CHAPTER XXVIII.MADAME VON GADEN.
Fordays it was impossible for Zénaïde to leave the house with safety. The Kremlin was virtually in the possession of the Streltsi, and every gate strongly guarded. The scenes of blood did not end with the first day. The czarina’s brother, Peter Naryshkin, had been found in a house across the Moskva and brutally murdered, and they were clamoring for the life of Ivan Naryshkin and Dr. von Gaden. The Departments of Justice and Serfage had been attacked by the mob and rifled of their contents, the papers strewn to the winds, for it pleased the caprice of the soldiers to declare the people free. But after the first day, the leaders had checked the impetuosity of their men, and but few private houses were molested, and general pillage was not allowed. It was distinctly a mob of soldiers, and there was a certain discipline even in their riot. But as yet they did not permit the burial of the horriblymutilated bodies which had been lying in the Red Place since the morning of May 25th, and the czarina had to submit to the humiliation of allowing her guardian’s dismembered remains to lie exposed in the public square.
Ramodanofsky went out freely in his character of Peter Lykof. He possessed considerable influence with the Streltsi, and had succeeded in completely concealing his relations with the hated nobility. It occurred to me that if the truth should be discovered at an unfavorable moment, he might be treated by the soldiers as a traitor, and even a spy. The event justified my fears. I had been to the Kremlin and seen Mademoiselle Eudoxie, assuring her of Zénaïde’s safety; Mademoiselle and Madame von Gaden were concealed in the private apartments of the young Czarina Martha, the widow of Feodor, Sophia having rescued Von Gaden’s wife from the mob, and hidden her in her sister-in-law’s room. Meanwhile, a curious change had taken place in affairs of state. The young Czar Peter had been virtually deposed, and the czarina dowager, broken down with grief and trouble, made but a feeble resistance. I was shocked to see the change in her; she seemed utterly unnerved and unable to cope with the situation, whilethe Czarevna Sophia was making all the appointments, filling the vacancies caused by death, and selecting her own councillors. All the woman’s shrewdness and ability showed in the crisis. While she pretended to lament the atrocities of the riot, she was quick to profit by the opportunities they made for her success. She had acquired a thorough knowledge of public affairs during the illness of her brother, the Czar Feodor, when she had, in many instances, acted for him, and she showed her ability now in the selection of her advisers, Prince Basil Galitsyn, of course, standing foremost in her regard. It was patent to all that she was aiming at the regency, and we suspected at the crown, although she screened her motives behind her apparent affection for her blind brother, the Czarevitch Ivan. Peter’s election being discredited, it was impossible for affairs to remain on their present footing. The two young princes would have to reign jointly, and that meant the regency of Sophia Alexeievna. It was an evil hour for the Naryshkins, and the prospects of the young Peter never looked more gloomy. Glancing back upon those days of blood, it seems impossible that no one should have foreseen the advent of the great czar; that every eye was absorbed by the subtlety of theclever czarevna, never dreaming of the day of reckoning, when Peter should reclaim his own.
It was on the evening of the third day, when I had returned from the Kremlin, that Pierrot, who had been on duty constantly to guard Zénaïde, answered a gentle summons at the side door. I was in the lower hall at the time, and saw him admit two closely veiled women, followed by a young fellow, whom I recognized as one of the attendants of the imperial household. The foremost female figure was undoubtedly Mademoiselle Eudoxie.
“This was a risk, mademoiselle,” I said smiling, as I held out my hand, at the same time looking beyond her at the veiled figure, which I did not know.
“I could not stay there any longer,” mademoiselle exclaimed with a shudder. “It is too horrible. I seem to hear the shrieks of those poor murdered creatures all the time. Besides, I wanted to be with Zénaïde; I am not happy when I do not know that she is safe; and madame wanted to see you.”
This surprised me, and I glanced inquiringly at the muffled form. Seeing my look, the stranger raised her veil, and I saw the face of Madame von Gaden, changed as I have scarcely ever seen a woman’s face change in a few days.She looked old with her pallor and the dark rings under her eyes. I divined her errand in a moment, and sending mademoiselle to Zénaïde, turned to the poor woman with as gentle a manner as I could command.
“Have you seen him?” she asked in a broken voice; “have you heard anything?”
Very tenderly I told her of my parting with her husband after our escape from his house.
“And you have never seen him since?” she exclaimed, pressing her hand to her heart. “Where can he be?”
“Far away, I trust, madame,” I replied gravely. “Let us not wish to see him until this frenzy is over. It is almost spent; it cannot last a great while now.”
She shook her head. “Alas!” she said, “they will not be satisfied until they have his blood. I thought that they would have mine when they dragged me through the streets to the Kremlin. Nothing saved me but Sophia and the young Czarina Martha; she concealed me in her own room until now, when I could endure it no longer. Poor Jan Gutmensch was killed, in spite of the intercession of the princesses, you know, M. le Vicomte?”
“Let us hope that your good husband has escaped from Moscow,” I said, reassuringly.
“I pray so,” the poor woman replied brokenly. “But I hear their howls for his blood all the time. They were like the cries of wolves, M. de Brousson; they have less pity than the beasts.”
“Yet, be of good cheer, madame,” I said soothingly. “Your husband has evaded them so long, let us hope that he may still succeed. The hottest pursuit grows tardy after a while, and their patience will be soon exhausted.”
She was eager enough to snatch at a straw of comfort, and quieted down under my soothing remonstrance. Presently she went up with me, and I sent mademoiselle and Zénaïde to comfort her. In a great degree I shared her anxiety, for the mob had made a point from the first to demand the death of Von Gaden. It seemed improbable that the Jew could successfully elude them, when not even the Czarina Natalia could protect her own brothers.
I went down again to find Pierrot, hoping to hear some reassuring tidings; but before I called him, I heard a light step on the stair, and Zénaïde was looking down upon me, her lovely face full of anxiety.
“What is it?” I exclaimed softly, reaching up until I touched her hand upon the balustrade.
“Has my father come yet, Philippe?” she asked. “I feel sure that he will have tidings for this poor woman. I cannot bear to see her so broken down.”
“Alas, Zénaïde!” I replied gravely, “any news may be evil for her. They have never ceased to search for poor Von Gaden, and I have really little hope of his escape. It seems a miracle that he has avoided them so long.”
“The wretches!” she exclaimed, the color mounting in her cheeks. “If I were czarina of all the Russias—” she paused, seeing a smile in my eyes.
“My love,” I said smiling, “what would become of me? I felt abashed when I told the Boyar Ramodanofsky that I loved his daughter, and he has not replied to me yet. How could I sue for the white hand of an empress?”
She looked at me with her head a little on one side.
“If I were an empress, M. le Vicomte”—she began, but the opening of the outer door arrested the laughing words upon her lips, and we both turned startled glances at the stern countenance of the boyar. His keen eyes searched us for a moment, but he closed the door and advanced with a sober face.
“You have evil tidings, father,” Zénaïdeexclaimed, her quick eye reading his clouded brow.
“Not for you, my child,” he replied quietly; “but a sad thing has happened. We have lost a friend,” he added, turning to me.
“Von Gaden?” I exclaimed at once.
The boyar bowed his head in assent.
“Alas!” exclaimed Zénaïde, “is he slain?”
“He and Ivan Naryshkin were taken to-day,” Ramodanofsky replied. “The Streltsi came to the palace and demanded Ivan Naryshkin; the czarina resisted, until Sophia told her that his life must be sacrificed to save the others. He received the eucharist in the Church of the Savior beyond the Wicket, and Sophia gave him an image of the Virgin to hold. Poor Natalia Kirilovna went with him to the Golden Wicket, and there the Streltsi seized him and insulted him before her eyes. Meanwhile, Von Gaden had been arrested in disguise, begging for food; he has been three days in the woods without it. He and Naryshkin were both taken to the Constantine torture-room and subjected to excruciating agony. Ivan uttered not a word, but Von Gaden had already endured too much, and he made some sort of confession, the wild talk of a man in death agony. It availed nothing. They were dragged to the Red Place andlifted on the points of the rioters’ spears. Then their hands and feet were cut off, their bodies chopped in pieces and trampled in the dirt. Thus perished a benevolent physician.”
“His poor wife!” cried Zénaïde; “who can tell her? She is here, father,” she added; “she came to hear some tidings of him.”
“You will have to tell her, Zénaïde,” her father said, gravely.
At that moment we heard a step upon the stair, and looking up, saw madame standing just above us. Her robe was black, and the mantle about her head, and out of its shrouding folds showed a face like that of a corpse.
“She need not tell me,” she said in a strange wild voice; “I heard it all. Let me die too! Let me go out and tear these ruffians with my hands and die battling with them! May they be torn limb from limb, and their wives and children left desolate, as I am desolate!”
She threw her hands over her head with a frantic gesture as she invoked the wrath of Heaven. Then she came down, her eyes staring out of her white face, yet seeming not to see us, or anything but the door. We thought her mad, and no doubt for the moment she was. Ramodanofsky, springing forward, caught her and held her back. She shrieked aloud andstruck at him with her fists, but he held her in a grip of iron. Mademoiselle Eudoxie came running at the sound of the screams, and Pierrot and the man who had attended her from the Kremlin. But in a moment it was over, and she fell across the boyar’s arm in a deathlike swoon, the foam upon her lips. Very gently he lifted her and carried her up the stairs, followed by Zénaïde and mademoiselle, who were eager to minister to the poor, afflicted creature, so horribly bereaved.