Roumiantzev vainly sought to get out of it, yet at last yielded. Tolstoi explained to him the plan of action.
When he had gone, Tolstoi fell once more into musings worthy of a Russian Machiavelli.
For some time past he had had a vague idea that only Afrossinia could, if she would, persuade Alexis to return. The night bird can outsing the day bird; she at any rate was their last hope. He had written the Tsar: “It is impossible to exaggerate the passion he has for this girl, and how much he thinks about her.” He also remembered Weingart’s words: “He dreads returning lest his father should separate him from that girl. I would like to use the threat, that she will immediately be taken from him if he refuses to return to his father. Although I cannot put my threat into execution without a special decree, yet we can see what the result would be.”
Tolstoi decided to go at once to the Viceroy, and ask him to command the Tsarevitch, in accordance with the Emperor’s will, to send Afrossinia away. “Besides, there is Roumiantzev’s love affair!” thought he, and such hope possessed him that his heart began to beat faster and faster. “Aid us, Mother Venus! Where clever politicians fail, a foolish lover may succeed.”
He had grown quite cheerful, and looking at his Spanish neighbour hummed with unassumed playfulness:—
See how fair in posies
With white lilies twineth
Red of roses!
And the little coquette, hiding her fan, and showing from under her black lace skirt a pretty foot in silver slippers, and pink stockings embroidered with golden arrows, ogled, and smiled slyly. And it seemed as though in this girl, Dame Fortune herself, as so often before, was again smiling, promising him success, decoration, and the title of Count.
Going inside to complete his toilette, he threw a kiss across the road with the most gracious of smiles.