blaze of glory. 
 
 What is a comet? 
 
 Scientific men themselves do not know; how, then, 
 can poor ordinary mortals ? 
 
 A comet is the herald of pest, of war, of downfall ! 
 Let him who does not believe this show reason why he 
 is unbelieving. In wine-growing countries it is true 
 that a comet year is said to promise a good wine year. 
 But that does not affect the people of St. Petersburg, 
 where they only make brandy. And a comet has no in- 
 fluence upon the increase of brandy. On the contrary, 
 when there is any trouble brewing in the empire there is 
 always but little brandy consumed. It is a peculiarity 
 of the Russian that he does not drink when in great 
 trouble. When the head of the police learns that in 
 St. Petersburg, instead of a daily consumption of five 
 thousand casks of brandy, only two thousand are being 
 consumed, he redoubles the patrols. 
 
 The appearance of the comet only heightened the 
 general feeling of excitement. A comet is the prophet's 
 material symbol concerning which he can cry, " Look ! 
 the fiery sword has appeared too in the heavens !" 
 
 When Czar Alexander was leaving Peterhof he gave 
 orders that the Lord Chamberlain should precede the 
 Czarina, to see that her apartments were in order on her 
 arrival. 
 
406 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 It was evening when the Czar, with a small retinue, 
 neared the capital. Arrived at Alexander Nevski Mon- 
 astery, he called a halt, and, going into the church, com- 
 manded that a mass for the dead should be read the 
 next day. As he left the church, standing on the ter- 
 race, he cast one long look at the capital, lying before 
 him veiled in mist. The distant sounds came up to him 
 like the roar of the sea ; the traffic in the streets, the 
 murmur of voices mingled together like the buzz of a 
 beehive. 
 
 He stood there a long time, lost in meditation. The 
 giant conflicts of a quarter of a century rose before his 
 eyes out of the sea of mist, and he experienced that 
 agony almost beyond human endurance the conscious- 
 ness of an approaching end, the mighty tasks of his lite 
 still unaccomplished. He had risen so high that he 
 had half thought himself a god ; he had fallen so low 
 that there was not a man who would have changed 
 places with him. Napoleon and he had been the domi- 
 nating personalities of that quarter of a century. 
 
 Nor did that lonely figure on St. Helena look with 
 other feelings on the ocean surrounding him than does 
 Czar Alexander on the mist falling thickly over his 
 capital. This mist is vaster than the ocean, because it 
 is formed by the breath of man ; and as many breaths, 
 so many curses against him against him, once so idol- 
 ized. 
 
 The only difference between them is that Napoleon's 
 people ardently yearn to have their conquered hero 
 back, while this conquering hero has become a weari- 
 ness to his country. 
 
 And that comet in the sky is like an illuminated pen 
 with which an invisible hand is writing the fate of em- 
 pires and their rulers amid the stars. Alexander's 
 
UNDER THE COMETS 407 
 
 spirit was ever inclined to mysticism. He was filled 
 with forebodings and terrors. He was a believer in 
 fate and its portents. Comet and moon had both sunk 
 beneath the horizon of the thick sea of mist. 
 
 The Czar had an old coachman, known to every one 
 by his long, gray beard, which reached down to his 
 girdle. This coachman always drove the Czar long dis- 
 tances ; he was the most faithful servant he had. As, 
 on returning to his three-horsed troika, Alexander asked : 
 
 " Ilias, did you see the comet ?" 
 
 " I saw it, your Majesty." 
 
 " Do you know that the comet is the forerunner of 
 misfortune and mourning? Ah, well ! The Lord's will 
 be done !" 
 
 And he gave orders to drive to the noisy city. 
 
 People told each other that the Czar was about to 
 take a long journey ; whither was not known. He in- 
 tended taking the Czarina away from the inclement 
 climate of the capital to more genial skies; whither 
 he had as yet told no one. He was himself going first, 
 to secure quarters. Whenever he undertook a long 
 journey it was his custom to hear the Veni Sancte in the 
 Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan. It was his own 
 church ; he had built it, and had had it consecrated, and 
 from its threshold he would get into his travelling car- 
 riage. The entire body of the clergy would await him 
 there betimes, wearing their richest vestments ; his favor- 
 ite choir, too, would be in attendance, to sing the collects. 
 And the murmuring capital whispered to itself, when once 
 priests, Czar, and Grand Dukes were collected together 
 in the Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan : suddenly, 
 at the invocation, " Come, Holy Ghost !" a determined 
 man would start up from the crypt below, and, presenting 
 a loaded pistol, would say, " Come down, then, to him !'' 
 
408 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 And straightway church, holy images, Czar, Grand 
 Dukes, priests, and choristers would be blown into the 
 sky. An awful thought ! 
 
 Perhaps to be realized. Perhaps already for days 
 past some bold spirit one of the Irreconcilables has 
 been crouching below in the crypt, the coffins filled with 
 gunpowder, waiting for the signal of the bell which calls 
 the faithful together to carry out the awful deed which 
 shall overturn a mighty empire. The fatality was pre- 
 vented forbidden by the ashes of the dead. 
 
 The next day, at early morning, the Czar was not 
 driven to the Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan, 
 where the richly clad Metropolitan awaited him, but to 
 the Chapel of Alexander Nevski, where an ascetic at- 
 tired in black, the " Simnik," advanced to conduct him 
 to the mass for the dead. 
 
 An official paper has categorically described this cere- 
 mony. How the Czar knelt before the Icons ; how the 
 protopope Seraphim placed the New Testament upon 
 his head, lying prostrate in the dust ; how the Ruler of 
 All the Russias did penance in the poor Simnik's cell, 
 and how the Simnik told him of the degeneracy of the 
 people. The account being authentic, it, of course, does 
 not contain a single word that is not true. 
 
 A very different reason was it that had brought the 
 Czar within those walls. Here rested the ashes of his 
 three dead daughters, side by side for he had had 
 Sophie's remains brought here secretly. And it was 
 these three children, deep down in the earth as they 
 were, who combined to save their father, calling him to 
 their calm, secure resting-place. 
 
 What had the father to say to his dead ? The walls 
 alone can make reply. Official report is silent. 
 
 As the Czar left the church, in which he had heard 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 409 
 
 the mass for the dead to the end, the sun was just rising, 
 its reddish rays gilding the towers of the Church of SS. 
 Peter and Paul, and the cupolas and cross of the Isaac 
 Cathedral, through the sea of mist, the hollow tones of 
 the early bells vibrating long in the stillness. 
 
 All sounds were hushed as Czar Alexander looked 
 upon the capital of his vast empire for the last time. 
 And as the troika, drawn by its fiery team, rolled rapid- 
 ly away, the Czar turned to gaze, the better to impress 
 the scene upon his memory, a scene which the rising 
 mist was slowly, slowly shutting out from his view. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 
 
 THERE was alarm, almost panic, in the capital when 
 the news became known that the Czar had started by 
 the Sea of Azof and the Crimea to the Caucasus ! 
 Now people understood the meaning of the comet! It 
 was the agent which had upset the calculations of wise 
 men and fools alike. 
 
 Fearful curses echoed through the catacombs of the 
 Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan when it became 
 known that the Czar had changed his plans and gone 
 to Alexander Nevski Chapel ! The plots, the fulfilment 
 of which was to shake the world, had been a failure ! 
 The Czar had left St. Petersburg and betaken himself 
 to a remote spot nineteen hundred versts away, nearer 
 by thirteen degrees to the equator. He had betaken 
 himself to a land where conspiracies do not flourish; he 
 had escaped the giant trap laid for him. The plot of 
 the " Free Slavs " had come to naught, which was to 
 
410 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 have begun the work of freedom with the immediate 
 murder of the Czar. Now the plot formed by the 
 " Northern Union " came to the fore, which was to carry 
 out the constitution planned by " the green book," either 
 by forcing the Czar to initiate it or by his exile. In 
 either case, without violence to the crown. 
 
 The Czar started on September i3th, seven days be- 
 fore the date fixed for the grand review. By this means 
 the net of the military conspiracy was also rudely torn 
 asunder. 
 
 The members of the Szojusz Blagadenztoiga hastened 
 to confer at Zeneida's palace, not waiting invitation. 
 What was to be done now ? 
 
 Twenty-three among the twenty-four said the whole 
 thing must be begun afresh. The four-and-twentieth 
 was Jakuskin, who said : 
 
 " If all of you fall away, I remain firm. Discuss as you 
 choose ; I act." And with these words he left the meeting. 
 
 Hence the chase had begun. As the hungry wolf 
 pursues the hare through steppes, forests, marshes, so 
 Jakuskin pursued his prey. 
 
 The Czar had a six hours' start of his enemy, who fully 
 expected to get over the ground quickly enough to come 
 up with him. He had a strong Caucasian mare accus- 
 tomed to do its twenty hours a day and then graze on 
 any grass at hand. The rider was worthy of his horse ; 
 he, too, could content himself with a piece of bread and 
 bacon, and take his four hours' sleep under any shrub by 
 the wayside. 
 
 But the pursued went fast. Every day the Czar cov- 
 ered one hundred and fifty kilometres t.e., a twenty 
 hours' post only allowing himself four hours' sleep. He 
 was also accompanied by a large escort ; but that was 
 no impediment to Jakuskin's plan. 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 411 
 
 Once to stand face to face with him was all he needed. 
 He knew the way in which the Czar travelled. First a 
 picket of Cossacks, well in advance of the rest of the 
 cortege, that the Czar might not be incommoded by the 
 dust of their horses' feet. Then in the first carriage 
 the Czar, easily to be recognized by his coachman, Ilias, 
 his long beard fluttering like a couple of flags on either 
 side the carriage. With him is his adjutant, Count Wol- 
 konsky. The Count is a small, undersized man ; the 
 Czar a man of splendid physique tall, athletic, with a 
 head small in proportion to his size. Impossible not to 
 recognize him. 
 
 If only Jakuskin could get in advance of his in- 
 tended victim ! But this he could not do. The pur- 
 suer's worst hinderance was the moonlight, which, turn- 
 ing night into day, enabled the imperial cortege to 
 travel continuously, and thus prevented his stealing a 
 march. Fortunately, on the seventh day, when they 
 reached Kursk, the sky suddenly clouded over and 
 stormy weather set in. The moon no longer replaced 
 the sun, and driving by night was impossible but not 
 riding. 
 
 This gave hopes of overtaking the Czar. But these 
 hopes also were doomed to be frustrated. 
 
 He was to experience that nothing is impossible to 
 the great of the ear 4 . T hen the Czar is in haste 
 even da'' ss must yielo. Once when Jakuskin, gal- 
 loping pitch darkness over breakneck paths, 
 had g ( u.y up with the escort, it was but to see 
 that the Czar's way was illuminated. Men carrying 
 lighted torches were riding on either side of the impe- 
 rial carriage. 
 
 "All the better!" thought Jakuskin to himself. But 
 when he reached the high-road, he saw that as far as the 
 
412 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 eye reached, at a distance of three hundred paces, were 
 fagot heaps, serfs standing beside them with lighted 
 matches ; and as the Czar approached, one fagot heap 
 after another, blazing up, lighted the way. This went on 
 till break of day. The Czar rattled over the ground by 
 artificial light. 
 
 Thus the wolf hangs back, gnashing his hungry teeth, 
 when he sees fire-light. These bonfires along the high- 
 way destroyed his calculations. He must give up the 
 pursuit; now he might allow himself time for sleep. 
 
 He did not move from the hut in which he had taken 
 shelter for a whole week, till the second cortege came up 
 with the Czarina. She travelled more slowly ; that which 
 had taken the Czar twelve days she accomplished in 
 twenty-four. Jakuskin followed on her track. The jour- 
 ney came to an end at Taganrog. 
 
 Taganrog is a seaport on the Sea of Azof. It is a 
 modest little town which has twice been entirely deserted 
 by its inhabitants, having once been made over by the 
 Russians to the Turks; the next time, at conclusion of 
 peace, by the Sultan of Turkey to the Czar. At present 
 it is inhabited by Greeks. It was only due to the chance 
 throw of a . : e that it did not form the site of the cap- 
 ital of the"*. " When Czar Peter conceived the idea 
 of founding a '.%il on * - sea he was in doubt 
 
 *"* O ( ") 
 
 whether to build it i. . - marshes or the Tar- 
 
 tar steppes. The thro\ " .j 1 i knife d; ' ' d it. If 
 it had i lien point dowi d Taganro ] d now 
 
 be St. Petersburg, and the cupolas t " " Vlli ^ledral 
 
 would be reflected in the Sea of Azot *. > .in the 
 Neva. 
 
 Jakuskin knew beforehand that the Czarina would not 
 be staying here. There was not a single garden in the 
 whole town. No one planted a tree lest his neighbor 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 413 
 
 should gather the fruit. The first cutting wind that 
 blew would teach the Czarina's physicians that a place 
 is not Italy because it happens to be a certain latitude. 
 The Czar would seek some place in his vast empire for 
 his beloved invalid to rest where the trees are green 411 
 the year round. He has two places to choose between, 
 Georgia and the Crimea both countries a paradise to 
 the Russians, who for eight months in the year are ac- 
 customed to see nothing but icicles about them. 
 
 Hardly had the Empress Elisabeth installed herself 
 in the castle at Taganrog when the Czar started upon 
 his voyage of discovery. He set out in the direction of 
 Novocserkask. 
 
 Jakuskin concluded that he would go on to the Cau- 
 casus. All preparations were made to that end post- 
 horses and escorts bespoken as far as Tiflis. Easy to 
 choose a point where to lie in ambush. 
 
 But the Governor of the Crimea, Prince Woronzoff, 
 came, and had so much to tell of the lovely climate and 
 surroundings of the Crimea that the Czar, suddenly al- 
 tering his itinerary, turned bac>. nnd Jakuskin only first 
 knew of the change when he r ,1 day's journey 
 
 before the Czar. 
 
 Once more he poste , ,ached the 
 
 marshes of the Dead Sea, _ U( xi' ' -pirits of ma- 
 laria await the travel 1 " _, oatch up with the 
 Czar until his arriva/ 1 v jpol, reaching it at the 
 very moment when the ' Jity was blazing with illu- 
 minations in h yiq r of its liustrious guest. 
 
 But the r" ,J not go out again to enjoy the brill- 
 iant sight, xired out, he had gone to bed. Jakuskin 
 learned that the horses were ordered early next morn- 
 ing ; the Czar was going to visit Prince WoronzorTs far- 
 famed palace in Jusuff. 
 
414 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Jakuskin caught up the carriages at Bagdar; they 
 were empty. Leaving his carriage to pursue its way 
 along the high-road, the Czar, on horseback, accom- 
 panied by his escort, had taken the steep mountain- 
 path of Tsatir Dagh, a distance of some five-and-thirty 
 versts. 
 
 The Czar's whole journey was conducted in as capri- 
 cious a manner as if it had been dictated by some one 
 knowing that he was being pursued, and as if this zig- 
 zag progress from valley to valley by impassable paths 
 were intended to deceive. 
 
 And how many favorable opportunities had Jakuskin 
 missed ! The Czar had felt so free from care among 
 the simple Mohammedan populace that he had wandered 
 for hours on foot and on horseback among the exquisite 
 gardens and woods. As he strolled along the lovely 
 valley of Oriander, in full bloom, he had said, medita- 
 tively, " Here I would fain spend the rest of my days !" 
 Torturing care, melancholy's dark phantom, found no 
 place here ; they were as effectually scared away as were 
 the conspirators. At hn n physician's earnest entreaty, 
 at length leavin^ *' ~>ast, he turned to the interior 
 
 of the penin? ' m capital of the Tartar 
 
 Sultan, Bakt \ ^ . . e palace of the former 
 
 Ghiraids passed tl>. ,n. 
 
 All through tha;- .it and the following day there sat 
 at the gate of the 4 palace, beneath the cypresses which 
 have made Bakcsi Seraj so famous, a dervish. That 
 dervish was Jakuskin. 
 
 At length he had found the Czar. Wrapping him- 
 self in his burnous, he sat and waited until the Czar 
 should come forth. He is certain of his object. In his 
 girdle glistens a good sharp dagger. His hand does not 
 tremble. 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 415 
 
 And yet once more the Czar escapes him. He passed 
 close to him ; his dress brushed him by, and yet Jakus- 
 kin does not recognize him ; for, dressed as a Tartar 
 chief, the Czar had gone out of the palace quite alone, 
 without attendant of any kind. Had he but been 
 attended by a single person Jakuskin must have de- 
 tected him ; but one man alone escapes notice. The 
 Czar had wished to visit the " Valley of Tears," about 
 which the bridegroom of his favorite child had writ- 
 ten. This romantic fancy had saved him from the 
 assassin's knife. Thence he went, still in the same 
 dress, to a Mohammedan mosque and stayed through 
 a Moslem service. After which, not returning to the 
 palace, he met his retinue at the Stadtholder's castle. 
 There he found a despatch containing news of the death 
 of King Maximilian of Bavaria, brother-in-law to the 
 Czarina. 
 
 Alexander was alarmed. Should this news have 
 reached his wife it might, in her delicate state of health, 
 have seriously affected her. So, giving command to 
 start instantly, he did not return to the palace. 
 
 The dervish sitting at the gate awaited his prey in 
 vain. When at length he heard that the Czar had gone, 
 the latter had already got a considerable way towards 
 the other side of the isthmus. 
 
 And now the pursuit began once more, and with it 
 came to his mind the saying, " For him who has been 
 chosen by the man with the green eyes it is in vain to 
 whet the knife." He was growing superstitious his 
 imagination rilled with green-eyed spectres. 
 
 The Czar pursued his way by the Dnieper, thence 
 through the Nogai Steppe, and over the silk -growing 
 plains of Mariopolis to the shores of the Sea of Azof, 
 where his beloved consort was awaiting him. 
 
416 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Jakuskin followed close upon his track. As he crossed 
 a bridge, after passing Orekhov, his horse, stumbling, 
 broke his leg. Jakuskin had to proceed on foot. It 
 was not far from the post-house; thither he went. A 
 horse he must have at any price. 
 
 The postmaster led him to the stable. 
 
 " Look, my lord, I have not a horse left. The Czar 
 has just passed through ; every horse I had has been 
 taken for himself and retinue." 
 
 " And that one in the corner ?" 
 
 " That horse is not mine. It belongs to a courier just 
 arrived from Kiew, who went at once to bed and is fast 
 asleep." 
 
 "A courier who can allow himself to sleep on the 
 way cannot have any very urgent business. Perhaps I 
 can persuade him, for some good gold pieces, to sleep 
 on until I have reached Mariopolis on his horse, whence 
 it shall be sent back to him." 
 
 " You can try it, my lord !" It was not such an un- 
 heard-of thing in Russia for a courier to sell his horse 
 from under him. 
 
 " If he will not lend me his horse I'll put a bullet 
 through him," muttered Jakuskin to himself as he en- 
 tered the guest-chamber. 
 
 A young officer of a lancer regiment lay on the bed 
 wrapped in his cloak. 
 
 " Good-day, comrade," said Jakuskin. 
 
 " Don't talk of good days," returned he, his teeth 
 chattering. " I am shivering all over. That confounded 
 Caucasian fever has laid hold of me on the road. It's 
 all up with me. And I had a despatch to deliver into 
 the hands of the Czar himself wherever I might come 
 up with him. General Roth sent me delay is most 
 serious. And I cannot sit my horse ! I say, my dear 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 417 
 
 fellow, do me a good turn and take charge of this de- 
 spatch. Take my horse. The Czar has gone to Tagan- 
 rog. Hasten after him ! Give him this despatch into 
 his own hands. Those were my orders ! As for me, 
 I shall only be able to report myself to him in the next 
 world. Lose no time, I entreat you." 
 
 Nothing could have been more welcome to Jakuskin. 
 A despatch which must be delivered into the Czar's own 
 hands the Czar ! 
 
 " Heaven be with you, comrade ! You may die with 
 an easy mind. I will faithfully carry out your commis- 
 sion ; and if you have a betrothed I will write her where 
 you breathed your last, and will send your mother your 
 watch and chain. You could not have found a better 
 substitute." 
 
 The officer probably died and was buried in that pict- 
 uresque steppe. Jakuskin, mounting his horse, placed 
 the despatch intrusted to him in his breast-pocket. 
 
 But the horse given over to him was a sorry jade, and 
 not accustomed, as his other had been, to the steppes. 
 He could make but few miles a day, and whenever he 
 came to a bridge his rider had to dismount and drag the 
 animal across. He would not go over a bridge. 
 
 Owing to such a bad mount he did not reach Tagan- 
 rog until four days after the arrival of the Czar. 
 
 One day Jakuskin found out that the Czar intended 
 going from Alapka to Mordinof. Now there was but 
 one road to it, and that only a bridle-path a path called 
 by the natives " the ladder." It well merited its cogno- 
 men, rising so steeply up the mountain-side that some- 
 times the horse has to force its way through narrow 
 clefts in the rock. 
 
 Jakuskin hired a Tartar guide, who was to lead him 
 through the forest to the summit of '"the ladder." 
 
 27 
 
41 8 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Before dawn, in the dead of night, he made his start, 
 to be there before the Czar. He was dressed in the 
 costume of a Tartar huntsman, a double-barrelled gun 
 slung over his shoulder. Emerging from the thick forest, 
 he saw the steep mountain path before him. Over a 
 spring, gushing from out the rocky wall, grew a bush 
 some ten feet distant from the path. The path itself 
 was intercepted here by a cleft in the rock, across 
 which a narrow bridge had been thrown, only wide 
 enough for one horseman to pass at a time. 
 
 The most favorable spot possible for an ambush. 
 
 " Hi, lad ! How green your eyes are !" 
 
 The man laughed a hollow, low laugh, as though out 
 of an empty cask. 
 
 " You're right ; my eyes are green." He spoke, and 
 disappeared in the thick underwood. 
 
 Bethsaba's tale came into Jakuskin's mind. He drew 
 back behind the tree, loaded his gun, and waited. 
 
 A vulture flew over him with hoarse scream ; he took 
 the waiting man for a corpse, so motionless was he. 
 
 At length was heard the long-expected signal. The 
 path groaned beneath the tramp of horses. The horse- 
 men must perforce pass quite close to him. He could 
 aim as slowly as he pleased. 
 
 Only when the horsemen came up did he see how he 
 had been the sport of fate. They were only outriders ; 
 the company passed; the Czar was not among them. 
 
 Where could he be ? 
 
 " Confound you, you fellow, with your green eyes !" 
 said Jakuskin, with an oath. " You will be making me 
 into a superstitious fool !" 
 
 There was no sign of the Czar. He had escaped. 
 
 It is a delicious autumn day, such as is only to be met 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 419 
 
 with in the enchantingly beautiful mountains of Tauris. 
 The air is so pure that the distant ranges are brought 
 near; silvery threads of gossamer flutter from every 
 branch ; the autumnal tints are an exquisite mixture of 
 gold and red ; the turf is strewn with pink anemones. 
 That little spot of earth is the orchard of the world. 
 There is a perfect forest of fruit-trees here, groaning 
 under their ripe loads. Fallen apples and pears cover 
 the ground. Blackbirds sing their praises to the owner 
 of the woods, who grudges of his plenty neither to the 
 wanderer nor to the birds of the air. The giant trees, 
 which in other countries only bring forth wild pears, 
 are here laden with luscious fruit sweet as honey. What 
 can be gathered with the hand is the passer-by's; the 
 rest is the property of the owner. 
 
 Czar Alexander was delighted with the wealth of fruit 
 in this fairy-land. He began to believe in Bethsaba's 
 fairy stories. 
 
 In one place, where the path led up through two rocky 
 walls, the sound of bells came wafted down below. 
 
 The Czar, accosting a Tartar who was coming down 
 the rocky path towards him, asked : 
 
 " Where are those bells which are ringing ?" 
 
 " In St. George's Monastery," was the answer. 
 
 " Who built a monastery in this wilderness ?" 
 
 " It is the former Temple of Diana. Among its ruins 
 the black monks, who came here from Mount Athos, 
 have settled." 
 
 " So this is, then, the famous Temple of Diana in 
 Tauris?" returned the Czar, suddenly recalling to mem- 
 ory the tradition of the lovely priestess of Artemis, 
 Iphigenia, of whom poets from Euripides down to 
 Goethe have sung. " And is this temple a monastery 
 now ?" 
 
420 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 The Czar never passed by a church without entering 
 it. And here was an attraction over and beyond his 
 yearning for the sacred building. It was a piece of 
 historical antiquity, a relic of classic times, as well as a 
 Christian asylum in a Mohammedan province. 
 
 " How does one get to the monastery ?" he asked the 
 Tartar. 
 
 " By a footpath which forks off from the ascent and 
 leads round past the monastery to the regular path again. 
 The horses would have to be sent on ; the way can be 
 only accomplished on foot. It is somewhat difficult to 
 find. I could guide you." 
 
 The Czar was now more than ever anxious to see it ; 
 so, alighting from his horse, he ascended the path with 
 the guide to the Temple of Diana. It led through a 
 thick forest. On either side picturesque groups of trees 
 lined the way; wild vines festooned the branches, form- 
 ing a green roof overhead, from which hung, bunches of 
 little round grapes, called in Tartar language " kacsi." 
 Other fruit-bearing trees abounded ; among them towered 
 two thorn-bushes bearing plums the one rosy red, the 
 other waxen yellow. The yellow plum has a large stone ; 
 the red one grows in the form of a grape, like cherry- 
 plums. 
 
 " What do you call this fruit ?" the Czar asked his 
 guide. 
 
 "The yellow is called 'alirek,' the red * isziumirek.' " 
 
 " Gather me some. I should like to taste them." 
 
 The guide, hastily breaking off some blackberry 
 leaves, formed them into a basket and filled it with red 
 and yellow plums. 
 
 The Czar was heated from the mountain ascent, and 
 thirsty. The ripe, juicy fruit, with its pleasant acid, was 
 very grateful to him. He left none. Only on returning 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 421 
 
 the empty basket to his guide was he struck by some- 
 thing in the man's appearance. 
 
 " Countryman, what peculiar green eyes you have !" 
 
 " Yes, so people say. I have never seen my own eyes." 
 
 After an hour's walking the Czar and his attendant 
 reached the classic ruins, now the monastery. He was 
 wet through with perspiration from the exertion of the 
 long climb on a hot autumn day; still overheated, he 
 passed through the subterranean passages, visited the 
 caves at one time appropriated to youths destined for 
 sacrifice, and those secret hiding-places cut out of the 
 rock whence Orestes had formerly stolen the golden 
 statue of Artemis. After which he visited the chapel 
 and remained some time in prayer. 
 
 On leaving the monastery he sent to seek his guide, 
 but he was nowhere to be found. No one had noticed 
 when he left them. The monks themselves conducted 
 the Czar through the woods on the way to " the ladder," 
 where his horse and horsemen awaited him. 
 
 Thus the Czar avoided passing the yew-tree where 
 Jakuskin lay in wait for him. 
 
 That same day the Czar was forced to confess to his 
 physician that he was feeling a strange languor in all 
 his limbs, accompanied by attacks of shivering. But 
 he would not be persuaded to take any remedies, 
 saying it would pass off of itself, and continued his 
 journey. 
 
 He visited the ancient Akhtia, which now bears the 
 high-sounding name of Sebastopol, was present at the 
 launch of a man-of-war, and inspected the Pontus fleet. 
 Despite the recurrence of fever, he was untiringly oc- 
 cupied throughout the day ; late in the evening he again 
 went into the church to pray. 
 
 When Jakuskin took the despatch from the dying 
 
422 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 messenger and placed it in his bosom the thought 
 flashed through his mind that it might carry infection; 
 but he dismissed it with : 
 
 " Bah ! How ridiculous to fear a scrap of folded 
 paper !" 
 
 And yet Jakuskin would have done himself and his 
 friends better service had he taken to his bosom one of 
 the horned serpents which lie in wait for the traveller 
 by the side of ditches, or in coach-tracks, rather than 
 that piece of paper. 
 
 He thought to himself, "Let the despatch contain 
 what it may, as long as I deliver it to the man for whom 
 it is intended !" 
 
 The story of the despatch was this : 
 
 In the Southern Army all preparations had been 
 made for the proclamation of the Constitution. Pestel 
 called the Russian Riego had up to now won over 
 one thousand officers, including even generals, to the 
 conspiracy. Pestel himself had been chosen as the 
 future Dictator, who, with the Southern Army, was to 
 hasten to aid in proclaiming the Greek Republic ; while 
 Ghedimin, as civil governor, was to construct the new 
 republic within the empire. It had been planned that 
 on January ist, 1826, the "Viatka" regiment com- 
 manded by Pestel should march into the headquarters 
 of Tultsin. And that very day every officer not among 
 the conspirators should be slaughtered. From Tultsin 
 they were to rush on to Kiew, take the commandant of 
 the First Army Corps, General Osten-Sacken, prisoner ; 
 proclaim the Republic ; incite the Poles to rebellion, and 
 declare the abdication of the Czar. Entire regiments 
 of infantry, hussars, and artillery had been won over to 
 this scheme, the commandants never even dreaming 
 what was going on about them. Privates were won over 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 423 
 
 by being told that the "German" officers were to be 
 massacred. To massacre the Germans is naturally 
 always a popular idea. The generals at the head of 
 the army, Osten-Sacken, Wittgenstein, Roth, Diebitsch, 
 were all Germans. 
 
 The whole of this bold plot had been wrecked by the 
 weakness of one man. One among a thousand, a certain 
 Captain Mairoboda, could not act against his conscience, 
 and confided to his commandant, General Roth, the 
 whole details of the conspiracy, giving the names of 
 the superior officers, the leaders of the whole affair. 
 
 General Roth had written fully to the Czar, sending 
 his report by an officer to his imperial master at Ta- 
 ganrog. 
 
 The officer was seized by fever on the way, which 
 quickly turned to typhus ; he was unable to press on to 
 Taganrog. Fate brought Jakuskin that way, that he 
 might be the one to replace the broken wheel of its 
 chariot. Such were the contents of the despatch he 
 had undertaken to deliver. With it in his bosom he 
 was himself converted into a witness against his fellow- 
 conspirators. 
 
 When at last he pulled up his poor staggering horse 
 at the gates of the imperial castle at Taganrog, his first 
 question to the officer on guard was if the Czar were here ? 
 
 The answer was that the Czar was here, and had not 
 left his room for some days past. It was understood 
 that the Czar was ill , but scarce four hours since an 
 imperial messenger had been despatched to carry the 
 joyful news to the Czar's mother that last night his ill- 
 ness had suddenly taken a favorable turn and he was 
 recovering. 
 
 " Heaven be thanked !" sighed Jakuskin, while his 
 hand sought his dagger. 
 
424 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Every circumstance combined to favor his awful 
 scheme. The guard of honor of the imperial palace 
 happened to have been taken from the "Viatka" regi- 
 ment, both officers and men of whom had been won over 
 to the conspirators. Well-known faces on all sides gave 
 him secret looks of intelligence. 
 
 With determined tread he hastened up the staircase. 
 The two grenadiers on guard at the door of the Czar's 
 room, saluting, let him pass. 
 
 In the anteroom was the officer on duty, who greeted 
 him by name as a friend. 
 
 " I seek the Czar, with an urgent despatch." 
 
 " Go through. You will find there Adjutant Diebitsch, 
 who will announce you." 
 
 Jakuskin opened the door. At the same time the 
 door was opened from the inside, and the man coming 
 out and the one going in met on the threshold. 
 
 Jakuskin trembled. The face before him had green 
 eyes. Or was it only his fancy ? The man was wearing 
 a Tartar costume; his expression at once so singular, 
 awe-inspiring, defiant, arrogant! Contempt, scorn, and 
 sorrow mingled in his look ; his eyes glittered like green 
 beetles. As he pushed by, an icy shudder passed through 
 Jakuskin. 
 
 Jakuskin staggered. 
 
 " I say !" he exclaimed to the officer, as he pointed to 
 the man passing through, " who is that fellow ?" 
 
 " Some messenger or other." 
 
 " Did you not notice what green eyes he has ?" 
 
 " Ton my word, no. What the deuce do his green 
 eyes concern you ?" 
 
 Jakuskin passed on to the inner room. Here he 
 found Diebitsch sitting at a table writing. He seemed 
 in haste, for he did not raise his head. 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 425 
 
 " Am I permitted to go in to the Czar ?" 
 
 " You are." 
 
 " Is he alone ?" 
 
 " Alone." 
 
 "What is he doing?" 
 
 " Sleeping." 
 
 " I am the bearer of an urgent despatch to him. May 
 I wake him ?" 
 
 "Wake him." 
 
 The general did not look up from his writing did 
 not observe to whom he was speaking. Jakuskin reso- 
 lutely approached the door of the adjoining room. It 
 seemed remarkable that the man he had addressed had 
 not perceived, by the wild beating of his heart, what he 
 was meditating ! A door only separated him from his 
 victim and that door stood open ! 
 
 The Czar was already very ill on his return to Tagan- 
 rog. Still he would hear of no remedies. It is a char- 
 acteristic trait of Russian czars to defy illness. They 
 will not believe that Death (their chief agent), who has 
 been so long in their service, who at their word of com- 
 mand has mown down rows of men like ears of corn, 
 should ever brandishing his scythe backward cut 
 down his lord and master. They are far too proud to 
 concede that the pale spectre should ever see their weak- 
 ness, hear their groans, limit their wills. Even Death, 
 when he knocks at their door, they would bid to " wait." 
 
 Or, was it not so ? Was it that the great colossal fig- 
 ure which, like a second Atlas, had so long borne the 
 whole world on its shoulders, had grown weary of the 
 burden ? That he who had been accustomed to hear 
 his praises echoed from the four corners of the earth 
 now shrank from hearing the murmurs born of revenge 
 and bitterness, and that his soul yearned for the rest of 
 
426 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 the grave ? Earth has nothing more for him to do. He 
 feels that he stands in the way of history. He has lost 
 all that his heart held dear; his last ray of sunshine, 
 his sick wife's smile, is but a fading light in the sky of 
 evening. Is it not possible that the giant, weary of 
 life, and becoming aware of a call to another world, 
 should, far from shutting out that call, open wide the 
 doors, saying, " Here am I let us go " ? 
 
 That day he had so far recovered that his illness 
 seemed entirely to have disappeared. Even his physi- 
 cian was deceived by the outward symptoms ; and late 
 that evening a courier had been despatched to the 
 Dowager Czarina in St. Petersburg with the glad news, 
 " Alexander out of all danger. No further fears for him." 
 (None further than some hundred thousand attempts at 
 assassination.) 
 
 But the next morning the benevolent spirit, which 
 comes alike to kings and beggars to ease them of their 
 burdens, had appeared to him, saying, "Come home." 
 For three days and nights Elisabeth had not left her 
 sick husband's room. She was his constant nurse, her 
 wifely affection his one consolation. 
 
 And to the Czar of All the Russias was granted the 
 happiness at the moment when every arm was turned 
 against him, when the altar itself at which he prayed 
 was undermined, when a whole vast empire was about 
 to crumble to pieces about him that for the last time, 
 by the rays of the rising sun, with the life-giving 
 warmth of the day-star bathing his brow, he could yield 
 up his soul to Him who gave it with the words "Ah, 
 le beau jour !" the happiness of having tender hands 
 to close his eyes, and to cross his arms upon his 
 breast. 
 
 Then the sick wife's strength broke down entirely, 
 
THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES 427 
 
 and she sank swooning to the ground. The two physi- 
 cians, hastening to her, lifted her, and carried her to her 
 apartment. The third man, who had been witness to the 
 dying scene, hastened back to the study to send off the 
 despatch to the Czarina-mother announcing the death of 
 the Czar, giving the messenger instructions to make all 
 speed in order to overtake the courier of the previous 
 night, and, if possible, precede him. After which his 
 next care was to send off a letter to the Grand Duke 
 Constantine, in Warsaw. 
 
 At that moment Jakuskin had entered. 
 
 Diebitsch hastened on with his writing, his mood 
 that of Russian cynical humor. " What is the Czar 
 doing?" "Sleeping." " Dare I wake him ?" "Wake 
 him if you like !" 
 
 Or had there been something in Jakuskin's face which 
 betrayed his plans, and was that why the adjutant's ut- 
 terances had been framed so sarcastically ? 
 
 The conspirator advanced into the room. At that 
 moment no one else was there. The Czar was alone. 
 Jakuskin saw him whom he had been seeking lying be- 
 fore him silent, motionless, with eyes closed, his arms 
 folded on his breast. 
 
 A mighty man invulnerable dead. Jakuskin dared 
 not draw nearer. Before the dead Czar he trembled. 
 
 He rushed staggering back into the adjacent room, 
 holding the despatch still in his hand. 
 
 " The Czar " he stammered. 
 
 " Is dead !" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " In this very hour." 
 
 "Why did I not arrive one day sooner, in order to 
 deliver up this despatch to him!" 
 
428 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 The adjutant thought this exclamation somewhat 
 odd. 
 
 " I give you a piece of advice," said he to Jakuskin. 
 " Make this letter into a bullet, and shoot yourself 
 through the head, and you will overtake him yet." 
 
 In truth, no bad piece of advice ! Jakuskin would 
 have done better had he followed it ; instead, he dashed 
 the despatch on the table, and flung from the room, ut- 
 tering curses on his fate. 
 
 At the gate of the palace he again came across the 
 man of the green eyes in the act of mounting his horse. 
 Looking at him with his cat-like eyes, he laughed. 
 
 "You came too late, eh?" cried he, and, driving his 
 spurs into his horse's sides, dashed away. 
 
 Jakuskin shivered and trembled in every limb. 
 
 Elisabeth, as soon as she had recovered from her 
 swoon, went back to her dead, and wrote the following 
 letter to the Czarina-mother from the chamber of death : 
 
 "BELOVED MOTHER, Our angel is already in heaven, and I 
 still am left on earth. Who would have thought that I, the invalid, 
 should have outlived him ? Mother, do not forsake me, who now 
 stand alone in this world of care and suffering. Our beloved has 
 recovered all his sweetness of expression in death ; the smile upon his 
 face shows that he is looking upon more lovely things in the next 
 world than here on earth. My one consolation is that I shall not 
 long survive him, and shall soon be reunited to him." 
 
 Her presentiment was a true one. Next spring brought 
 her to that land where Czar and serf alike are happy 
 and there is no difference between them. 
 
THE HERALD 429 
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 THE HERALD 
 
 THE science was not then discovered by which man 
 can compel lightning to convey his messages, and by 
 means of which any linen-draper nowadays can flash to 
 the other half of the world the news that a son is born 
 to him, or extend an invitation to his partner at the other 
 end of the kingdom to attend the christening next day. 
 
 At that period it took eight days before so important 
 a matter as the death of Czar Alexander could be trans- 
 mitted, by means of the fleetest Ukraine pony and its 
 rider, from the remote end of the Russian dominions 
 where it had occurred to the capital. The first messen- 
 ger bringing the news of the Czar's recovery, in fact, ar- 
 rived before the second. He was spurred by the good 
 tidings ; sorrow went a more leaden pace. 
 
 Upon the arrival of the good news, ten members of 
 the imperial house of Romanoff the eleventh, Grand 
 Duke Michael, being then at Warsaw with the Grand 
 Duke Constantine assembled to early mass in the 
 chapel of the Winter Palace, the highest ecclesiastical 
 dignitary being the celebrant. The chapel was crowded 
 with high officials, magnates, and officers of rank. The 
 choir intoned the collect, " God preserve the Czar !" 
 
 As the protopope was in the act of opening the jewelled 
 book upon the altar, and with trembling voice was about 
 to begin intoning the prayer for the Czar's recovery, 
 
43 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 suddenly, in the devotional stillness, a harsh voice, like 
 the sharp stroke of a bell, called out: 
 
 " He is dead already !" 
 
 The terrified congregation mechanically made a pas- 
 sage for the new-comer, whose light-green beshmet was 
 streaming with the mud of many a Russian province 
 the black mud of the Nogai steppes, the yellow mud of 
 Moscow, the chalky clay of Novgorod, and the greeny 
 slime of Czarskoje Zelo. In his hand the messenger 
 held a letter, with which he pressed forward through the 
 throng direct to the Grand Duke Nicholas. It was the 
 Czarina's letter to the Dowager Czarina. 
 
 The Grand Duke, taking the letter, opened it himself. 
 
 Then, hurriedly going up to the protopope, whispered 
 something in his ear. Upon which the protopope, cov- 
 ering the crucifix he held in his hand with crape, ad- 
 vanced to the Czarina Marie, saying : 
 
 " Thy son is dead !" 
 
 And, the choir breaking off their Te Deiim, in another 
 minute the burial hymn mournfully resounded through 
 the chapel : 
 
 " Lord ! send him eternal peace !" 
 
 The service which had begun as a Te Deum had end- 
 ed as a requiem. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 BEATUS ILLE . .' 
 
 WHAT, on this earth, is true happiness ? 
 To be able to dissociate one's self from the tussle and 
 tangle of the political arena. 
 
 There is no such hnppy man on this earth as your 
 
"BEATUS ILLE . . ." 431 
 
 landed proprietor, who only learns what is going on in 
 the political world from the columns of his daily paper. 
 
 In the morning he goes out coursing; starts three 
 hares, two of which are caught by his terriers ; this is a 
 real triumph. The third they let run ; this is a disgrace. 
 But on the way home his dogs seize and throttle a wild- 
 cat ; that makes up for the former vexation. His horse 
 stumbles over a stone ; that is a great misfortune. But 
 neither man nor horse are any the worse for it; and that 
 is a piece of good-luck. 
 
 Within easy distance live some men jolly fellows 
 to whom he can detail the morning's doings, and who, 
 in return, give their adventures. 
 
 At noon the wife awaits her husband's return to a 
 well-spread board, and she hospitably presses his friends 
 to stay. Cabbage with fried sausages is very acceptable 
 after such an active morning ! After dinner they find 
 they are just enough for a game of tarok, and the hus- 
 band can boast next day how he has conquered against 
 long odds. 
 
 The only political allusion made was when Pushkin 
 named the "fox" Araktseieff ; but even at that the post- 
 master shook his head disapprovingly. Why disturb 
 the harmony of the evening by such reference ? 
 
 Then, as the company is about to separate, the post- 
 master suddenly remembers that he has forgotten to 
 give Pushkin his newspaper, which he had brought in 
 his coat-pocket. 
 
 The paper was opened. Old-fashioned newspapers 
 used to be sent out in envelopes. What news ? 
 
 " A military review." 
 
 No one reads that. 
 
 Well, then, France : The French are content. How 
 satisfactory ! Turkey : Peace concluded with the Greeks. 
 
432 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Evident enough ! England : The Channel Fleet returned 
 to Dover. And a good thing too ! In Russia nothing 
 of interest has transpired. Heaven be praised ! 
 
 After which each, lighting his lantern, repairs home. 
 The master of the house seeks his wife's room. The 
 good little woman has had time for her first sleep, and 
 is not angry with his friends for staying so long at cards. 
 Good little wife ! Next day they rise late, because the 
 snow has fallen so deep in the night that their windows 
 are blocked and they cannot see out. What matter ! 
 One is not merely a Nimrod, but a Tyrtaeus as well. If 
 one cannot go forth to Diana, one can toy with the 
 muses at home ; they are good friends, too. 
 
 A man lights his pipe, paces the room, and poetizes, 
 pausing at every comma and full stop to give his dear 
 little wife a kiss ; she, the while, busied in doing her 
 hair in becoming fashion. If a rhyme be hard to find, 
 he takes his wife on his knee and looks into her eyes, 
 and the rhyme is soon found. 
 
 In the afternoon the friends turn up again the post- 
 master, a gentleman farmer, and a landed proprietor. 
 They have not been deterred by the heavy snow. Two 
 had driven over ; for the third, Bethsaba had sent the 
 sledge, that the party might be complete. She set out 
 the card-table. 
 
 " It is paradise perfect paradise !" 
 
 But once the serpent succeeded in wriggling into 
 paradise. 
 
 At the end of the game, when the long score had to 
 be reckoned up, in order to see how many copecks had 
 been won, the postmaster was fain to turn out all his 
 pockets to scrape together enough small coin wherewith 
 to pay his debts. In so doing he extracted several 
 letters. 
 
"BEATUS ILLE . . ." 433 
 
 " No news to-day ?" the gentleman farmer asks him. 
 
 The only newspaper in that part came to Pushkin, so 
 the neighbors always came to him to hear the news. 
 
 " What are you twaddling about ? Did I not bring a 
 paper yesterday ? Do you think a press correspondent 
 can afford to lie every day? Quite enough to have to 
 do it three times a week. Poor devil ! he must bless 
 the intermediate days. If you must have a paper, read 
 yesterday's." 
 
 " So we have, from beginning to end." 
 
 " I bet you've not read about the review." 
 
 " Right you are. Hand it over." 
 
 And it repaid the trouble of reading. For it stated 
 that each regiment of guards quartered in St. Peters- 
 burg had severally taken the oath of allegiance in the 
 chapel of the Winter Palace. And why not, if they 
 liked to do so ? It would do the soldiers no harm. Ah, 
 but it was to Czar Constantine that they had sworn alle- 
 giance. 
 
 "Czar Constantine? Who ever heard of a Czar Con- 
 stantine ?" , 
 
 In the great confusion the press had entirely forgotten 
 to officially announce the death of Czar Alexander. 
 
 " It's a slip of the pen," quoth the postmaster. " Per- 
 haps the correspondent was drunk. Why should they 
 not get drunk, poor devils, just once a year ?" 
 
 So the matter dropped. The writer of the article in 
 question had been celebrating his name-day too freely, 
 had got mixed, and had written, instead of Alexander, 
 Constantine. 
 
 In the next number, under errata, the mistake would 
 be rectified. 
 
 But the next number brought no correction; rather 
 the "error" was repeated twofold, threefold all edicts 
 28 
 
434 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 being published in the name of " His Majesty Czar Con- 
 stantine." 
 
 The death of Czar Alexander was never officially an- 
 nounced. 
 
 The worthy news-reading public only saw from their 
 Sunday papers what was going on. These papers gave 
 full details of the funeral services held in all the 
 churches of St. Petersburg, and the official odes to the 
 dead, which sang the fame of the deceased Czar in Rus- 
 sian, Latin, and Greek. 
 
 After that no one wondered that future edicts were 
 promulgated in Constantine's name ; he was the Czar- 
 evitch, and, according to Russian laws of succession, 
 heir to the throne. That the people did not love him 
 did not affect the question. What had the people to do 
 with it? The soldiers had sworn him allegiance, and 
 the soldiers are the empire. 
 
 And what matters all this to those "happy folk" in 
 the country-house ? Their home was dear to them in 
 Czar Alexander's time ; that Constantine now reigns in 
 his stead only makes that home dearer.- 
 
 The Winter Palace has got a new inmate more un- 
 welcome than the last. The former, as he wandered 
 silent and melancholy among his courtiers, was hard to 
 serve ; how much more the new one, who knouts, kicks, 
 breaks men's bones, and swears ! His cheerful moods 
 excite more terror than did the other's depression. 
 
 On these accounts the officer of the guards, among 
 whose private papers was a ukase, " by command of 
 the Czar" forbidding him to leave Pleskow beyond a 
 day's journey, might well be called a lucky fellow. 
 
THE TEMPTER 435 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 THE TEMPTER 
 
 ONE stormy winter's day, on which not even his neigh- 
 bors dared venture out of their houses to make their 
 customary visit to Pushkin, a sledge, amid the tinkling 
 of many bells, drove into the courtyard, and from out 
 the midst of his fur wrappings and high felt boots 
 emerged Chevalier Galban. 
 
 A host stifles all inimical feeling towards his guest, 
 the more so when he comes in such vile weather. The 
 road was invisible from snow-drifts ; it was impossible to 
 see where one was driving. 
 
 Pushkin welcomed Galban cordially. The pipe of 
 peace was lighted in the warm, cosey room. Bethsaba 
 prepared the tea. 
 
 " But, in the name of all that's wonderful, what 
 brought you out of St. Petersburg in such weather ?" 
 
 " H'm ! My dear fellow, that your own experience can 
 give you a good inkling of ! Your windows do not look 
 on to Nevski Prospect either ! You, too, have your 
 reasons for being here." 
 
 " Right you are," said Pushkin, blowing the smoke in 
 blue rings into the air, which rings gathered together 
 over Bethsaba's head, as an aureole over the head of a 
 saint ; and, ostentatiously drawing his wife towards him, 
 he put his arm round her waist as he said, " This is my 
 reason !" 
 
436 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Galban laughed. "Well, I certainly cannot lay claim 
 to such a reason ! As far as I am concerned, it is Ve- 
 teres migrate coloni" (Old cottagers take to wandering). 
 " The world is topsy-turvy. The old set have to fly for 
 their lives. Even Araktseieff is smoking his pipe at 
 Grusino." 
 
 " That surprises me. Czar Constantine was his ideal. 
 And I know that there is no one Araktseieff loves better 
 than Czar Constantine." 
 
 "Yes; if Constantine were the Czar, I, too, should 
 have known what I was about ; but he is not." 
 
 " Not Czar ?" said Pushkin, amazed. " But the papers 
 give his name in all proclamations." 
 
 " But, my dear Alexander Sergievitch ! You a writer 
 yourself, and yet are naive enough to believe what is in 
 the papers ?" 
 
 " The devil ! But one must believe them when they 
 announce that the Senate has proclaimed Constantine 
 to be Czar, and that the household troops have sworn 
 the oath of allegiance to him." 
 
 " All the same, Constantine is not Czar. We live, my 
 friend, in an age of miracles and absurdities. Official 
 papers do not publish everything ; still, in St. Peters- 
 burg people pretty well know what is happening. When 
 Constantine was proclaimed Czar, and from Grand Dukes 
 to guards all had duly sworn the oath of allegiance to 
 him, the President of the Senate, Lapukhin, produces 
 a sealed packet, upon which was inscribed, in the late 
 Czar's handwriting ' To be opened in cabinet council 
 after my death.' The seals were broken, and within was 
 found a document in which Grand Duke Constantine, 
 the Czarevitch, renounced his succession to the throne 
 in favor of his younger brother, Grand Duke Nicholas. 
 A second document contained in the packet was Alex- 
 
THE TEMPTER 437 
 
 ander's will, wherein he states that he had accepted 
 Constantine's renunciation of the throne, and naming 
 Grand Duke Nicholas as his heir." 
 
 "So, then, Constantine is not Czar, but Nicholas. 
 That is plain." Pushkin said this in a tone from which 
 it was easy to infer that it was a matter of indifference 
 to him. 
 
 " Not quite so plain as you think. Grand Duke 
 Nicholas refuses to accept the succession. He is a 
 follower of the old re'gime, which suffers no changes, and 
 now the war of high-mindedness runs high between St. 
 Petersburg and Warsaw. Grand Duke Michael, the 
 third brother, acting as intermediary, goes from one 
 brother to the other with the request that he should 
 accept the crown." 
 
 " Anyway, a display of great brotherly love, unexam- 
 pled in the world's history. Up to now princes have 
 been more apt to dispute a crown !" 
 
 " And what makes the farce complete is that two ac- 
 complished facts, contradictory to each other, have to 
 be surmounted. It is an accomplished fact that Con- 
 stantine has been proclaimed Czar and cannot relin- 
 quish the throne ; and, equally so, that he has taken to 
 wife Johanna Grudzinska, a Pole, a Catholic, and only 
 of aristocratic birth, three circumstances which render 
 it impossible for her husband to wear the crown. And 
 so, on the one hand, Constantine cannot relinquish the 
 throne ; on the other, he cannot ascend it." 
 
 " For all I care, let him stay where he is." 
 
 "You, in your Tusculum, can afford to make cheap 
 jokes ; but what are all the poor devils about the court 
 to do in such an imbroglio ?" 
 
 " Especially as his wife is more to the Czarevitch than 
 his crown !" 
 
43$ THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " No more of that ! With that overdrawn conjugal 
 love we do not throw sand into other people's eyes. I 
 had opportunity of putting that love to the proof. I 
 assure you that it needed no magic to have led Fran 
 Johanna to forget her Grand Ducal lover for a knightly 
 one. At that time she had not the right to call him 
 husband. Ah ! had not a more jDowerful feeling swayed 
 my heart" a suppressed sigh and secret side-glance 
 at Bethsaba here explained his words " truly in my 
 hands would have lain the power to present Grand 
 Duke Constantine the nineteen crowns of Russia even 
 a twentieth. It only needed me to have stayed one day 
 longer in the gardens of the lovely Lazienka." 
 
 Pushkin was disgusted at this bragging. He knocked 
 the ashes out of his pipe. Galban's boasting he valued 
 at the same rate as those ashes. 
 
 " I happen to know, however, that the Czarevitch and 
 his wife are so devotedly attached to each other that 
 Constantine would not exchange Johanna's head-dress 
 for Rurik's crown." 
 
 " But what if that is not due to Johanna's head-dress, 
 but is the fault of Rurik's crown ? A sensible man does 
 not shelter from the storm under a fir-tree if he means 
 to keep dry, and of all fir-trees the crown of a Russian 
 fir is the most dangerous in a storm. Every one knows 
 even the sparrows twitter it that the late Czar was 
 only saved by the kind agency of Caucasian fever from 
 the fatality which awaits every Russian czar. There are 
 many rumors, even, about his end. People talk of poison. 
 The bon-mot of Talleyrand is going the round : * It is 
 really time that Russian czars changed their manner 
 of dying.' One shudders to say it, how assassination, 
 treachery, conspiracy, await him who sits upon Rurik's 
 throne. The very kneeling-chair, the altar, the church 
 
THE TEMPTER 439 
 
 wherein he prays, are undermined. Is not this explana- 
 tion enough why one brother vies with another in re- 
 fusing the throne ? The most open expression of feel- 
 ing was that which caused the Czarevitch to explain 
 the reason of his hesitation to the Queen Dowager of 
 Saxony in these words : * Russian czars need to have 
 very strong necks, and I am not fond of having my neck 
 tickled.'" 
 
 So outspoken! Only agents provocateurs venture to 
 say such audacious things. 
 
 Pushkin shoved the amber mouth-piece so far into his 
 mouth that he could not bring out a word. Bethsaba 
 saw that her husband was on thorns, and left the room. 
 She had divined his wish, and ordered three sledges to 
 be horsed and despatched to fetch their neighbors, hin- 
 dered from coming by the snow-storm. 
 
 Galban, meanwhile, continued the conversation. 
 
 " You know very well who I was and what I am. My 
 whole life long I have been a courtier. I loved to serve, 
 to obey, to intrigue. Never did I have the least in- 
 clination to join a league of conspirators. I tell the 
 truth. But under the present circumstances a man's 
 ordinary loyalty is of no account whatever. The whole 
 country is at sixes and sevens. Even political leagues 
 are disrupted. By the death of the Czar the ground 
 has been cut from under their feet. There is no Czar. 
 Against whom should they conspire ? They have split 
 up into two parties. If Constantine take the crown, 
 Nicholas will immediately be proclaimed Czar as well ; 
 if Nicholas, Constantine will be set up against him. 
 The soldiers are ready to fire upon each other; each 
 party will fight for their legitimate head. Under the 
 counter battle-cry, ' Long live the Czar !' we shall have 
 a fine revolution breaking out. Nor can one tell who 
 
440 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 will come out conqueror. If Constantine's party win 
 the day, Nicholas's followers will be the rebels ; if 
 Nicholas's party gain the upperhand, it will be Constan- 
 tine's followers who will suffer. The position of a man 
 like myself is simply terrible. Whichever side I take 
 to-day, how am I to tell if, with all my loyal devotion, I 
 shall not to-morrow be proscribed as a rebel ? Under 
 such circumstances a wise man cannot do better than 
 to leave the chaos to take care of itself and flee to the 
 woods to hunt wolves. And, I trust, Alexander Sergie- 
 vitch, that we shall often join in that healthful pursuit 
 together." 
 
 " I am not allowed to go a day's journey from Pleskow." 
 
 "Well, then, my estate lies within your boundary just 
 a short winter day's distance. Let us get all the enjoy- 
 ment out of it we can as long as this chaotic world en- 
 dures." 
 
 Pushkin promised to return the visit shortly. 
 
 "Then, now we are friends and companions," con- 
 tinued Galban, garrulously. *' You may imagine the 
 lamentations under the tsinovniks in St. Petersburg. 
 Next March Czar Alexander was to have celebrated his 
 five-and-twentieth year of accession. Every man about 
 the court was congratulating himself on the prospect 
 of ascending a step on this ladder of rank ; instead of 
 being * vase blagorodie ' that he would become * vase 
 vomszkoblagoroclieV Numbers of them had had their 
 uniforms made beforehand, and had prepared their an- 
 swers for the forthcoming examinations. You are aware 
 that all of us, when we get preferment, have to undergo 
 an examination ? Luckily for us the professors give out 
 the papers in good time ; a golden key lets them out 
 the sooner. And now all this has come to naught. I 
 myself stood on the list, in the third rank of nobility, 
 
THE MOUSE PLAYS WITH THE CAT 441 
 
 as director of the St. Petersburg Theatre, and you fig- 
 ured in it in the rank of major. Three thousand as- 
 pirants ! most of whom had paid pretty heavily for their 
 chances into Daimona's fair hands. Money thrown 
 away now." 
 
 This dangerous conversation was brought to an end 
 by the noisy entrance of the three neighbors. Never 
 had doors opened to more welcome guests. They had 
 not, moreover, come to quarrel over involved questions 
 of succession, but to play tarok ; and it is an acknowl- 
 edged axiom tarok before everything ! 
 
 Chevalier Galban excused himself on the plea that he 
 only played hazard, and that for high stakes. 
 
 " Well, then, sit down and have a game of chess with 
 my wife. But look to your laurels ; Bethsaba plays a 
 good game." 
 
 Thus Chevalier Galban settled to a game that is the 
 greatest hazard in all the world, and is played for the 
 highest stakes of all. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 THE MOUSE PLAYS WITH THE CAT 
 
 THE men flung their cards upon the table as though 
 they meant to make it suffer, and after every game set 
 to quarrelling. " This card should have been played, 
 not that, for we were winning !" 
 
 The men said things to each other which, had not the 
 cards been in their hands, must have led to affairs of 
 honor. In the opposite corner of the room things went 
 much more quietly. Here they only spoke in whispers, 
 as is customary at chess. 
 
442 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " Sun of my life, now you can see of what a wounded 
 heart is capable ! Who other than a man made a very 
 fool by his love would be paying visits at such a time ?" 
 
 " Then you have not fled, in the political chaos, from 
 the capital?" 
 
 " I ? It is my element, in which I live as a fish does 
 in water. It is my natural element. There has not 
 been a change of sovereign throughout Europe at which 
 I have not assisted. When Mars armed himself for the 
 battle-field I was the Mercury who bore his message. 
 It is in order to win your smile that I have rent a career 
 in sunder, have thrust a princely crown from me." 
 
 " And if I do not smile ?" 
 
 " I should go mad." 
 
 " Oh, you are going back on your words ! The last 
 time we met you vowed you were mad for love of me ; 
 and now are you only beginning to take precaution 
 against it ?" 
 
 " Every day I begin to get mad afresh." 
 
 " That proves that every day your madness is cured." 
 
 " Does not my presence here prove that I am incur- 
 able ?" 
 
 " It was only the snow-storm that brought you here." 
 
 " The storm befriended me ! It gave me the right to 
 come." 
 
 " Oh, our house is always open to guests." 
 
 " Our house ! What torture in those two words !" 
 
 " Shall I say, < My husband's house ' ?" 
 
 " That is preferable ! That manner of speaking in the 
 plural only beseems kings, not even queens." 
 
 " Russian women are no queens ; they serve a praise- 
 worthy custom of antiquity." 
 
 " But your province is to make slaves." 
 
 " I have heard tell that the Turks once conquered a 
 
THE MOUSE PLAYS WITH THE CAT 443 
 
 citadel which they had been permitted to enter as guests. 
 Do you not perceive that you are misusing the rights of 
 hospitality ?" 
 
 ** Show me by one look that my presence here is ob- 
 noxious to you, and neither storm nor night will exist 
 for me. I will have my horses put to, and, despite 
 snow-drifts, despite the howling of wolves, I will set out 
 on my way." 
 
 " You are perfectly aware that you could find no 
 reasonable pretext for such a step that Pushkin would 
 not suffer it." 
 
 " I knew how it was ! Check to your king ! You will 
 soon have lost the game. Then you will jump up indig- 
 nantly, complain of the smoky atmosphere, and retire to 
 your own room. I shall sit down behind Alexander 
 Sergievitch's chair and criticise his play. That is the 
 way the best of friends fall out. One word leads to an- 
 other. I am hot-headed, so is he. Finally, I let myself be 
 turned out of doors. Now do you understand my game ?" 
 
 " Not yet. I can still castle my king. I will not al- 
 low you to leave our house." 
 
 "If you say 'our' house again I will leave it on the 
 spot. The very thought that the same roof covers me, 
 my happiness, and the robber of that happiness makes 
 even this paradise into purgatory to me. Check to your 
 king and queen !" 
 
 "Then we shall be compelled to exchange queens. I 
 take yours, you mine. 1 will not have you leave me. 
 Who knows, after all, if the angel be as white as she is 
 painted?" she added, with a fascinating glance at the 
 Chevalier. Zeneida had thus taught her. " You over- 
 looked this move. Checkmate!" 
 
 " By Jove ! you have won P 
 
 "Shall we begin another game?" 
 
444 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " The conqueror has the first move." 
 
 " Have }^ou heard anything since of my poor, dear 
 mother ?" 
 
 " It is well that you have touched on the theme your- 
 self. I assure you, had you not asked me I would not 
 have started it. And yet it was principally that which 
 brought me here. The queen wishes to see you." 
 
 " Really ? Since I was parted from her I have only 
 seen her twice, in the Winter Palace, on New-year's day." 
 
 " Now you will be seeing your mother face to face. I 
 have managed to obtain permission for you to visit the 
 queen in her convent." 
 
 "Have you got it with you?" 
 
 " Do you want to show it to Alexander Sergievitch ?" 
 
 "Oh no. It must be kept secret from him." 
 
 "Then leave the permit in my keeping. It is in very 
 good hands. Pushkin dare not accompany you himself; 
 it were an act of misdemeanor. As soon as you have 
 opportunity to use it, you can obtain the permit from 
 me." 
 
 " Yes. If Pushkin were leaving home for a few days." 
 
 " You send to me and I will forward it to you at once." 
 
 " But with this sending backward and forward two 
 whole precious days will be lost. Would it not be bet- 
 ter if I were to come and fetch it myself ?" 
 
 Clever little woman ! 
 
 " Were this happiness to fall to my lot I would set fire 
 to all four corners of my castle instantly upon your de- 
 parture, that, after you, no other guest should be re- 
 ceived there." 
 
 " Checkmate ! I led you on beautifully ! I merely 
 went on chattering to take your attention off the game. 
 It was a thorough stalemate. And now you can retire 
 to rest, Chevalier. Good-night !" 
 
THE MOUSE PLAYS WITH THE CAT 445 
 
 Bethsaba left the room. Chevalier Galban, however, 
 rose from the chess-table with a full sense of triumph ; 
 he was convinced that he had won the game. As a rule 
 he was accustomed to win two out of every three games 
 he played. The third he usually lost. 
 
 The tarok-players had perceived nothing of what had 
 passed. It had been a fearful battle that had been 
 fought at this table. Alexander Sergievitch had lost 
 a " solo " with Quint Major, tous les trots. It was a 
 thorough defeat. 
 
 " Two kings in my hand, and both taken a hundred 
 thousand devils !" swore Alexander Sergievitch. 
 
 " Yes, those kings," boasted the postmaster, proud of 
 his achievement. " We beat every one of those kings !" 
 
 " What !" began Chevalier Galban. " You beat kings ? 
 Upon my word ! A thorough republican movement!" 
 
 The postmaster's interest in the game was so sensibly 
 diminished by this speech that he proposed adjourning, 
 and the exciting game came to an end. 
 
 Pushkin accompanied his guests to their sledges, then 
 returned to Chevalier Galban. 
 
 " Well, how did your game go with my little one ?" 
 
 " I was thoroughly thrashed. She played with me 
 like a cat with a mouse. From whom did she learn to 
 play such a capital game ?" 
 
 "What, chess? Our dear Sophie Narishkin was her 
 teacher. They used to play together every day." 
 
 But that was not the case. It was not Sophie, but 
 Zeneida, who had taught the " little one " this game. 
 This time it had been the mouse playing with the cat to 
 her heart's content. 
 
446 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 THE ANTIDOTE 
 
 LOVELY, sunny December days followed on the past 
 arctic weather, with its snow-storms. Chevalier Galban 
 returned home, having received a promise from Pushkin 
 to make him a return visit very soon. Post traffic was 
 resumed; that is, communication by means of sledging 
 was once more practicable. 
 
 The official newspaper outdid itself in dulness. But 
 at the end of the so-called news of the day was an an- 
 nouncement to the effect that " on December 26^/1 Frau- 
 lein llmarinen would sing in the Imperial Exchange for the 
 benefit of the Orphanage!" 
 
 The concert was announced eight days in advance, in 
 order that all who desired to attend should have due no- 
 tice. 
 
 Pleskow to St. Petersburg is two good days' journey. 
 Allowing for the time for post to reach, Pushkin had six 
 days' notice. 
 
 Bethsaba, too, read the announcement, and said : 
 
 "Oh dear! Howl should like to be there, to hear 
 my dear Zeneida sing !" 
 
 Her heart was filled with dread. She, too, knew full 
 well Zeneida had told her what this concert and this 
 singing heralded. 
 
 From that moment Pushkin was utterly changed 
 morose, melancholy. Bethsaba read in his face as in an 
 
THE ANTIDOTE 447 
 
 open book. Had she not had the key to the hieroglyphics 
 from Zeneida ? She knew exactly what Pushkin was 
 brooding over; she knew perfectly well that *' Eleutheria" 
 was the name of his old love. And she concentrated all 
 her love upon him to hold him fast. 
 
 Was it such an unheard-of thing for men, renowned 
 statesmen, to forget, in their domestic happiness, an 
 appointment they had made with friend or enemy on 
 the battle-field ? How often it had happened that great 
 men, when once they had learned to know " the little 
 world of love," had been fain to think how good it 
 was to be "little" men! What happy people Lillipu- 
 tians must be ! 
 
 Vain endeavor ! 
 
 For two whole days Pushkin fought with himself ; then 
 told Bethsaba that he must leave home on December 
 24th. 
 
 Bethsaba never asked whither, nor for how long ; she 
 only said, " And you are not taking me with you ?" 
 
 '* No, love. It would be impossible for you to travel 
 in this cold weather ; the roads are so bad." 
 
 " But not too bad for you ! Can you not put off this 
 journey ?" 
 
 " Impossible !" returned Pushkin, irritably. 
 
 The tone in which he spoke forbade further question. 
 Bethsaba saw that the hour of the dreaded danger had 
 come. The poison was already working in his veins. 
 An antidote must be administered. 
 
 Going to her room, she wrote to Chevalier Galban : 
 
 " Alexander Sergievitch is making preparations for a journey very 
 shortly. I await your answer." 
 
 This significant letter she gave to a footman, with in- 
 
448 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 structions to convey it to its address as fast as a sledge 
 would take him. 
 
 After their conversation, Pushkin, seeing that his mo- 
 roseness betrayed him, forced himself to be in high 
 spirits. His friends said they had never seen him so 
 merry. Bethsaba alone was not deceived. 
 
 At last came the morning of the dreaded day. Both 
 rose early, that Pushkin might not be late in starting. 
 Just as he was getting into his fur coat, Bethsaba, throw- 
 ing herself on his breast, said, tremblingly : 
 
 " 1 cannot let you go without confessing a sin which 
 I have committed against you." 
 
 " Against me ? What can that be ?" 
 
 " I have been jealous." 
 
 " About this journey ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "You are a little goose ! Are you always going to be 
 jealous when I go away for a day or two ?" 
 
 " Only this time. I had been told that you were going 
 to visit your old love, and that is why you wanted to go 
 alone." 
 
 " Was it Galban who gave you this information ?" 
 
 " He said so when he was here. I asked him the 
 lady's name. He answered me he would tell it me if I 
 asked it again. When I saw you making ready for de- 
 parture, jealousy revived in me in all its strength. I 
 lost my judgment. Kill me ! Trample me underfoot ! 
 I wrote to Galban, entreating him to tell me the name 
 of her for love of whom my husband was leaving me, and 
 asked him to prove to me in writing the statement he 
 had made by word of mouth. Read what he answers." 
 
 And she gave him Galban's letter. 
 
 As Pushkin read the letter to the end the world 
 seemed to swim in blood before his eyes. 
 
THE ANTIDOTE 449 
 
 " ADORED LADY, If you would possess the desired document, 
 deign to visit my modest dwelling ; I cannot intrust it to strange 
 hands. Your ever-faithful slave, 
 
 " GALBAN." 
 
 Pushkin looked in amazement at Bethsaba. 
 
 Trembling, his wife fell on her knees. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! I did not know what I was do- 
 ing ! Do not beat me ; I am punished enough by the 
 shame I have brought upon myself ! I am forever dis- 
 graced !" 
 
 Pushkin gently raised his wife. 
 
 " Do not cry. You have been a foolish child, that is 
 all. In my eyes you are purer than the angels. And I 
 swear by Heaven that no shame shall ever attach to you 
 for this. Kiss me, and take comfort." 
 
 " And you forgive me ?" 
 
 " I have nothing to forgive. A woman has the right 
 to demand that her husband is as true to her as she to 
 him. Such truth I will preserve to you. Now embrace 
 me, and take good care of your dear little self. On my 
 return I will tell you who she was at whose invitation I 
 am undertaking this journey/ 1 
 
 Bethsaba knew her well " Eleutheria." 
 
 Pushkin, taking his weapons, sprang into his sledge, 
 giving his coachman instructions where to drive. 
 
 The jemsik shook his head. They would never reach 
 St. Petersburg by that road. 
 
 It was evening before Pushkin arrived at Galban's 
 castle. It was an old-fashioned building, standing in the 
 midst of extensive pine woods a hunting-box. 
 
 The antidote was working splendidly. 
 
 Happiness had never succeeded in causing Pushkin to 
 overlook an appointment; but jealousy is a strong anti- 
 dote. There are men enough ready to give up love, 
 29 
 
450 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 happiness, means, rank, for freedom ; but the world has 
 not yet seen the man who would sacrifice honor for it. 
 Place in one scale all the workings of passion, in another 
 those of jealousy the latter would weigh heavier. No 
 tyrant in the world is hated so intensely as is a rival. 
 
 Had Brutus been told on the Ides of March that Cas- 
 ca had paid court to his wife, it would have been Casca, 
 not Caesar, who would have died. 
 
 Zeneida had laid the train cleverly. She knew the 
 whole position. 
 
 For months past the two parties had been playing 
 with open cards. Their plans had long been known to 
 one another by means of secret agencies ; their very 
 names known. But each hesitated to begin the attack. 
 The members of the constitutional party were to be 
 found among the highest statesmen, and even generals. 
 That a collision would take place all were convinced, 
 but none knew when. But there was a key to the exact 
 period of the outbreak ; that key was the day of Push- 
 kin's leaving home. The day he left Pleskow to ap- 
 pear against his edict of banishment in St. Petersburg 
 was the signal. Chevalier Galban, Princess Ghedimin, 
 and the followers of Araktseieff were on the watch 
 for it. 
 
 Knowing this, Zeneida had planned the intrigue which 
 would effectually keep Pushkin out of the charmed circle 
 on the eventful day. 
 
 Among certain nationalities her little game might 
 easily have ended dangerously. Jealousy has often led 
 to fatal results. But in Russia social opinion is different. 
 At that time duels were almost unknown there. We 
 saw from Jakuskin's experience that the challenger was 
 simply despatched forthwith to the Caucasus. Bethsaba 
 risked nothing more than that her husband should be 
 
THE ANTIDOTE 451 
 
 sent to Georgia, in the event of his challenging Galban, 
 for Galban was certain not to fight. At the worst, it 
 would only lead to fisticuffs, and there the strorig- 
 wristed country gentleman would be more than a match 
 for the effeminate courtier. 
 
 In order that the noise of his approaching sledge 
 might not attract attention, Pushkin left it in the road, 
 and, taking his case of pistols and whip in his hand, 
 walked to the house. 
 
 It had a deserted appearance ; not even a dog barked 
 in the courtyard. It was after some time that Pushkin 
 at last succeeded in getting a dvornik to open the door 
 in answer to his repeated knocking. 
 
 "Where is Chevalier Galban ?" 
 
 "Ah, little master, that I can't tell. He went away 
 yesterday." 
 
 "Tell me no lies, or you shall have a taste of my 
 whip! Go and tell him that some one from Pushkin's 
 is here." 
 
 "Ah, soul of mine, you have come, then, at the right 
 time, for the Chevalier left a letter for the Pushkins. 
 True, he said it would be a lady who came for it; but I 
 suppose it's all the same if I give it to you ?" 
 
 So saying, he drew out a letter from the leg of his boot. 
 No matter if the scent of patchouli became slightly 
 mixed with the smell of leather. 
 
 Pushkin, tearing open the letter, read : 
 
 " MADAME, I ask you ten thousand pardons ; but this time it 
 was not your heart but your husband's head I was after. 1 hasten 
 to meet him beside the lovely woman whose name is ' Scaffold.' 
 
 "GALBAN." 
 
 " Drive back !" growled Pushkin to his jemsik. " Drive 
 as hard as your horses will go to St. Petersburg!" 
 
THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 It was too late. A day had been lost. Pushkin 
 could not possibly arrive at the scene of action on De- 
 cember 26th. A woman's intrigue had succeeded ad- 
 mirably. If all else were lost, the poet's head was saved. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THINGS had never gone so quietly in St. Petersburg 
 as during those three months preceding the 26th of 
 December. Night noises, public-house gatherings, had 
 ceased entirely. In the kabas, instead of the daily three 
 thousand pots of drink, not more than two hundred were 
 given out. It is a serious outlook when the Russian 
 people do not drink. 
 
 For five -and -twenty days Russia had been without 
 a Regent. What had occurred during those five-and- 
 twenty days ? 
 
 The vast empire had had two heads and two hearts : 
 one at Warsaw, the other at St. Petersburg. In St. 
 Petersburg, the Viceroy of Warsaw had been proclaimed 
 Czar ; in Warsaw, the Grand Duke Nicholas. 
 
 Their youngest brother, Michael, was on a visit to 
 Constantine when the news of Alexander's death at 
 Taganrog reached him two days earlier than it was re- 
 ceived at St. Petersburg. A grand gala was going on 
 at the time, which was stopped at once on receipt of the 
 melancholy intelligence. Constantine begged his broth- 
 er to return instantly to St. Petersburg and repeat his 
 declaration of renunciation of the succession. The 
 Grand Duke Michael crossed the deputation sent from 
 St. Petersburg. At the same time that he reached the 
 
" DEREVASKI DALOI " 453 
 
 capital with his brother's fresh repudiation, Labanoff ar- 
 rived at Warsaw with documents stating that Constan- 
 tine had been chosen, and containing the oaths of fealty 
 of the army, and the people's address to him bearing a 
 hundred thousand signatures. Every one had been re- 
 quired to affix his signature, on the previous Sunday, on 
 leaving the churches ; such as could not write had their 
 hands guided. But Johanna Grudzinska's power was 
 still victorious. The sealed document bore the inscrip- 
 tion, "To His Imperial Majesty." 
 
 " I know the contents," said Constantine. " I am to 
 separate from my wife and espouse the imperial throne. 
 Much obliged ! This document is not addressed to me ; 
 I am no * Imperial Majesty.' Take it back to those who 
 sent it." 
 
 And with seals unbroken he sent back the docu- 
 ments. 
 
 The Grand Duke Michael's mission met with similar 
 success. The letter of Constantine was addressed to 
 Czar Nicholas. He would not receive it. Constantine 
 had already been elected ; the army had sworn alle- 
 giance to him; the people had signed an address; im- 
 portant state papers were being prepared in his name. 
 It was unalterable. 
 
 Michael had to return once more to Warsaw and en- 
 deavor to move Constantine. This time he met the re- 
 turning deputation at Dorpat, taking back the bull with 
 seals unbroken. 
 
 Thus Russia had no Czar. The republicans said : 
 "All right. If they can't settle with one, let them try 
 two." 
 
 Suddenly came news in St. Petersburg that a seditious 
 rising had been detected in the Southern Army. 
 
 Now neither party could hesitate any longer. Pestel 
 
454 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 and ten leaders of battalions were arrested but this, far 
 from suppressing the insurrection, only hurried it on. 
 
 Late in the evening of the 25th of December Nicholas 
 decided to accept the crown. This brought things to a 
 crisis. 
 
 The manifesto of his accession was drawn up at two 
 o'clock in the morning, thus could not be made public 
 then and there. On the following morning the regi- 
 ments were to swear the oath to the new Czar, without 
 knowing what had happened to the one to whom they 
 pledged allegiance but a fortnight before. The con- 
 spirators passed the night deliberating what should be 
 done. 
 
 "All is ready for the war of freedom," said enthu- 
 siastic Ryleieff. 
 
 " But one thing is wanting," answered Zeneida Ilma- 
 rinen ; " and that is that the people do not know what 
 freedom is." 
 
 " True !" said Ghedimin. " The people do not un- 
 derstand our views. We ought to have begun by teach- 
 ing them what is freedom." 
 
 " We must begin by freeing the people from their 
 tyrants," broke in Jakuskin, " then they will soon learn 
 the meaning of freedom." 
 
 War was declared. The conspirators, going back to 
 their regiments, took possession, with their mutinous 
 troops, of the square in front of the Winter Palace in 
 the mist of early morning. Their watchword was 
 " Derevaski daloi " (throw away your touchwood). In 
 ordinary gun practice touchwood was used. Now all 
 hastened to change this for steel and flint. Then came 
 the cry, " Hurrah, Constantine !" Only Constantine 
 then ; and no word of freedom ? But that had been pro- 
 vided for. The mutinous soldiers set up the shout, 
 
" DEREVASKI DALOI " 455 
 
 " Long live the Constitution !" They had been made 
 to believe that " Constitucia " was the wife of Grand 
 Duke Constantine, and thus waxed enthusiastic for free- 
 dom as the Czar's wife. 
 
 Freedom itself lay deep, deep under the snow like a 
 buried acorn, needing the rays of the sun to awaken it 
 to vitality. On the morning of his accession, the first 
 day of his rule, the Czar was greeted by the tumult of a 
 revolution. They were the household troops, the crack 
 regiments, that rose against him. Their hurrahs re- 
 sounded from Czar Peter's Platz to the Winter Palace, 
 which Nicholas had exchanged for the little, quiet, old- 
 fashioned Anikof Palace, where he formerly resided. 
 Pale with terror, his generals rushed up to tell him of 
 the danger of the rebellion. Nicholas had seen one like 
 it before, five-and-twenty years ago. Then, a little boy, 
 he was sleeping peacefully in his bed, when his mother, 
 suddenly rushing into the room, snatched him up in her 
 arms, and ran the length of the dark apartments crying 
 for help. One of the doors she was passing opened, and 
 a pale man emerged from it. From a neighboring room 
 came the sounds of a furious struggle some one within 
 was fighting for his life. That some one was his father. 
 The pale man, Count Pahlen, tore the mother and her 
 trembling burden away from the scene of terror. This 
 episode Nicholas had never forgotten. He, too, now 
 had a little son, still slumbering in his bed. And he, 
 too, snatching up the child in his arms, dashed with it 
 down the stairs of the palace. But before handing over 
 his son to the soldiers he took his wife into the chapel. 
 There, kneeling side by side, they swore to die in a 
 manner worthy of rulers of the empire. That moment 
 of terror gave the Czarina a palsied movement of the 
 head which she never lost in after-life. Then the Czar, 
 
456 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 taking his son up in his arms, went out with him into 
 the courtyard. The battalion on guard at the Winter 
 Palace chanced to be of a Finnish regiment. Kalevaines, 
 despised as Tschuds by the Suomalai tribes they were 
 no Russians what interest had they in Rurik's empire ? 
 
 The new Czar, going up to them, his son in his arms, 
 tore open his uniform, and, presenting his bare breast to 
 the bayonets, said : 
 
 " If you have cause against me, fire at my defence- 
 less breast !" 
 
 And Pushkin was right. 
 
 The feeling of humanity is stronger than the thirst for 
 freedom. It protects the serf when the Czar persecutes 
 him, and protects the Czar when persecuted by the serf. 
 
 " Fear not. We will protect you !" cried Zeneida's 
 countrymen. 
 
 " Then to you I intrust my child ; take care of him. If 
 I fall, he is your future Czar" And he threw his pale 
 little successor, Alexander II., into the arms of the 
 most heavily oppressed of all his subjects. 
 
 He knew the hearts of men. By this action he had 
 turned their weapons from his own bosom upon his 
 assailants. 
 
 That one Finnish battalion defended the Winter Pal- 
 ace from the morning to the evening against the whole 
 revolutionary force. 
 
 Nicholas, however, springing on his horse, dashed 
 through the gates, followed by his generals. 
 
 In front of the palace surged a dense mass of the 
 lowest of the low, roaring out The Song of the Knife its 
 harvest-time had come. Riding into their very midst, 
 Nicholas said : 
 
 " What are you doing here, dear children ? This is 
 no place for you." 
 
"DEREVASKI DALOI" 457 
 
 The people looked at one another. 
 
 " Eh ! He is a kind man ! He calls us his dear 
 children, and tells us so kindly to go away from here. 
 Let's go home!" 
 
 And they dispersed. 
 
 Outside the Admiralty he was received by some well- 
 affected battalions. At their head he marched to the 
 vast Czar Peter's Platz, where was the insurgents' camp. 
 One -half of the square was occupied by them; the 
 other half by the troops loyal to him. Betwixt the 
 opposing armies was the colossal statue on its granite 
 pedestal, with hands outstretched, no one knows whether 
 to command or bless. One party of insurgents stormed 
 the castle on the other side of the frozen Neva ; the 
 other pressed on towards the gates of the Winter Pal- 
 ace, Nicholas wandering, meanwhile, undecidedly up and 
 down the great square, weighing on which cast of the 
 die hung the fate of his imperial house and empire. 
 He had first endeavored by every means in his power 
 to avoid the conflict had sent the most popular leader 
 of the army, General Miloradovics, to parley with the 
 insurgents and move them to submission. A ball had 
 struck him from his horse before he could speak ; it was 
 Kakhowsky who had shot him. The heroic general died 
 in the Czar's arms. Then he had sent the highest 
 Church dignitary of the country, the metropolitan Sera- 
 phim, in full canonicals, to parley with his enemies. 
 
 What cared they now for priests ? Seizing the vener- 
 able man by his snow-white beard, they had roared in 
 his ears : 
 
 " If you are a priest, read your breviary, and don't 
 meddle to your hurt in military matters !" 
 
 The insurgents received unexpected support. The 
 marines and half the grenadier regiments joined them. 
 
458 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Their numbers grew and grew; the square echoed with 
 the cry, " Long live the Constitution P 
 
 Then the Czar himself rode up to them. The rebels 
 saw him coming. It was a temptation to them to see 
 him ride up unattended. A cavalry officer galloped up 
 to him, a loaded pistol in his hand. 
 
 "What is your business?" the Czar asked, threaten- 
 ingly, as he came near. There was such a spell in 
 his cold look that the foolhardy man, hiding his face, 
 turned away his head and galloped back. 
 
 It was only by force that his followers could tear the 
 Czar away from the scene of revolt. 
 
 It began to grow dusk. 
 
 The armies of Gog and Magog went on ever increas- 
 ing, and darkness added its terrors to the rest. With 
 night, axe and knife would begin their work ; seventy 
 thousand mujiks would decide who should be Russia's 
 future ruler ! 
 
 The generals entreated the Czar to give the signal to 
 attack. He still hesitated. First, he tried to disperse 
 the insurgents by means of a feigned attack upon the 
 square of the enemy, and gave the Horse Guards orders 
 to this effect. They were received by a salvo of ar- 
 tillery, and the Horse Guards retreated decimated. At 
 that critical moment drums beating to attack were 
 heard advancing from Morskoje Street, and Grand Duke 
 Michael appeared at the head of the Moscow regiment. 
 He had just returned from Moscow, and, hastily sum- 
 moning those of his own regiment who had remained 
 faithful to him, advanced against the rebels, and the 
 fight began. 
 
 The noisiest of the insurgents, the heroes of the Bear's 
 Paw, cleared out of the square at the first volley; the 
 soldiers alone stood. fire. The heroes of freedom fought 
 
" DEREVASKI DALOI " 459 
 
 heroically. The poor soldier, however, who fell without 
 knowing why or wherefore, perhaps learned in his death- 
 agony that she for whom he had fallen was a living 
 goddess, who in some future time would make his de- 
 scendants happy the goddess of Freedom. 
 
 Until late in the night they held the square and re- 
 pulsed the attacks of the imperial troops. 
 
 Then, in the deep darkness, a division of artillery sud- 
 denly approached up Nevski Prospect. This broad, 
 radial street opens in such a manner on to the great 
 square, which lies between the Admiralty, the Winter 
 Palace, and Isaac Cathedral, that it commands both 
 sides of the square. 
 
 The fire of the approaching cannon might as easily 
 be directed against the Czar's army as against the rebels' 
 camp ; and nearly all the officers in the artillery were in 
 league with the insurgents ! They were received by the 
 latter with cheers as they unlimbered their guns at the 
 corner of the street. Of course, they had come to the aid 
 of the rebel army ! At that critical moment Grand Duke 
 Michael, dashing up to the foremost gun, snatched the 
 fuse from the gunner's hand, sighted on to the mass of 
 the insurgents, and the first thunder of cannon belched 
 forth into their ranks a fire of destructive grape. 
 
 That first cannon-shot decided the fate of the day 
 and of the epoch. Others followed. The whole division 
 turned their destroying force upon the insurgent army. 
 
460 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 
 
 BUT, meanwhile, what had become of the Dictator 
 the leader the active spirit of the whole movement? 
 He had been seeking all day for a man he could not 
 find himself. 
 
 How should he find him, when he was running away 
 from himself ? 
 
 The task he had undertaken was neither suited to 
 him physically nor morally. At the very first step he 
 had become conscious of the awful chasm into which 
 the whole affair he had undertaken must -drag himself 
 and all concerned in it. 
 
 Instead of an enthusiastic people, excited to heroic 
 resolves by the baptism of fire, he found a mob of 
 soldiers, fooled by the pretext that their leaders wanted 
 to steal away from them their former Czar, whom, by- 
 the-way, they hated, but to whom they had sworn al- 
 legiance ; a senseless band of soldiery clamoring for 
 " Constitucia," whom they believed to be the wife of the 
 Czar ! What would be the consequence did they gain 
 the victory to-day? To-morrow some new lie must be 
 fabricated for them, that they might not find out that 
 it was Freedom for which they had fought. What was 
 Hecuba to them, they to Hecuba? What had Freedom 
 and Life Guards in common with each other? How 
 would "Constitucia" better their condition? 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 461 
 
 True, their commanding officers had promised them 
 that " Constitucia " would double their monthly pay ; 
 but the people must be doubly taxed if the soldiers we're 
 to get double pay. Is that freedom ? And what would 
 ensue if he for whom they had been fighting, Constan- 
 tine, were to come among them ? Might he not come 
 from Warsaw at the head of the army he had brought 
 with him, and say, " You wanted me ; here I am. The 
 constitution I bring with me is not my wife, but a stout 
 stick !" What would follow then ? 
 
 And the people ? These poor wretches, resigned to 
 rags and misery, working day by day to keep body and 
 soul together. Seventy thousand mujiks, representatives 
 of the oppressed of the four corners of the earth not 
 the Russian people, but the dregs of all imaginable Slav 
 races Finnish, Lithuanian, Lapp, and Wallachian who 
 do not speak each other's tongues, who are only united 
 by their common misery. And their leaders ? A set of 
 runaway French adventurers. What do they understand 
 by Freedom ? The wrecking of a brandy-store or plun- 
 dering palaces and shops. A mutinous word sets them 
 on fire like straw, and a charge of grape-shot scatters 
 them like chaff before the wind. 
 
 His soul could find no guiding thought. He went 
 hither and thither, and could rest on no single idea. In 
 the course of his wanderings he came upon Ryleieff, in 
 whose face were reflected his own feelings. The poet 
 sadly grasped his hand. 
 
 " The time was not ripe," he whispered in his ear, and 
 hurried away. 
 
 In another street he met Colonel BulatofT in mufti. 
 Bulatoff had been chosen as military leader of the rebel- 
 lion, and here was he, going abroad in frock-coat and 
 tall hat. They did not wish to recognize each other, so 
 
462 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 passed hurriedly by, one on one side, the other on the 
 opposite side of the street. 
 
 Less than all had he the courage to go to Zeneida's 
 palace. He dreaded more to look into her face than 
 into the mouth of a cannon. She defied danger, while 
 he, who had dragged her into it, fled from it At last, 
 however, he could no longer delay seeking her. He 
 must cross Moika bridge. But the toll-keepers would 
 see him ; the canal was frozen, so, descending the steps 
 of the stone quay, Gliedimin prepared to cross the ice 
 in order to reacii the other side. 
 
 Scarce had he gone two steps before he heard his 
 name whispered behind him. Startled, he turned. From 
 under one of the arches peeped a well-known face that 
 of Duke Odojefski, a bloodthirsty braggart, who but that 
 morning would have mown men down right and left ; 
 now all his courage had oozed out, and he was hiding 
 under the arch of a bridge ! 
 
 "Don't venture near Zeneida's! Her palace is sur- 
 rounded !" whispered he, and crept back into his hiding- 
 place again. 
 
 What a sight! Odojefski in hiding! The colonel, 
 whose battalion is even now fighting on Isaacsplatz ; the 
 duke, whose palace is among the grandest of the capital, 
 whose family name is renowned in history, who himself 
 has claimed a place between Brutus and Riego in hid- 
 ing behind a snow-drift! And what is he about there? 
 Scarring his face with a stick of caustic to render him- 
 self unrecognizable. 
 
 Ghedimin lost his head completely. Turning back by 
 the other bank, he hurried home. There arrived, he 
 wrote on a visiting-card, "I entreat you, for Heaven's 
 sake, to come across to my grandmother's house. I have 
 important secrets to confide to you. " 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 463 
 
 This card he sent up by his house-porter to Koryn- 
 thia. He himself then repaired to his grandmother's. 
 It was his last refuge. 
 
 Without it was already night. The roar of cannon did 
 not cease. The watch-fires were the only lights in the 
 imperial capital. 
 
 Good old Anna Feodorovna was still alive among her 
 fortune-telling cards, her purring cats, and her faithful 
 Ihnasko, with whom she counted the days still remaining 
 before the New-year. 
 
 "Another New -year! What will it bring with it? 
 Who will live through it ?" 
 
 It is the day after Christmas day. If two tapers of 
 equal length are lighted on that evening, one can tell 
 who will die first, the husband or the wife, by seeing 
 whose taper is the first to burn out. 
 
 This time it was the wife's taper. 
 
 "Well, God's will be done," sighed the old woman, 
 " if I must go first. And it is time ; I have lived long 
 enough ! But I cannot but pity the poor old man, whose 
 life will be so lonely without me. He must not be told 
 that I am dead. Let him think I am still alive. And see 
 that every birthday and name-day he gets one of the red 
 nightcaps I always give him. Do you hear, Ihnasko?" 
 
 "Oh, don't keep on talking so much about dying, 
 your Highness," ejaculated the old man, with chattering 
 teeth. " All my bones are shaking, without that, from 
 the thunder of those cannons." 
 
 " Because you are a coward, and because you have 
 never been a soldier. The idea of being frightened at 
 the sound of cannon that are only inviting people to join 
 the great Christmas procession ! The Czar is now giv- 
 ing a gala banquet to the court and a display of fireworks 
 
464 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 to the people. Do you hear those reports ? They are 
 rockets. Now the great set piece is going off ! And 
 when six such volleys are fired, one after another, it 
 means that the Czar is raising his glass for a toast. 
 Oho ! how often have I attended such festivities ! Not 
 one took place without me. Ah, I was beautiful as a 
 young woman, and my voice was musical as silver. 
 Czar Paul was constantly asking me to sing him his 
 favorite song When by Evening s Latest Rays. It is a 
 pretty song still. But I have no one now to sing it to." 
 
 At that very moment came some one who liked to lis- 
 ten to the " pretty " song. 
 
 "Blessed be the Lord of all!" cried Anna Feodo- 
 rovna, clapping her hands. " Has her nest-bird remem- 
 bered his old grandmother ? What ? You have left the 
 Czar's brilliant banquet in the lurch, to come and pay a 
 visit to your poor old grandam on this second Christmas 
 day ? Now that is really very good of you, Ivan Max- 
 imovitch. But you must be going back. Don't on my 
 account do anything to excite the Czar's displeasure. 
 For the favor of the Czar is like a virgin's innocence ; 
 there must not be a breath upon it. If he has happened 
 to notice that you have left before the time, seek an au- 
 dience with him. Confess to him that you came away 
 early in order to visit your old grandmother. He knows 
 me, and used to be very fond of me as a little boy. 
 Ah ! I was quite a young woman then !" 
 
 The old lady was talking of Czar Alexander, only 
 twenty-seven years younger than herself. 
 
 " How often have I hushed him on my lap when, to 
 please his father, I sang the song he was so fond of 
 When by Evening's Latest Rays. Don't you know it ? 
 Come; I will sing it. Sit down on my footstool and 
 rest your head on my hands." 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 465 
 
 Ivan sat at his grandmother's feet. How restful it 
 was to be a child once more ! And the old lady began 
 her song. True, her voice sounded like some old harp- 
 sichord hidden away and forgotten in some king's palace 
 for five-and-twenty years, out of tune, and with some of 
 the strings broken ; but, all the same, she sang to her 
 grandson : 
 
 "'When by evening's latest rays 
 Thou art resting 'neath the trees, 
 And a silent peaceful form 
 Wakes thee out of sweetest dreams, 
 Thy true friend it is who nears 
 Seek, oh, seek, not to avoid him ; 
 For he thinks of you and brings 
 Joy, true joy, upon his wings.'" 
 
 Ivan kissed his grandmother's hand for her sweet song. 
 
 " But you are so sad to-day, Ivan ! Tell me, what is 
 troubling you ? Are you going, perhaps, on some journey 
 a long, far journey ?" 
 
 " A very far journey." 
 
 " Ah, I can guess whither !" she said, laughing. "You 
 are going to see your father, my beloved Maxim." 
 
 She had guessed truly ! 
 
 " You are right, dear granny. That is where I am go- 
 ing." (To the other world.) 
 
 " Then take him these kisses and a hundred more i 
 See, I cannot cry. Old eyes are forever weeping that 
 is, when one does not want to weep ; when one fain 
 would, there are no tears to shed." 
 
 Ivan Maximovitch wept in her stead. He was such 
 an "affectionate boy." 
 
 " Now, you see, you are going away and leaving me 
 here. And going without having married, without being 
 able to leave me your wife here in your stead." 
 30 
 
466 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " But I have married, granny dear," returned Ivan. 
 " And I came purposely to-night to present my wife to 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, what a happy day ! You are married you have 
 a little wife ! A dear, charming little angel of a wife ! 
 And I shall see her soon ? That I call indeed a Christ- 
 mas present!" 
 
 But then the old lady must needs temper the joyful 
 news with a little reproach. 
 
 " But why have you kept this to yourself until after 
 your wedding, when I have so often told you that I 
 specially wished that your wife should receive her bridal 
 tiara from my hands ? That was not right of you ! I 
 hope she is of noble blood." 
 
 " She is a Princess Narishldn." 
 
 "I suppose you sought the Czar's permission to your 
 marriage ?" 
 
 " He granted it, grandmother." 
 
 " Then I cannot guess why you should have kept it 
 secret from me. Perhaps she did not know Russian 
 when you married, and you were obliged to teach it her 
 first, that she might be able to speak to me, for I know 
 no other language I am a Muscovite." 
 
 Ivan let her suppose that to have been the reason. It 
 was nothing unusual. The St. Petersburg princesses 
 know but little Russian as little as, at that period, the 
 great ladies of Hungary knew Hungarian. 
 
 The sound of the bell at the outer door interrupted 
 their talk. The rustle of a silk dress was heard in the 
 adjoining room. Then Korynthia had fulfilled her hus- 
 band's wish ; she had come, at his entreaty, to meet him 
 at his grandmother's. There were good reasons why 
 Ivan had not gone to her instead of begging her to come 
 here to him reasons his wife knew well. In society 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 467 
 
 they were to be seen, she leaning on his arm, all af- 
 fection. But did the husband knock at his wife's door 
 the answer was "You cannot come in." So it had 
 been ever since the night of the 2ist of June. Ko- 
 rynthia was unusually pale ; her expression cold and 
 resolute. 
 
 "Thank you for coming," said her husband to her, in 
 a whisper; and, taking her hand, led her to his grand- 
 mother. " My wife, grandmother." 
 
 Korynthia bent one knee to Anna Feodorovna, then 
 presented her cheek to the kiss of the " mummy." To- 
 day she was bent on doing all that was required of her. 
 Even the old lady's hand that hand so withered and 
 parchment-like she kissed. 
 
 The good old woman was beside herself with happi- 
 ness. 
 
 " What a splendid creature i How charming, how 
 lovely she is ! How beautifully brought up ! And 
 what an exquisite ball-dress she is wearing. It is easy 
 to see that she has come from the Czar's ball." 
 
 Good old lady! She took Korynthia's gown for a 
 ball-dress. In her day silk dresses, trimmed with the 
 delicate lace Korynthia wore upon her dressing-gown, 
 were only worn at court balls. The grandmother had 
 not seen a fashion-book or interviewed a dressmaker for 
 the past five-and-twenty years. So she thought it was a 
 ball-dress. 
 
 " I do not know how the tiara I have been keeping 
 for you will suit that dress. Ihnasko, bring me my 
 jewel-case." 
 
 The old lady looked out the antique ornament set 
 with pearls and brilliants, almost worth an earl's ran- 
 som, and was in sore perplexity how to place it upon 
 Korynthia's giraffe-like mode of wearing her hair, not 
 
468 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 arranged to support it. Yet she must, at any price, see 
 it worn. 
 
 Korynthia suffered herself to be adorned. 
 
 "Ah! now you are handsomer than ever! Wearing 
 that tiara, you can well take her back to the Czar's ball, 
 to be the envy of all." 
 
 " No, grandmother, we are not going back," said Ivan. 
 "If you will allow us we will stay with you and pass 
 our Christmas evening here." 
 
 " But what will the Czar say to that ?" 
 
 " He knows that we are here, and has given us per- 
 mission to remain." 
 
 " Oh, if you have his permission, that is quite another 
 thing, and I shall be glad to have you here. But how 
 can I amuse you ? Can your wife play ombre ?" 
 
 " Oh yes." 
 
 " But my cards I play with every day are soiled. I 
 should be ashamed to bring them out." 
 
 " My wife will see about getting a fresh pack. Give 
 me permission to tell h'er where she will find some." 
 
 " Of course, dear boy. Ihnasko, you meanwhile can 
 be getting the card-table ready. Dear me ! How long 
 it is since I had a game of ombre ! Never since the lit- 
 tle dark duchess and the general's wife have been un- 
 able to mount the stairs. Then put out tea and cakes. 
 Now some logs on the fire. We will see who will be the 
 first to get sleepy when once we have warmed to our 
 game. I know I shall not !" 
 
 Meanwhile Ivan began speaking in French to his 
 wife, constraining his face to wear as calm an expres- 
 sion as though he were merely explaining whereabouts 
 in his room she would find the cards. 
 
 " I am lost. The insurrection which has broken out 
 to-day, and which, I believe, is already quelled, was 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 469 
 
 secretly instigated by me. Prince Trubetzkoi was the 
 nominal Dictator; in reality it was I. I was the guiding 
 hand, he only the mask. Trubetzkoi has already washed 
 his hands of it ; he has been to the commander-in-chief 
 and taken the oath of allegiance to the Czar. This leaves 
 me alone in the post of danger. The leadership falls 
 upon me. Nor would I put it back upon his shoulders. 
 The poor fellow has a young wife who is devotedly fond 
 of him. That I have taken no part in to-day's revolt 
 helps me not in the slightest, for, all the same, I was 
 Dictator. If the papers connected with this movement 
 are discovered I am irrevocably lost, and with me thou- 
 sands of the highest in the land whose names are in- 
 scribed in a book we call ' the green book.' This book 
 must be destroyed !" 
 
 "Will you intrust that to me ?" 
 
 "To whom else? All that I have I possess in com- 
 mon with you. My name, my wealth, my rank are yours ; 
 my honor, too, is yours. All this is now at stake; and 
 you can help me none other." 
 
 " Command what shall I do." 
 
 " Oh, do not speak so ! It is not command, but en- 
 treaty. For what I now ask of you I crave as ardently 
 as a man craves forgiveness from his Maker for his sins. 
 That book is in Zeneida Ilmarinen's keeping." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " I know that you hate her ; but without reason, I 
 swear to you ! But of what value is the oath of a des- 
 perate man ? No feeling has ever bound me to that lady 
 that could in any way hurt your woman's pride. It was 
 another tie far more dangerous to me but innocuous 
 to you. But you do not believe me. Nor do I ask it. 
 What I do implore is that in this hour of supreme 
 danger you should show yourself magnanimous. If you 
 
470 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 have had cause of anger against me, forget it for the 
 sake of the honor of the Ghedimin escutcheon, and lose 
 no time in going to Fraulein Ilmarinen's house with this 
 key, which unlocks the hiding-place. I well know the 
 sacrifice I ask of you in begging you to cross that thresh- 
 old. But I dare not go myself, for were I to be seen 
 in the vicinity of that house I should be at once arrested. 
 But no one will suspect you. See Fraulein Ilmarinen 
 without delay, and tell her of the imminence of the dan- 
 ger, of which she may know nothing. She may have 
 been informed, and, in that case, would certainly have 
 destroyed * the green book ' were it not locked away in a 
 place of safety, only to be broken open with great strength 
 and much loss of time. Throw the book on the fire, 
 and wait until you have seen it reduced to ashes; then 
 hasten back to rescue me from my desperate situation !" 
 
 " I will act as beseems a Princess Ghedimin." 
 
 " My life and honor I give into your hands." 
 
 " I know it." And, taking the key, Korynthia hur- 
 ried away. 
 
 "What a hurry the child is in !" said the old lady. 
 
 " She will soon be back." 
 
 "With the cards?" 
 
 "Yes; with the cards." 
 
 "Then, meanwhile, I will make myself smart, that she 
 does not find me looking so untidy." 
 
 The smartness consisted in the old lady's having her 
 new cap fashioned in 1807 brought to her with its 
 large yellow ostrich feather. This she duly put on, and 
 with it her two false curls. Her hair was white, the 
 curls black. 
 
 A full hour went slowly by. 
 
 " What a long time the child is finding the cards ! She 
 will be changing her dress, taking off her grand ball-dress, 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 471 
 
 and slipping into a cotton morning- wrapper. Wait a 
 minute ; it will be such fun. How it will make her 
 laugh ! I will sing the Matrimonial Ditty. It is really 
 very pretty. Bring me my guitar, Ihnasko. Ah, how 
 well I used to play it !" 
 
 And the good matron took the ancient instrument, 
 and, encouraged by her previous success, set about amus- 
 ing her little nest-bird with a cheery old song he sitting 
 there, the drops of cold perspiration on his brow. 
 
 " Listen 
 
 44 ' It is a good wife's part 
 
 To honor and obey, 
 In gossiping and dress 
 
 Time ne'er to pass away. 
 By daybreak she is up, 
 
 His breakfast to prepare ; 
 Then a good roast and wine 
 
 With him at noon to share.' 
 
 Isn't it pretty? This is the second verse : 
 
 "'A husband's part it is 
 
 With her wishes to comply, 
 And whatsoe'er she ask 
 
 In no case to deny. 
 Through fire itself to go, 
 
 If but her hand to kiss, 
 And ever to be slow 
 
 To mark what's done amiss.' 
 
 Ha, ha, ha !" laughed the good old grandmother, in praise 
 of her own merry ditty, and quite disposed, had Ivan 
 expressed but the slightest word of entreaty, to repeat 
 it for his benefit. " I only hope your little wife will soon 
 come back to hear it." 
 
 But Ivan was no longer paying attention to her a 
 sound was audible from without. There had been time 
 
472 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 for Korynthia to have gone to Zeneida's and to have re- 
 turned. He hurriedly opened the door. 
 
 But it was not the expected Korynthia who entered, 
 but one whom of all others he desired least to meet with 
 in this sublunary world Galban. 
 
 The Chevalier was not alone ; four grenadiers of the 
 Finnish regiment stood behind him. 
 
 The Chevalier, without taking off his hat in presence 
 of the lady of the house, or in any way saluting her into 
 whose apartment he was thus forcing an entrance, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Ivan Maximovitch Ghedimin, you are my prisoner ! 
 Surrender your sword !" 
 
 Without a word, Ivan, unbuckling his sword, handed 
 it to him. 
 
 Anna Feodorovna was furious. 
 
 "What does this fellow mean by breaking into my 
 apartment and presuming to take away my grandson's 
 sword, the sword of a Duke Ghedimin ? Who is this 
 gentleman ?" 
 
 " Who I am, madame, it is absolutely unnecessary 
 for you to know; but I will tell you who your grandson 
 is. He is the Dictator of yonder mutinous rebels who at- 
 tempted to murder the Czar and have been defeated." 
 
 "Ihnasko! Ihnasko !" shrieked the matron, "come 
 here, and laugh instead of me! I cannot; help me to 
 laugh. Look at this carnival buffoon who is perform- 
 ing here. He says that my nest-bird is the Dictator of 
 the rebels ! Where have you crept to ? Laugh laugh !" 
 
 Ivan said in a low voice, and in French, to Galban, 
 " I can exculpate myself to the Czar. There is no proof 
 against me." 
 
 " How about ' the green book ?' " 
 
 " I know nothing of it." 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 473 
 
 " Do not build up vain hopes, Ivan Maximovitch ! 
 You are thoroughly undone. Your wife has betrayed 
 you. No sooner did you give over into her hands a cer- 
 tain key which, as you are aware, opens a certain rou- 
 lette-bank at Fraulein Zeneida's than she went directly 
 to the President of Police and placed that key in his 
 hands. ' The green book' is now in good keeping." 
 
 Ghedimin felt his knees totter at these words, as 
 though the stars had fallen from the skies upon his 
 head. His head sank upon his breast. Horror so il- 
 limitable numbed his power of thought. The next 
 moment, however, the blood within him took fire ; he 
 trembled with rage and indignation. 
 
 " No, no ! It is impossible that a woman should be- 
 tray her own husband, and sacrifice her honor, her 
 means, by so doing! Such a monster the world has 
 never known ! Nor have I ever committed such grave 
 sins as to demand such sore punishment at God's hands !" 
 
 " You have a short memory, Ivan Maximovitch," whis- 
 pered Galban in his ear. " Remember the night on 
 which you conveyed to Korynthia the news of Sophie 
 Narishkin's death, and with it the news of Bethsaba's 
 flight with Pushkin. Did you not know that Sophie 
 Narishkin was her daughter, and that even then she 
 was awaiting Pushkin and not you ?" 
 
 This disclosure was a heavier blow to Ghedimin than 
 even his disgrace. With rigid, wide - open mouth he 
 gasped for breath ; his hands convulsively grasped at 
 some invisible phantom, his heart was nigh to bursting. 
 
 " But do not disturb yourself with jealousy, either on 
 account of Pushkin or of your wife. Pushkin will have 
 a ball through his head when and wherever he is found. 
 Your wife will receive back her wealth and rank, and 
 husband also, in compensation. You will perform your 
 
474 
 
 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 little walk to the scaffold ; but your fine possessions and 
 titles most probably your wife into the bargain will 
 be inherited by one who knows better how to value them 
 than you have done possibly by Chevalier Galban !" 
 
 At these words Ivan's arms sank helplessly to his side. 
 He saw and heard no further. Chevalier Galban's next 
 duty was to finish the condemned man's " toilet." 
 
 First he tore the orders from his breast, then the epau- 
 lettes from his shoulders ; finally cut off every regimental 
 button bearing the imperial arms. 
 
 The grandmother did not understand the subject of 
 their talk, but when she saw her grandson being stripped 
 of every vestige of his military and civil rank, and of all 
 his orders, she found herself endowed with strength, if 
 not to rush to his assistance, still to rise from her chair, 
 and, supporting herself by the table, to cry to the auda- 
 cious intruders : 
 
 " You murderer ! Godless man ! how dare you assail 
 my grandson ? Stop ! Insult him no further. Your ac- 
 cusations are lies ! I will go myself to the Czar ; he 
 will hear me. He has ever been gracious to me. Ihn- 
 asko, give me my mantle ; I will go myself to the Czar ! 
 Leave off your mutilations, you executioner! You shall 
 not put a convict's dress upon my grandson, my Ivan ! 
 A convict's dress ! Before my very eyes ! You varlets ! 
 And cut off his hair! Where is the Czar? I will go to 
 the Czar to Czar Alexander, to implore mercy !" 
 
 Her strength of will worked miracles. Her infirm, 
 paralyzed body seemed to be galvanized into life like 
 a walking ghost. She succeeded in staggering up to 
 where Galban stood, and seized his hands. 
 
 "To Czar Alexander," she breathed, "for pardon!" 
 
 " He has already gone to heaven," said the Chevalier, 
 brutallv. 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 475 
 
 " Then I will go after him," sighed the venerable lady, 
 and fell where she stood. She had said truly. 
 
 She had gone after him thither where even the Czars 
 of All the Russias do not grant, but must entreat, pardon. 
 
 The last locks of hair were severed from the hencl 
 of Ghedimin, no longer a prince. This is the tonsure 
 of those condemned to death. He stood alone. He 
 had no one to mourn his fate. The old servant, con- 
 cealed behind the stove, sobbed uninterruptedly over the 
 shameful operation. 
 
 Ivan was not even permitted to raise his dead grand- 
 mother from the ground. A condemned rebel has hence- 
 forth no family either among the living or the dead. 
 
 They fettered him hand and foot with the heavy iron 
 fetters, of which the Counsellor of Enlightenment was 
 wont to say, " Never you fear, you won't have to pay for 
 them !" And, being an officer of high rank, he had re- 
 ceived as distinction a heavy ball fastened to the end 
 of his chain, which he was compelled to drag along at 
 every step. 
 
 " Now, shoulder arms ! The prisoner in the middle ! 
 Forward march !" 
 
 But in the doorway their advance was hindered by 
 some one with the words : 
 
 " In the name of the Czar !" 
 
 It was Zeneida Ilmarinen. 
 
 Chevalier Galban looked at her in astonishment. 
 
 " Ah, Fraulein, you still at large ?" 
 
 " As you see. I come from the Czar." 
 
 " How could you get to him ?" 
 
 "Did not my countrymen, the Kalevaines, take the 
 son, mother, and wife of the Czar under their protec- 
 tion to-day ?" 
 
476 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " I see ; it was they who gave you admission to the 
 Czar. And then ?" 
 
 " The Czar has pardoned Ivan Maximovitch Ghedi- 
 min. Here is his pardon." 
 
 "Ah! you have saved Ivan Ghedimin from the scaf- 
 fold ?" 
 
 "And also from the mines. The Czar is graciously 
 pleased to exile him to Tobolsk among the sable-hunt- 
 ers, whither he will go at once." 
 
 " On foot, it is to be hoped." 
 
 " Not so in his own sledge, and alone !" 
 
 " And all this has been effected by your dark eyes, 
 fair lady? But allow me, an instant. At the time that 
 the Czar signed this pardon he was not aware that 'the 
 green book ' had been discovered." 
 
 "What 'green book?' " 
 
 " Ah, my charming diva, you are playing the uncon- 
 scious innocent ! But the part does not suit you. This 
 time I fear 1 shall have to, hiss. Do you not know that 
 the key to your secret roulette-bank is in the hands of 
 the police ?" 
 
 " I know; and then?" 
 
 "And this time the police will not be fooled as I 
 once was, when Michael Turgenieff said, 'Je suis un presi- 
 dent sans phrase. Messieurs, faites vos jeux? ' The green 
 book ' has been found !" 
 
 " As far as I know a yellow book has been found." 
 
 " And in it the conspirators had signed their names 
 to the Constitution, and the several schemes of rebell- 
 ion were traced." 
 
 " In it were the names of those gentlemen who re- 
 mained debtors to the banker of the roulette-table and 
 those whose debts iof honor were unredeemed." 
 
 "You act comedy well, exceedingly well, Fraulein; but, 
 
THE NAMELESS WIFE OF A NAMELESS MAN 477 
 
 all the same, you will be hissed off the stage. Written 
 characters must witness against you." 
 
 " They will witness against no one. Knowing that 
 roulette is a forbidden game, being unable to open the 
 safe, I took the precaution to pour aquafortis through 
 the keyhole-, and they into whose hands the* yellow' 
 book has fallen have not found a single name inscribed 
 upon its pages, for they are all effaced. I was pres- 
 ent when it was produced; there was no writing to be 
 seen." 
 
 At these words there was a loud clanking of chains, 
 Ivan striking together those which fettered his hands. 
 
 Chevalier Galban was wild with rage. 
 
 "You are truly an imp of Satan, Zeneida Ilmarinen. 
 By this demoniacal act you have deprived Siberia and 
 the scaffold of ten thousand conspirators !" 
 
 " Let us add their families, and reckon it at a hun- 
 dred thousand." 
 
 " Only a woman could be capable of such an abomi- 
 nation. And you dare to tell it to me ?" 
 
 " What have I to fear from you ? I have in rny pos- 
 session a letter from the Czar, authorizing me to leave 
 this unhappy country and to go wherever I like." 
 
 Chevalier Galban, seeing that she was thus outside 
 the pale of his castigation, wished to return to his tone 
 of studied French courtesy. 
 
 " The world of St. Petersburg, madame, will deeply 
 regret its loss after this ' farewell' performance of yours 
 to-day. And where may you be going, if I may take 
 the liberty of asking, that I may instruct the police to 
 allow you to pass unmolested ?" 
 
 "Where else than where my master leads to To- 
 bolsk ?" 
 
 " What ! You are going with Ghedimin to Siberia ?" 
 
478 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 " Why not ? I am not his wife, to separate from him 
 when misfortune overtakes him. I am only his friend; 
 1 cannot desert him." And, going to the chained pris- 
 oner, she took the heavy ball hanging to his feet in 
 her hands ; it was her bridal dowry. " We can go now, 
 master." 
 
 At this moment Ivan proudly raised his head, a glow 
 upon his face. The attitude of the shaven head was 
 what it should have been before that of a hero the 
 statuesque head of one fighting for his country's free- 
 dom. With his fettered hands he raised Zeneida's to 
 his lips and cried, in the full metallic tones of his manly 
 voice : 
 
 " I thank thee, O my God ! Thou hast made me richer 
 now than ever I was before !" 
 
 Zeneida, nestling up to him, put her arms about him. 
 
 " Now you may hiss to your heart's content, Chev- 
 alier Galban. The play is over !" 
 
 But Galban had no desire to do so. Even his des- 
 picable heart was touched by so much nobility of spirit. 
 The four grenadiers, too, stood with sunken heads, 
 against all military discipline. 
 
 " But, Fraulein," stammered the Chevalier, " only con- 
 sider what is in store for you if you seriously carry out 
 this tremendous determination." 
 
 Zeneida looked at Ivan Maximovitch, her whole soul 
 in that look. 
 
 " I will be a nameless wife to this nameless man. Let 
 us go." 
 
 The heavy chains clanked at each step. In the de- 
 serted room the only sound now heard was the sobbing 
 of the faithful old serving-man ; but on the face of the 
 dead, streiched upon the floor, all lines had been smoothed 
 away. She smiled. 
 
EPISODES 479 
 
 Similar figures, sketched in with equally grand lines, 
 were abundant in that great historic epoch. Thus the 
 young wife of Trubetzkoi, the nominal Dictator, accom- 
 panied him to Siberia; so did the wives of the two 
 Muravieffs and Narishkins. Ryleieff's widow haughtily 
 refused to accept the pension assigned her by the Czar. 
 A young governess, who had had the strength to shut up 
 within her own heart her love for a Russian prince while 
 his rank raised him so high above her, confessed her 
 feelings for him to his parents when he was degraded 
 and sentenced to serfdom in Siberia. She became his 
 wife and went with him into exile. 
 
 But the dark side of the picture stood out also in 
 grewsome detail. The Prince Odojefski, who hid him- 
 self under the bridge, was betrayed by his own relatives; 
 and one might form a long list of those who, on the 
 same melancholy day that their people were setting out 
 for Siberia, crossed hands with Korynthia Ghedimin in 
 a country-dance at the Winter Palace. 
 
 EPISODES 
 
 THE RESCUED POET 
 
 THE revolution was entirely suppressed. The last 
 body of insurgents, under the leadership of Jakuskin, 
 had thrown themselves into a palace and defended it 
 with the heroism of despair until it had been attacked 
 on all sides. This ended the St. Petersburg attempt. 
 
 Equally disastrous was the Southern insurrection. The 
 two brothers Muravieff Apostol,* being taken prison- 
 
 * Apostol was the family name. 
 
480 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 ers, were rescued by some officers belonging to the re- 
 publican " League of United Serfs." Then, placing 
 themselves at the head of the Southern Army, they pro- 
 claimed a republic in Vasilkov, its priest blessing their 
 arms. But the blessing bore no fruit. The soldiers had 
 nothing to urge against a republic; but who would be its 
 Czar? For a republic must necessarily have a Czar! 
 Upon the hills of Ustinoskai they lie buried, where they 
 were shot down in whole companies and trodden under 
 the horses' feet. Upon the grave which covers their 
 remains a gallows has been erected as their memorial. 
 
 The dead of the Northern Union did not even receive 
 a memorial such as that. From the beginning of the 
 fight they were hustled under the ice of the Neva, and 
 the Neva retains its coating of ice for five whole months. 
 Jakuskin was taken prisoner ; but in his prison he dashed 
 his brains out against the stone walls of his cell. 
 
 Pushkin was miraculously saved. The hearts of two 
 women accomplished the miracle two women who 
 united so perfectly in their love for him that to both, 
 equally, he owed his life. 
 
 The digression he had made in going first to Galban's 
 delayed his arrival on time at St. Petersburg on the 
 eventful day. Before he had even reached Czarskoje 
 Zelo his horses had broken down under the strain of the 
 long journey, on the road he met Battenkoff, fleeing from 
 the St. Petersburg slaughter, and learned from him that 
 all was lost, that Prince Ghedimin was exiled to Siberia, 
 whither Zeneida was voluntarily accompanying him. 
 
 Pushkin was free to turn back to his wife. There 
 was no longer an Eleutheria. She was dead and buried. 
 
 There was no one to accuse him of having belonged 
 to the League of the Partisans of Freedom. His name 
 had been inscribed among that ten thousand whom the 
 
EPISODES 481 
 
 " demoniacal " whim of an actress had saved from the 
 scaffold and from banishment to Siberia. 
 
 After that came enough of the hard times beloved by 
 Pushkin's muse. 
 
 And, that he might belong entirely to his muse, Beth- 
 saba, too, forsook him. 
 
 She went to rejoin Sophie. She could no longer en- 
 dure this cold prison-world of ours. And Pushkin then 
 remained alone in his desolate castle, with no other con- 
 fidante than old Helenka. To her he read his verses. 
 
 In the spring of the following year he received a com- 
 mand from Czar Nicholas to present himself at St. Pe- 
 tersburg. 
 
 His imprisoned friends at that time were to be exe- 
 cuted. 
 
 That, too, was a tragic episode ! It would need the 
 pen of a Victor Hugo to describe how, at the very mo- 
 ment of execution, the whole bloody holocaust broke 
 down, and condemned, executioners, and officers of jus- 
 tice were alike buried beneath it. 
 
 It was then that the Czar commanded Pushkin in 
 audience before him. Pushkin was wearing mourning. 
 
 " For whom do you mourn ?" the Czar asked. 
 
 " For my wife, sire." 
 
 " So, not for your dead friends ? Now, confess. On 
 which side would you have stood had you been here in St. 
 Petersburg ?" 
 
 Pushkin felt the cold edge of the executioner's sword 
 at his throat. Dare one answer such a question with a 
 lie? According to the world's ethics, one may one 
 does. The conspirator is not in duty bound to accuse 
 himself, to make confession of what cannot be proved 
 against him, is not required to open out the secrets of 
 his heart And yet Pushkin could not bring a lie to 
 31 
 
482 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 his lips. Reason dictated it, but his proud heart went 
 counter to it. 
 
 " Had I been present" he answered the Czar, " 7 should 
 have taken my place by the side of my friends" 
 
 " I am glad that you have answered me thus," returned 
 the Czar. " I am about to have the period of Peter the 
 Great written, and seek a man for the purpose who can 
 poetize, but who cannot lie. That man I have found ! 
 I commit the writing of that epoch to you. Go back to 
 your home and begin ; and to all that you from hence- 
 forth write I will myself be censor." 
 
 Thus did one of Russia's greatest poets and personal- 
 ities escape the fatal catastrophe. 
 
 At the Bear's Paw they certainly proscribed him as a 
 traitor; for although all other secret societies had paid 
 for their opinions with their blood, that of the Bear's 
 Paw still existed, and did not cease even then to thirst 
 for Freedom. 
 
 GHEDIMIN AND ZENEIDA 
 
 Ghedimin was no longer a prince, but became, in To- 
 bolsk, the happiest of men. 
 
 Five children, all sons, were born to him there, not 
 one of whom has become a prince. One is a tanner, 
 another a furrier j but they are prosperous, and know 
 nothing of the ancestral palace in St. Petersburg. 
 
 This, it is true, is a prosaic ending ; but we may not 
 observe silence upon it, for it is true to history, and, 
 moreover, no exceptional case. How many a descend- 
 ant of princely families tans and works the skins of 
 that ermine once worn by his ancestors ! 
 
 The eldest of the three brothers Turgenieff, Michael, 
 
EPISODES 483 
 
 who presided at that memorable "green-book" confer- 
 ence, was, although absent in a foreign country at the 
 time of the insurrection, condemned to death, and his 
 property confiscated. The news of this sentence broke 
 the heart of his younger brother Sergius. His oilier 
 brother, Alexander, followed the condemned man into 
 exile and shared his own fortune with him. 
 
 Such hearts as these, too, the fatherland of ice can 
 bring forth ! 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF CONSTANTINE 
 
 Krizsanowski was perfectly right when he main- 
 tained that the Poles had no reason to unite their 
 fate with any schemes of Russian aspirants after free- 
 dom. 
 
 The Polish people needed no explanation of the 
 meaning of " Constitution." 
 
 But this, too, is true that to a Pole the wife of Con- 
 stantine was wellnigh the equivalent. She was their 
 Providence turning evil into good, wrath into gentle- 
 ness, remitting punishments a Providence bringing 
 blessings in its train. 
 
 The famous Nie pozwolim ! ("I will not have it!") had 
 certainly never so often swayed the wills of the kings of 
 Poland as had the gentle " I should so like it " the will 
 of the Viceroy. 
 
 And when time and opportunity were ripe, and the 
 necessary strength had been attained, the whole nation 
 rose in its might five months after the flight of the 
 French king, Charles X. 
 
 One night the Polish youths broke open the gates of 
 Belvedere and pressed, armed to a man, to the Grand 
 
484 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 Duke's bedchamber. But first they had to break into 
 Johanna's room. 
 
 She started from sleep as the dagger was already 
 pointed at her heart. 
 
 " Keep silence ! Not a sound !" 
 
 "What!" she cried, "a Pole turning assassin! In- 
 famous !" And, springing from the other side of her 
 bed, she rushed into her husband's room, not even feel- 
 ing the dagger - thrust in her back. Hastily bolting the 
 tapestried door through which she had passed, she flew 
 to the heavily sleeping Viceroy. 
 
 " Wake ! we are surprised !" 
 
 " What ! Assassins ?" exclaimed the Viceroy, seizing 
 his weapons. 
 
 " Not assassins," returned his wife, proudly conceal- 
 ing her indignation, " but heroes of liberty ! The Polish 
 people have risen against you. Fly !" 
 
 " What ! The Polish people risen ? And you, a 
 daughter of Poland, not siding with your own people ? 
 You protecting me ? Is it a miracle ?" 
 
 " Husband, I love you ! I will save you !" 
 
 And with these words, pressing a spring in a corner 
 of the room, she disclosed the secret passage by which 
 the veteran Krizsanowski had come to her, and of which 
 Constantine knew nothing. 
 
 " We must be quick ! These stairs lead down to the 
 garden gate." 
 
 The tapestried door was backed with iron ; the assail- 
 ants could not force it. Johanna threw a cloak about 
 her, not mentioning her wound, and seizing her hus- 
 band's hand led him hurriedly through the familiar pas- 
 sage until they had reached the gate of the subterranean 
 way under the garden. 
 v They were saved. But only for a brief period. From 
 
EPISODES 485 
 
 the adjacent city of Warsaw resounded the clang of 
 alarm-bells: the insurrection had triumphed. 
 
 Outside the walls of Lazienska they met with a mounted 
 lancer. Calling to him, the Viceroy bade him dismount 
 and give him his horse, and, springing on to it, he lifted 
 Johanna behind him and galloped away. 
 
 But the lancer making haste to inform the insurgents 
 of the Viceroy's flight, he was quickly followed. 
 
 A division of lancers reached the fugitives in the for- 
 est of Bjelograd. The double burden was too much for 
 the horse. The leader of the troops was Krizsanowski 
 himself. 
 
 As they came up to her husband Johanna encircled 
 him with her arms. 
 
 "Only through my body do you reach his !" 
 
 Krizsanowski replaced his sword in its scabbard. 
 
 "Good ! So let it be ! There's not a man who could 
 injure your husband ! We will form Constantine's es- 
 cort." 
 
 And the troop of Polish cavalry gave escort to the 
 fugitive Viceroy until he had reached the encampment 
 just assembled for manoeuvres. 
 
 An enemy protecting a fugitive ! 
 
 Magnanimity is sometimes contagious, not always; 
 but occasionally people are carried away by it. 
 
 It was only in camp that Constaniine knew that Jo- 
 hanna, in saving his life, had been wounded. It touched 
 him to the heart. Only such deep emotion as he then 
 experienced makes it intelligible that a Russian Grand 
 Duke, viceroy and field-marshal, could rise to the un- 
 exampled magnanimity of uttering in camp such words 
 as these to the troops ranged before him in battle- 
 array : 
 
 " He who is a Pole, and loves his fatherland more 
 
486 THE GREEN BOOK 
 
 than he does me, may step forth from the ranks and go 
 free." 
 
 And, with arms and banners, he suffered every Polish 
 regiment under his command to march out, and then 
 with his remaining Russian troops withdrew from Po- 
 land, and, at their head, returned to Russian territory. 
 
 Could such immense magnanimity be forgiven ? 
 
 Never ! 
 
 Upon arrival at Minsk the Grand Duke Constantine 
 died suddenly. 
 
 By whose hand ? 
 
 No other than that of the man with tJie green eyes. 
 Only that this time it was not he of the Tsatir Dagh, 
 but he of the banks of the Ganges cholera. 
 
 It was said, too, that he was buried that his coffin 
 had been lowered into the vault in the Church of Peter- 
 Paul at St. Petersburg. But the people would not be- 
 lieve it. 
 
 Tradition has it that lie was taken prisoner and con- 
 veyed to " Holy Island." 
 
 Not many years after there was a peasant rising, and 
 it was rumored that their leader was Constantine. The 
 rising was suppressed, but the leader was not captured ; 
 the people had hidden him too securely. 
 
 And to this day the belief is that Grand Duke Con- 
 stantine is still alive. 
 
 The fishermen of Lapland, when at nights their boats 
 beat about off Solowesk Monastery, often see the figure 
 of a tall, gray-headed man wandering about the bastions. 
 It is attended by two armed sentinels ; and ever and 
 anon the spectre raises its clasped hands to heaven, as 
 if in supplication. 
 
 Then they whisper to one another that the mysterious 
 prisoner of Holy Island is none other than the vanished 
 
EPISODES 487 
 
 Constantine, though forty years have passed since his 
 disappearance. 
 
 Snow lies deep all around so deep that no roads are 
 visible. A gray, leaden firmament spans the horizon. 
 All is intense silence. 
 
 But beneath the deep snow something is still grow- 
 ing, and the roots of which will never die. 
 
 THE END 
 
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME 
 BLACK DIAMONDS. By M aunts Jdkai. $750. 
 DORA PERFECT A. ByB. Pere^Galdds. $i oo. 
 
 TARISIAN POINTS OF VIEW. By Ludovic 
 HalJvy. $i oo. 
 
 DAME CARE. By Hermann Sudermann. $i oo. 
 
 TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES. By Alex- 
 ander Kiel I and. $i oo. 
 
 TEN TALES BY FRANCOIS COPP&E. With 
 50 Illustrations by Albert E. Sterner. $i 25. 
 
 MODERN GHOSTS. Selected from the Works 
 of Guy de Maupassant, Tedro ^Antonio de 
 ^/Jlarco'n, ^Alexander Kielland, and Others. 
 
 $i oo. 
 
 THE HOUSE BY THE MEDLAR-TREE. By 
 Giovanni l^erga. $i oo. 
 
 TASTELS IN TROSE. (FROM THE FRENCH.) 
 With 150 Illustrations by H. W. McVickar. 
 
 ** 25- 
 
 {MARIA: A SOUTH AMERICAN ROMANCE. 
 By Jorge Isaacs. $/ oo. 
 
 THE ODD NUMBER: THIRTEEN TALES. 
 By Guy de Maupassant. $i oo. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
X 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 
 50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing 
 to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in 
 demand may be renewed if application is made before 
 expiration of loan period. 
 
 FEB271918 
 
 NOV25 1918 
 
 JAN 31 WW 
 
 JV1L 291921 
 
 StP 10 ' 
 
 8 1930 
 
 > 2AF55JL 
 
 APR 
 
 26Apr'56VLg 
 MAY4 - 
 
 28V57DW 
 REC'D LD 
 
 i 2 1 li 
 
 REC'D 
 
 MAY 1.3 1971 6 
 
 D TO 
 
 JUN 2 1971 
 
 50m-7,'16 
 
YB 40484 
 
 248954