CHAPTER V.THE TOWER OF IVAN VELIKI.
Afterseeing mademoiselle safe in her carriage, I turned to look for the tall stranger who had startled her, but he had vanished. I gazed about me in some astonishment, for the square was open, and a moment before he had been at our heels.
“Morbleu!” I exclaimed sharply, “where is the fellow?”
“He went back into the cathedral, your Excellency,” Pierrot replied quietly; “he walks fast and takes but a moment to disappear.”
“You have noticed him before?” I asked, my mind full of conjectures.
“Three times, monsieur,” Pierrot said,—“once at the palace, once behind M. de Lambert in the Zemlianui-gorod, and once at the house of Prince Dolgoruky.”
I started, a solution of the mystery occurring to me.
“Is he an attendant of Prince Dolgoruky?” I asked.
“I believe he is the prince’s equerry, monsieur,” Pierrot replied, looking at me with an expression of intelligence.
Here was an easy explanation. Dolgoruky was conspicuous among Mentchikof’s opponents; he was one of the older noblemen, and was no doubt jealous of the increasing influence of the favorite, probably feeling that he had a better claim to the czar’s confidence and affection. Moreover, there was another motive for the opposition; there was much sympathy felt for the exiled czarina and her son, the czarevitch, which would imbitter the faction against Catherine Shavronsky. She was the candidate of Mentchikof, and he was secretly accused of having intrigued to depose Eudoxia; the czarina herself had openly reproached him with exercising a bad influence over the czar, and it was thought that he was unfriendly to the Czarevitch Alexis. There could be no doubt that a man like Alexander Mentchikof would bitterly resent Eudoxia’s reproaches, and it was natural that he should have no friendship for her son. The opposing faction, therefore, saw a double danger in his intrigues; if he could establish Catherine upon the throne, her children might succeed instead of Alexis; and all the old party, hating Peter’s reforms, were rallying around the son of Eudoxia, who was herself a type of the uneducated, bigoted women of the old Moscovite Court. Better that the czar should wed one of their own partisans than be swayed by a mistress of Mentchikof’s selection! Zotof was one of themselves, and I had no doubt that the faction wasbehind him in his desire to marry his niece to Peter, in which case mademoiselle would be the object of constant intrigue. They probably supposed that they could control the “Prince Pope” and insure the succession of Alexis, in precedence of any children that might be born of a union between the czar and Najine. And her selection would be less of an insult to Eudoxia than the elevation of Mentchikof’s creature. All these things increased the difficulties of the situation, and I was convinced that Prince Dolgoruky, fearing the miscarriage of his schemes, had set a watch upon mademoiselle and her French lover, and the suspicion of the French that was prevalent at Moscow increased the peril for M. de Lambert. A glance at Pierrot’s face satisfied me that he, too, comprehended the situation; he was a shrewd fox, and grasped it as quickly as I did.
“Warn Touchet,” I said to him significantly; “he does not understand the language, but he has a quick eye and a good sword arm.”
“I understand, M. le Vicomte,” Pierrot replied stolidly, and we walked on across the square.
I was not startled, indeed not even surprised, when a few moments later I encountered Prince Dolgoruky himself. He came out of the refectory of the Miracle Monastery, accompanied only by one of the court dwarfs, and, seeing me, stopped to await my approach. Personally, I liked the prince, although he was a somewhat pompous man, andprobably opposed to every scheme I had on foot. Greeting me pleasantly, he walked with me towards the Gate of the Redeemer. Whatever his thoughts were, he turned the conversation at once on politics. Not all the Russians felt confidence in the Saxon alliance; they knew that the War of the Spanish Succession would involve the interests of King Augustus, who was the creature of Austria and they already saw Russia deserted by her allies, and attacked by Sweden on the north and Turkey on the south. Denmark had been disposed of, and the wiser statesmen never trusted Augustus the Dissembler, and their doubts were amply justified by the trick he played Russia at the Peace of Altranstädt. Dolgoruky in his talk with me showed his contempt for the Polish-Saxon intrigue.
“What we want,” he said frankly, “is an advantageous peace with Sweden. We must have the Neva and St. Petersburg, but for my own part I am weary of his Majesty of Poland. In the end he will make a peace with Charles XII. that will suit him and will not suit the czar. He would rather lose two Polands than two feet of his native Saxony.”
The event proved the truth of the prince’s assertion, but I was not prepared to commit myself on the subject.
“Poland seems to me the most unfortunate,” I said, smiling, “since she must support the warand see her territory parcelled out by the conquerors.”
“Poland should be ours,” Dolgoruky replied decisively; “it is too much a part of Russia to be torn to pieces by Augustus and that madman of Sweden.”
“Charles XII.,” I said quietly; “a brilliant young hero.”
“A lunatic!” exclaimed the Russian, contemptuously. “Do you remember the ‘Gottorp Fury,’ when he and his cousin Frederick, the Duke of Holstein-Gottorp, rode through Stockholm in their shirts, and spent a day striking off the heads of sheep in the palace, until the floors and staircases ran with blood, while they threw the bleeding heads out of the windows? Such men are fools.”
“The Duke of Holstein-Gottorp is thecasus bellibetween Sweden and Denmark,” I remarked dryly.
Dolgoruky shrugged his shoulders. “Compare these men with his imperial Majesty,” he said, “and you will find them but indifferent pictures of royalty. Charles is at best but a mad king and a mad soldier, while the czar has all the attributes of greatness, and only the one weakness of trusting too implicitly in the judgment of those who have won his regard.”
I knew that he referred to Mentchikof, and was amused.
“A weakness that is not unusual,” I remarked;“a sovereign is often betrayed through his confidence!”
“Too often,” Dolgoruky said with feeling, “and once a favorite is established, he will stop at nothing to gain complete control of his master’s affairs; when a woman is added to the complication, it passes an honest man’s patience.”
“Monsieur,” I said, smiling, “the Court of France has been swayed by many fair women since Gabrielle d’Estrées quarrelled with Sully, and before her day too. A courtier must learn to win the good graces of the queen of the hour; it is only a plain soldier, like myself, who can afford to carve his fortune with his sword.”
“I would rather carve mine with my sword,” he exclaimed, “than sue for favor from—” He checked himself in time, catching the amusement in my eye.
We had left the Kremlin and were walking through the Kitai-gorod; a few rods more would bring us to the spot where our paths would naturally separate.
“Be warned, prince,” I said kindly. “I have seen many changes, many shifts of fortune. Let the court intrigues have a smooth road; seek only the service of the state.”
He looked at me keenly, and smiled.
“Is that advice entirely disinterested, monsieur?” he asked.
We had both stopped, for here our ways parted.
“You must take the advice for what it is worth,” I replied calmly.
As I spoke, I glanced back and discovered the tall man, who had shadowed mademoiselle, coming along a little behind Pierrot. I glanced at the prince, and saw that he had followed my eyes.
“Your equerry is over-zealous,” I said, a trifle sharply.
He started. “My equerry?” he repeated with affected surprise.
“Yes, monsieur,” I replied coldly, “your equerry. This is not the first time that I have found him in my wake. I trust your Excellency will advise him to give my attendants more elbow-room; they are both Frenchmen, and they cannot become accustomed to Moscovite manners.”
Dolgoruky was annoyed. He was not skilful in the art of dissimulation, and stood frowning, uncertain whether to resent my manner or not.
“It is Tikhon,” he said after a moment. “I will speak to him; he is a stupid fellow, and has probably erred through ignorance.”
“His face belies him then,” I said dryly; “I never saw a face more shrewd. I bid your Excellency adieu.”
With this we parted, and he summoned Tikhon, and I heard hot words as I passed on. Dolgoruky was manifestly angered and surprised that I had fathomed his scheme of espionage, and I was wellsatisfied that I had been able to warn him that he had shown his hand.
Half an hour later, I went to my lodgings to find M. de Lambert but just returned from a fruitless visit to Zotof’s house. He was sitting moodily at the table writing a letter, and scarcely noticed me as I removed my cloak and sword. I was amused at his indifference, knowing that my tidings would speedily dispel his apathy.
“You should have visited the Kremlin to-day, M. Guillaume,” I said quietly.
He looked up at me carelessly, and with some little surprise at my apparently meaningless remark.
“It will be well for you to pass the Cathedral of the Assumption to-morrow afternoon,” I added, smiling.
In a moment he had caught my meaning, and his face kindled.
“You have seen her?” he exclaimed, springing up with his usual impetuosity.
“Seen her?” I repeated tormentingly; “that is certainly indefinite, monsieur. How many women are there in Moscow?”
“Ma foi!” he exclaimed impatiently, “you try me, M. le Maréchal; you understand me well enough, but you love your own amusement.”
“Come now, M. de Lambert,” I said lightly, “let me have my jest. Have I not sat opposite a disconsolate lover long enough to dull my spirit?But I will not try you longer; I did see Mademoiselle Zotof to-day and spoke with her, so I am a fortunate man.”
His face flushed, and his honest brown eyes lighted up so pleasantly that I forgave him many short-comings.
“Was madame with her?” he asked quickly.
“She was attended only by her woman,” I replied, “and had been to the cathedral. I spoke to her, and I think that she was glad to see me. I did not forget you, monsieur. I pleaded your cause—in short, she will go to the cathedral to-morrow at the same hour.”
He caught my hand and shook it warmly. There was no need for words, for I understood him, and knew too that I had gained a hold upon his heart. After a little I told him of Prince Dolgoruky and of Tikhon.
“Be warned, M. de Lambert,” I said; “there is danger ahead. You are unfortunate enough to be the object of one party’s hopes and the other’s anxiety,—in either case a dangerous position; even more so than mademoiselle’s, whose place in the czar’s favor intimidates while it excites the schemers. You, on the other hand, have no shelter but the majesty of the King of France, not so potent here in Moscow; your own wit and your own sword must be your chief reliance.”
“The danger to myself concerns me not at all,” he replied, “but for mademoiselle I am deeply disturbed.Mentchikof will leave no stone unturned to advance this Livonian woman; and while his success would insure my chances of happiness, his defeat would increase mademoiselle’s peril. Prince Dolgoruky’s conduct shows how deep the intrigue runs, and it seems to me only to add another complication.”
“The prince represents the other faction at court,” I assented, “and I do not doubt their determination to defeat Mentchikof. But you may take this comfort, monsieur: the favorite is a power with the czar, and Mademoiselle Shavronsky has beauty, wit, and ambition; therefore there is hope that the autocrat may prefer the coarser charms of Catherine to mademoiselle’s delicate beauty.”
He listened to me courteously, but I saw that he had a lover’s conviction that no woman could bear comparison with mademoiselle. He was too elated by the prospect of seeing his divinity to bear serious remonstrance, but I prevailed upon him not to go alone to meet her. I had seen enough to fear foul play, and determined to constitute myself his guardian. I felt responsible for the young hot-head, and then too he had won my regard. He was so brave a soldier, so true a gentleman, so good a lover that he rejoiced my heart. The foibles of the court had failed to spoil him, and I could forgive the fastidious elegance of the courtier when I saw it side by side with conspicuous courage.
The appointed hour on the following day found us in the Kremlin; M. de Lambert was all impatience, and I confess that my own interest was keen. Touchet attended us; for many reasons, I preferred a man who understood but little Russ and would comprehend less of the situation than did Pierrot. We took up our position near the Tower of Ivan Veliki, and M. de Lambert had time to become thoroughly impatient before mademoiselle arrived. Whether her heart failed her at the last moment or madame detained her I know not, but we had waited a full half-hour before M. de Lambert uttered an exclamation and hurried forward to meet two closely veiled women who were coming towards us. Mademoiselle saw me, so I advanced also to greet her. She lifted her veil and showed a charming face, suffused with a rosy hue that increased the luster of her eyes. She evidently felt that she had taken a decided step, and was doubtful of the propriety of her course, M. de Lambert’s ardent greeting increasing her natural confusion. A flushed and handsome young pair they looked, as they stood there before me, shamefaced but manifestly happy at meeting each other.
“Mademoiselle,” I said gently, “I thank you for remembering my petition; the day is brighter for seeing you.”
She smiled as she replied softly to my greeting, and then I discreetly withdrew to a little distance,that they might have an opportunity to converse. Her woman was waiting with Touchet, but as she spoke no French and he only a few words of Russ, they made an amusing by-play by their gestures and grimaces, which indeed conveyed nothing of their meaning to each other. I watched them with enjoyment, for it was evident that Touchet found it an effort to entertain her, and she regarded him with distrust as an alien. Meanwhile mademoiselle and her lover walked to and fro in the shadow of the great Tower of Ivan Veliki, conversing in low tones; now and then I caught the czar’s name and madame’s, and could see that M. de Lambert grew more eloquent each moment, while mademoiselle was apparently uncertain; yet her face was brighter than on the previous day. They had been talking a quarter of an hour, and seemed to forget me, although I could overhear a sentence or two as they passed and repassed me in their promenade.
“He is the czar and I but a poor French gentleman,” he said; “he can offer you a crown and I—nothing but my sword and my heart.”
I saw mademoiselle’s face, and she gave her lover a charming glance.
“Is your heart so poor a thing, monsieur?” she asked; “it seems to me that a true heart weighed in the scale with a diadem would exceed the jewelled bauble.”
“You will be true to me, Najine!” he cried passionately.
“M. de Lambert,” I heard her reply, as they turned back upon their walk, “I come of a loyal race, and the empty honor of a crown could not shake my faith. Is there a better gift than an honest heart? A throne and a heart are offered me—Guillaume, I prefer the heart!”
I smiled; were there ever two more simple children? Yet I loved them both for their simplicity. A few moments later, mademoiselle had bidden him adieu and came towards me with her veil down, so that I could but dimly see her blushing cheeks as she parted from me. She had forbidden our attendance, and with her woman walked rapidly away; as they did so, I saw Tikhon come out of the cathedral and follow in their wake, and knew that we had been watched. M. de Lambert saw it as quickly as I did, and, before I could stop him, dashed off in pursuit. Knowing his hot blood, I followed at once with Touchet, anticipating mischief. Mademoiselle and her companion, walking fast, gained upon their follower, and, turning the corner of the cathedral, disappeared just as M. de Lambert overtook the Russian, and I could see that they disputed together. Before I reached them, Guillaume struck the spy a blow with the flat of his sword that stretched him on the ground; I know notwhat would have ensued if I had not come up in time to catch his arm.
“You madman!” I exclaimed, “that is Prince Dolgoruky’s equerry. What folly is this?”
But M. de Lambert’s blood was up. “The villain!” he cried fiercely; “has he no other employment than to follow mademoiselle about the city? I will teach him better manners.”
But Tikhon had scrambled to his feet while I held his assailant; and although the fellow’s face was white with fury, he had felt the strength of the Frenchman’s arm, and had no taste for more. Perhaps, too, he saw the malicious delight on Touchet’s countenance, for my man stood regarding the performance with unmitigated approval.
“Be off!” I exclaimed harshly; “and let this be a lesson to you to quit the office of a common spy upon French gentlemen.”
He lowered at us with open resentment, but nevertheless retreated slowly, as if half ashamed to yield to my command. It was plain that only the number of his enemies discomfited him. When he was out of sight, I read my fiery lover a lesson, although I knew it was to little purpose, for he was at the white heat of anger; nor did I greatly blame him for his righteous indignation; nevertheless, it was my duty to warn him.
“You forget mademoiselle,” I said significantly; “it does her no good to have this knave’s ill-will. It is easy to see that she is watched atevery step—watched by a party at court. Prince Dolgoruky would not stoop to set a spy upon her unless grave interests were involved.”
But I might as well have talked to the wind. He would brook no interference in any matter touching mademoiselle, and I saw that he took my cautions with a poor grace, almost resenting my timely interference.