CHAPTER CXXXVI.
THE EMPRESS CATHARINE.
The magnificent state-apartments of the empress were silent and empty, for she had given out that she needed solitude to work, she would hold no levee to-day. But she was not alone; she was in a cabinet which led to her bedchamber; and with her was Count Orloff, her former lover and the murderer of her husband.
The empress lay half buried in the depths of a crimson velvet couch; and her large blue eyes were fixed with an expression of tenderness upon Orloff, who sat opposite to her. In spite of her fifty years, Catharine was a very handsome woman. Age had respected her fair, imperial brow, and the fingers of time had relented as they passed over it. Her eyes were as bright and beautiful as ever; her lips as red, and their smile as fascinating, as in the days of her youth; and in her bosom beat the passionate, craving, restless heart of a maiden of seventeen. This heart was as capable of love as of hate, and her graceful person as fitted to inspire love as it had ever been. Just now Catharine was anxious to please. She thought over the golden hours of her youthful passion, and tried to win a smile from Orloff's stern face. She forgot in him the man who had placed a bloody crown upon her head, she saw but the paramour who had wreathed her brow with the myrtles and roses of requited love.
They had spoken of indifferent things, but Catharine had grown silent, and the silence was becoming embarrassing to Orloff.
"Your majesty commanded my presence," began he.
Catharine raised her beautiful white arm from the cushion where it lay, and motioned him to approach.
"Hush, Orloff," said she, in a low voice. "No one hears us, do not call me majesty."
"My revered sovereign," stammered Orloff, "I—"
"Sovereign! Do I look as if I were your sovereign, Orloff? No, no, I am here as the woman who is not ashamed of the love we once cherished for each other. The world says that I am not pious, and verily I believe that Voltaire has corrupted me; but I have one steadfast faith, and I cling to it as fanatics do to Christianity. My religion is the religion of memory, Gregory; and you were its first hierophant."
Orloff muttered some unintelligible words; for truth to tell, he did not quite comprehend the vagaries of his imperial mistress. He was a man of deeds, fit for action and strife; but there was neither imagination nor poetry in his nature. He saw, however, that Catharine smiled and beckoned. He hastened forward, and bending the knee, kissed her hand.
"Gregory," said she, tenderly, "I sent for you to talk of the prospects of your son."
"Your majesty speaks of Basil Bobinsky?" asked Orloff, with a smile.
"Yes," replied Catharine, "of your son, or rather, if you prefer it, of our son."
"Your majesty acknowledges him, and yet you have thrust his father from your heart. You sacrificed me to a man whom I hate—not because he is my successful rival, but because he does not deserve the love of my empress; because he is a heartless spendthrift, and a wretch who is ready to sell his sovereign's honor at any moment, provided the price offered him be worth the treachery. Oh! it maddens me when I think that Gregory Orloff was displaced for a Potemkin!"
Catharine laid her jewelled hand upon Orloff's lips. "Hush, Orloff, do not vituperate. I have called for you to-day to give me peace. I do not wish the two men who share my heart to stand forever glaring at each other in implacable hatred. I wish to unite you through the sweet influences of a young couple's love. I beseech you, Gregory, do not refuse me the boon I crave. Give your consent for Basil to marry the Countess Alexandra, Potemkin's niece."
"Never!" thundered Orloff, starting to his feet, and retreating like an animal at bay. "Never will I consent for my bastard to marry the wench of such a contemptible fool as Potemkin!" [Footnote: Orloff's own words. Raumer's Contributions, etc., vol. v., p. 412.]
Catharine rose from her couch with a look of tender reproach. "You will not grant my heart's dearest wish?" said she.
"I cannot do it, Catharine." cried Orloff, wildly. "My blood boils at the very thought of being connected to Potemkin. No, indeed! No tie shall ever bind me to him, that hinders my hand, should you one day ask of me, to sever his head from his body."
Catharine again put her hand before Orloff's mouth. "Hush, you fulminating Jove!" said she. "Must you be forever forging thunderbolts, or waging war with Titans? But you know too well that in your godlike moods you are irresistible. What a triumph it is to win a boon from such a man! Invest me with this glory Orloff; and I give up my plan for a marriage between Basil and Potemkin's niece."
"Niece," echoed Orloff, "say his mistress!"
"Not so," exclaimed Catharine. "So treacherous, I will not believe
Potemkin to be!"
"Nevertheless, Alexandra is his mistress, and the whole court knows it."
"If I find it so, Potemkin shall feel the weight of my vengeance, and nothing shall save him!" cried Catharine, her eyes darting fire. "But I tell you it is not so. He has his faults, but this is not one of them."
"Then you confess that the great Potemkin has faults, do you!"
"It was precisely because of his faults that I sent for you!"
"Me!"
"You—Gregory Orloff, the truest of the true! You have done me good service in your life; to you I am indebted for my crown, and you are its brightest jewel. But I have a favor now to ask of you which concerns my happiness more than any thing you have ever done for me before, my Gregory."
"Speak, my empress, speak, and I will die to serve you;" replied Orloff, inspired by Catharine's earnestness.
She laid her white hand upon his shoulder, and said in her most enticing tones: "Be the friend of Potemkin. Let him learn by your example to be more careful of the great trusts which he holds from me; more conciliating, and more grateful. For, indeed, in return for all the favors I bestow upon him, he makes my life one long martyrdom. For God's sake, Orloff, be friendly with Potemkin, and try to rescue me from the tempests which daily and hourly burst over my devoted head." [Footnote: Catharine's own words.] She leaned her head upon his bosom, and looked imploringly into his face.
"Your majesty," said Orloff, warmly, "you know that I am your slave. If Potemkin is obnoxious to you, speak the word, and I annihilate him. But my reputation will not permit me to consort with a man whom I despise, and whom I should be forced, nevertheless, to regard as the first subject of the empire. Pardon me if I cannot grant your majesty's petition."
"Go, then, cruel man, and leave me to my fate," said Catharine in tears.
"Since your majesty desires it, I retire." And Orloff bowing, turned to leave the room, but Catharine threw herself upon the sofa with a sob and he returned.
"Do you weep for Potemkin?" said he. "Spare your tears. He loves no one but himself, and his only aim in life is to enervate and weaken YOUR mind, that he may reign in your stead."
"Oh, Orloff, be merciful!" said Catharine, clasping her hands.
But Orloff continued: "Potemkin has essentially damaged your fleet; he has ruined your army; and what is worse, he has lowered you in the estimation of your subjects, and of the world. If you are willing to be rid of so dangerous a man, my life is at your disposal: but if you must temporize with him, I do nothing to further measures which are to be carried out by flattery and hypocrisy."
"I believe you, unhappily I believe you," said Catharine, weeping. "Potemkin deserves all that you say of him, but I have not the heart to punish him as he deserves. I cannot bid you destroy the giant whose shadow darkens my throne. You see, Orloff, that I am a poor, weak woman, and have not the strength to punish the guilty."
"I see that your majesty prizes the oppressor of my country far more than that country's self; and since it is so, I have nothing more to do here. Farewell, Catharine—I must return to Gatzchina."
He kissed the hand of the empress, and passed into the adjoining apartment. He went slowly through the magnificent state-rooms, through which he had to pass to the corridor, and with weeping eyes Catharine followed his tall form from door to door. She would have leaned for support upon that strong man, but he refused to shelter her, and she felt a sense of desolation which seemed to her a presentiment of evil.
"Orloff, Orloff!" cried she, imploringly; and she hastened after him. He was passing out into the corridor, when he heard her voice, and saw her coming fleet as a dove toward him.
"Orloff," said she, panting for breath, "do not leave St. Petersburg to-day. Remain for three days, and, perhaps, in that time I may gather courage to accept your help, and rid myself of this man."
"I will await your majesty's decision," replied Orloff; "and if then my sword is not required in your service, I shall leave St. Petersburg forever."
He bowed, and the heavy portiere fell behind him as he passed from the czarina's sight. Slowly she returned to her cabinet, murmuring, "Three days he will wait to know if—"
But suddenly she started, appalled at the sight of an apparition that occupied the divan on which she was about to repose her weary limbs. She uttered a wild scream of terror, for on this divan sat—Potemkin.