“Take this for thy journey. On thy return to Moscow order a mass at the Archangel Cathedral, and have God’s servant Alexis remembered. Only be careful and don’t let it be known who this Alexis is!”
The old man took the money, yet neither thanked him nor stirred. He stood as before, with his head hung down. At last he lifted his eyes, and began in a solemn voice a speech which he had probably prepared beforehand:—
“As of old God quenched Samson’s thirst by means of an ass’s jawbone, so to-day has not the same God used my ignorance as a means to convey something useful and refreshing to you?”
But he suddenly broke down, his voice gave way, his solemn speech stopped short, his lips trembled, he staggered and fell at Alexis’ feet.
“Have mercy, our Father, listen to us, poor, groaning, and lowliest of slaves! Work zealously for the Christian faith; build up, control, give to the Church peace and unity of spirit. Tsarevitch! Fair child of the Church, our sun and Russia’s hope! the world is waiting to be enlightened by thee. The scattered sons of God rejoice in thee. Who but thou can succour us? We all are lost without thee, our beloved! have mercy!”
The old man knelt before Alexis, embracing his knees, weeping, and covering his feet with kisses. The Tsarevitch listened, and this desperate prayer seemed to gather into itself and give expression to the wrongs of all those who were perishing, outraged, and goaded to despair, a cry from the whole people for help.
“Enough, enough, old man,” he said, stooping and trying to lift him. “Am I then blind and deaf? Does not my heart ache for you? The sorrow is common to us. I feel the same as you do. Should God once grant me to rule over this country, I will do all I can to ease the people’s lot. Neither will I then forget you; I need faithful servants. And meanwhile bear patiently, and pray God to speed the fulfilment, for His holy will worketh in all things.”
He helped him up. The old man looked very weak and pitiful; but his eyes glowed with such joy, as though he already beheld the salvation of Russia. Alexis embraced, and kissed him on his forehead. “Good-bye, Dokoukin, we shall meet some day, God willing. The Lord be with thee!”
When Dokoukin left, the Tsarevitch returned to his leather arm-chair—which was old and well-worn, with the hair stuffing peering through the holes, yet remarkably soft and comfortable, and there he sank into a kind of doze or torpor.