Alexis clutched his head with his hands; his face became convulsed and purple. He remembered the Tsar’s custom of laying stillborn children in spirits of wine, and preserving them along with other curiosities in his museum.
“You have sealed him up in a glass jar, a glass jar with spirits of wine!—— The heir of the Tsars of Russia swimming in spirits of wine, like a frog!” He burst out into such wild laughter that Peter shuddered all over. “A madman,” he again thought, and he felt that intense loathing for his son which the sight of spiders, cockroaches and reptiles always roused in him.
But this feeling soon gave place to the blindest rage. His son was holding him in derision, and was purposely playing the madman so as to escape any further inquiry into his past deeds.
“What else have you to confess?” he asked; thus renewing the interrogation without deigning to notice the condition of Alexis.
The laughter of the latter ceased as suddenly as it had burst forth. He threw back his head until it rested on the back of the arm-chair, and turned pale as death. He remained silent, but his blank gaze was fastened upon his father.
“If you were reckoning upon the support of the people,” continued Peter, raising his voice and forcing himself to appear calm, “did you not send envoys to prepare them for the rising? or perhaps you had learnt that they were already prepared?”
Alexis remained silent.
“Speak!” cried Peter, and his face became convulsed with rage.
The face of Alexis quivered. He opened his lips with difficulty, and said:—
“I have told you everything. I shall say no more.”