Peter strode towards the Boyar; he seized him by the collar and shook him. ‘Wouldst thou feed upon the fairest flower in the garden, fat slug?’ he said. ‘Go—crawl away and hide thyself—or I will crush thee with my heel! She is too good for thee, swine, in spite of all thy money bags!’
The Boyar panted with fear and surprise: he would have spoken, but he gazed upon the Tsar’s face and dared not. Then he took his hat and cloak and went out quickly.
‘Now, Boyar,’ said Peter, ‘show me this wench. I bring you a good suitor for her! This fellow Chelminsky may one day be Hetman of the Cossacks and call me brother; think of it!’
‘Let him come back when he is Hetman,’ growled old Kurbatof.
Whereat the Tsar laughed. ‘Well, Chelminsky,’ said he, ‘let that answer suffice for thee. Maybe thou and the Hetmanate are not very far apart——’ At this moment Vera herself entered the room, and the Tsar ended his speech with a long-drawn ‘Oh!’
CHAPTER XXXIV
For the rest of the interview my patron, this Tsar of seventeen, made barefaced love to Vera Kurbatof, ignoring my presence and the motive of his visit, which had been to advance my suit with her father.
Vera—being the senior of the Tsar by nearly two years—received his boyish homage with complacence. Being anxious to secure his goodwill, she was amiable and animated, and the Tsar—as my jealous eyes could perceive—thought well of her beauty and manners.
When we came forth, after a visit of an hour, he made no further mention, either to Kurbatof or to Vera, of my suit: he had forgotten the object of his coming in the delight of Vera’s presence.
‘That is the best wench I have yet seen,’ he said; ‘and if——,’ at this point Peter paused and became thoughtful.