Boris rattled his weapon for answer, but he looked grave and preoccupied. "Go home, your Majesty, I entreat you," he said; "don't run into needless danger. I can settle accounts with these men alone."
For a moment the Tsar looked as black as thunder. "What!" he cried; "go home, and miss the play? Don't be a fool, man. Am I to be afraid of my own officers? No, my Bear-eater. You may cut and run from an old bear if you like, but not I from a Streletz, or any number of Streltsi. Come on!" The Tsar ended with one of his loud laughs, and dragged after him poor Boris, whose cheek was red by reason of Peter's allusion to his escapade with the bear.
Through the wretchedly lighted streets they sped until they reached the Uspensky, where, in the distance, they soon espied a group of figures standing at the corner as though awaiting an arrival.
The two tall men, shrouded in their mantles as they were, approached close up to the group of officers before they were recognized.
"It's the Tsar!" some one whispered at length. "Round the corner all, and away—quick!"
Off went the party, scudding down the road like a pack of frightened sheep; but the Tsar's loud voice of authority soon recalled them. They crept back in a huddled, scared group.
"Good evening, Zaitzoff," said Peter. "How are you, Shurin? What, Ulanof, is that you? Good evening, gentlemen all. You are waiting for the pleasure of seeing my friend Boris Ivanitch, I believe. Well, here he is."
No one spoke a word. The Tsar laughed. "Is it not so? Zaitzoff, speak!"
"It is true, your Majesty," said Zaitzoff at length. "We came to meet the gentleman you name, with whom we have a quarrel."
"Oh, indeed!" said the Tsar, in affected surprise; "what, all of you? Do you all desire to quarrel with my friend? It is most flattering, upon my word, gentlemen. And do you still wish to quarrel with Boris Ivanitch, now he is here? Positively I was under the impression that I observed you all racing down the road there, as though anxious to get out of his way!"