‘Never, never, my dear boy,’ she cried, weeping afresh.
‘Don’t weep so, mother, but listen to what I am going to say to you,’ Gerald added, and a bright smile lighted up his intelligent face. ‘I am now a tall, strong boy—almost as tall, and quite as strong, I think, as dear father was when he was carried off; and I mean to take his place and let him come home to you.’
Margaret looked up in amazement, but she did not speak, for her feelings were too powerful to admit of words.
‘I mean,’ Gerald proceeded, ‘to go to the Czar myself. I hear that he is generally to be found, either at his cottage in the island or else overlooking the works. I am not afraid of the Czar, mother: the errand on which I shall go will take away all fear. I feel as bold as a lion—aye, and as strong too.’
‘Thou art a noble boy, Gerald,’ cried Margaret, at length finding utterance. ‘Go,’ she added, ‘and may God bless thee.’
‘You consent then, good mother, you consent?’ cried Gerald in an ecstacy of delight. ‘My only fear was, lest you should oppose my plan; but if you consent, it will—it shall be done.’
‘Nay, my dear child,’ Margaret said, ‘I am not the only person likely to oppose your plan; the Czar may not be willing to make the exchange.’
‘Surely he will,’ cried the boy, ‘surely this strong limb—holding out his right arm—can do him better service than poor father’s now weak one can do; and gratitude and affection for one who has done so much for me will nerve it for its work.’
Gerald then begged Margaret not to say anything at home concerning his design, and that she would allow him to put it into operation immediately.
He had heard that it was the Emperor Peter’s constant practice to rise at five in the morning, and he determined on seeking him at that early hour, before his attention was taken up with the business of the day. There were difficulties, however, in the way of his carrying out this purpose. The little island on which Peter made his home, was a good day’s journey from their village, and as the only houses built upon it were the Czar’s (which was but a mere hut,) the prime minister’s and a sort of inn, where Peter and his friends mostly spent their Sundays, he was fearful lest he should not be able to get any conveyance across the water.