The Siberian Sable-Hunter.
CHAPTER XV.
In a state of extreme agitation, Alexis hurried Linsk into his room, locked the door, then turning round upon him, said to him, almost with fierceness, “Tell me, Linsk—tell me—are they well?”
“Who do you mean?” said the old fur-hunter—scarcely knowing whether Alexis was not out of his head.
“Tell me, instantly,” said Alexis, “is he alive?”
“Is who alive?” said Linsk.
“My father—my father,” said Alexis, bursting into tears, from apprehensions suggested by the hesitation of Linsk.
“I hope he is,” said Linsk, a good deal affected; “I hope he is alive, and well.”
“And Kathinka—is she well?”
“I hope so,” said Linsk.
“My dear friend—do not torment me thus; see, I am calm! Tell me the whole truth—I will hear it all—I believe I can bear it. If they are dead, let me know it—anything is better than suspense.”
“Well, now that’s right, be calm and I will tell it all—but you must give me time. In telling a long story, I must manage it just as a crane does an eel—I must swallow the head first, and then go to the tail. If it gets cross-ways, it won’t go down at all, you know.”
“Go on—go on!”
“Well—now you must know that four months ago I left Tobolsk to come here and sell my furs. As I was coming away, your sister Kathinka——.”
“O, tell me, Linsk—tell me, for heaven’s sake, is my sister well?”
“Patience, boy—patience. I hope she is well—let me go on. Your sister Kathinka, as I was coming away, gave me the roll of furs you had sent her, and requested me to seek out the princess Lodoiska, and see that they were safely placed in her hands.
“All this I promised faithfully to do, and departed. When I reached this city, I sought out the princess, and gave her the parcel. There was something in it from count Zinski, whom we saw in the cave of Siberia, and the princess almost went mad about it; she told me to go right back to Siberia, and find the hermit and bring him here, and she would give me a thousand dollars! I should have taken her offer, but that I saw the count in Okotsk, in the disguise of a fur merchant, and doubted if I should be able to find him.”
“But my father—my sister?”
“All in due time, master Alexis. When I left Tobolsk, your father was very poorly, and Kathinka used to shed a great many tears about it. At last, Col. Krusenstern, who had seemed to be very kind, told your father that he had got the consent of the Emperor that he and Kathinka should leave Siberia, and return to Poland. This put new life into the old gentleman, and he set off with Kathinka for St. Petersburgh. They had money enough, for the colonel provided everything.
“Well, when they got to St. Petersburgh, Krusenstern was there. He immediately caused information to be lodged at one of the police offices, that your father had fled from Tobolsk and was in the city.”
“The villain—the villain!” said Alexis, springing to his feet, and unable to contain himself longer.
“Be quiet be quiet,” said Linsk; “you must command yourself. Your father was arrested and hurried to prison, with poor Kathinka. There was no one to appear in their behalf, for Krusenstern kept the matter very quiet. At last I heard what was going on. With the greatest difficulty I gained admittance to the prison. I have heard about angels, master Alexis, but I never saw one till then. Your sister was pale as death, but there was a sweet sunshine upon her face, that seemed to cast a gleam of light through the dungeon. She was sitting by your father, and telling him some pleasant tale, for I saw the old man smile—though the place was very dim.”
Alexis wrung his hands and groaned in an agony of impatience—but he still commanded himself so as to allow Linsk to proceed.
“Well—they were delighted to see me; and your sister, taking me apart, told me to go to the princess Lodoiska, and take to her a ring, and tell her that Pultova of Warsaw and his daughter were in prison, and to beg her immediate aid. I went to find the princess immediately, but she was gone to Poland. In the mean time, your father was tried and condemned. In this state of things, Krusenstern, who was in love with your sister, told her that if his love could be returned, he would save her father. She spurned him as if he had been a serpent, and this turned his heart to gall. Now he seems anxious that your father should die, and the fatal day is fixed for a week from to-morrow.”
Alexis seemed for a few moments in a state of mind which threatened to upset his reason: but soon recovering himself, his step became firm, and his countenance decided. “Take me,” said he, “to the prison, Linsk: I want to see my father and sister without delay.” They went to the place, but found that they could not be admitted. What now could be done? “I will go to the emperor,” said Alexis—“I will appeal to him.”
At this moment the message committed to him by count Zinski, came into his mind. Proceeding to the hotel, he made the most rapid preparations in his power, for proceeding to the palace. This, however, was a work of several hours. At last he set out. Dismounting from the carriage at the gate of the palace, he entered, and as he was crossing the court, a coach with a lady was passing by. At this moment, the horses took fright at some object, and rearing fearfully for a moment, set forward at a full run. They swept quite round the circular court with desperate fury, and were now approaching Alexis.
Springing suddenly upon them, he fortunately seized the bridle of one of the horses, and by his vigorous arm, arrested the progress of the furious animals. While he held them, the driver descended from his box, opened the door of the coach, and the lady, almost fainting from fright, sprung forth upon the ground. Alexis now approached the lady, and was about to offer to conduct her across the court to the palace, when some of the servants, who had witnessed the scene we have described, came up, and gave their assistance. As the lady was moving away, she spoke to Alexis, and asked his name. “Alexis Pultova,” said he.
“Pultova? Pultova?” said the lady, “Alexis Pultova, of Warsaw?”
“Once of Warsaw, madam, but now of Tobolsk.”
“Come, young gentleman,” said the lady, seeming at once to have recovered from her fright, “you must come with me.” Accordingly, she took the arm of Alexis, and they entered the palace. After passing through several halls and galleries, they came to a small room, which the lady entered and Alexis followed.
It is unnecessary to give the details of the interview. The lady was the princess Lodoiska, who had just returned from Poland. The story of count Zinski was soon told, as well as that of the father and sister of Alexis. The princess seemed at first overwhelmed with the double calamity which seemed to fall like shocks of thunder upon her ear. She saw at once the danger to which Zinski, whom she still loved with devoted attachment, had exposed himself by his rash return: and she also felt the extreme difficulty of controverting the artful and villanous scheme of the wicked Krusenstern, in respect to Pultova and his daughter.
She begged Alexis to delay his interview with the emperor a single day, and promised her utmost efforts in behalf of all those in whom Alexis felt so deeply interested. When he was gone, she went straight to Nicholas, and told him the story of the count, as she had heard it from Alexis. She then told frankly her feelings, and stated the circumstances of their former acquaintance, which have already been detailed to the reader. She then threw herself upon her knees, and begged for the life and liberty of her lover.
We need not say that it was a touching plea—but the emperor seemed unmoved, and positively refused to grant the request. He insisted that the count’s crime was one of the highest nature, and it was indispensable that he should receive a signal punishment. “His fate is sealed,” said Nicholas, firmly, “and it shall be executed to-morrow. I hope, fair lady, if you do not approve my mercy, you will at least acknowledge my justice.”
Baffled and broken-hearted, the princess left the stern monarch, and sought her room. On the morrow, Zinski was taken to the castle of St. Petersburgh, and preparations for his execution seemed to be immediately set on foot. In vain was the petition of Lodoiska: in vain the representations and the prayers of the captain of the Czarina. When Alexis came, and delivered the message of Zinski, Nicholas seemed to feel a touch of emotion; but it appeared to pass immediately away.
About four o’clock in the afternoon of the day fixed for the count’s execution, there was a heavy sound of musketry in the court of the castle, then a dead silence, and finally a gate was opened, and a coach, briskly drawn, issued forth, wending its way to the palace of the emperor. A man of a noble form, and still youthful, issued from the coach, and was conducted to the audience room of the Czar.
There stood Nicholas—a man of great height, and vast breadth of shoulder, as if he had been made as the very model of strength: at the same time, his countenance, lighted up by a full blue eye, expressed, amid a lofty and somewhat stern look, an aspect almost of gentleness. By his side was the princess Lodoiska.
The stranger entered the hall, and proceeding toward the emperor, was about to kneel. “Nay, count Zinski,” said his majesty, “we will not have that ceremony to-day. You have been shot, and that is enough. I owe you my life, count, and I am glad of being able to testify my gratitude. I sentenced you to Siberia, expecting that you would petition for reprieve; but you were too proud. I have long mourned over your stubbornness. Your return has given me pleasure, though I could have wished that it had been in some other way. I could not overlook your crime, so I ordered you to be shot—but with blank cartridges. And now, count, what can I do for you?”
“One thing, sire, and but one.”
“What is it?—you shall have your wish.”
“The restoration of Pultova and his family.”
“It cannot be—it cannot be! The rebel has just returned from Tobolsk, like yourself.”
“Then, sire, let him be like me—forgiven.”
“You are ready with your wit, count—but you shall have your way. I will give immediate orders for the liberation of Pultova; and he, as well as yourself, shall be restored to your estates at Warsaw.”
Shooting wild geese.