And for a week the great company of young maidens waited in the terem of the palace, yawning and story-telling, and longing for an end one way or another to this state of tension, and to the long dull period of do-nothing.
It was whispered by some, gossiping with one another, as maidens would naturally do, that Ivan had refused to be married, and this report gave rise to some merriment and also to much bitter disappointing of ambitious hopes.
Thus it was a surprise to all when one morning four persons entered the terem, of whom three were men and one a woman. The men were Galitsin, Mazeppa—prime favourite at this time, both of the Regent and her admirer—and Ivan himself, the lady being, of course, the Grand Duchess Sophia.
The maidens were engaged upon their dreary daily business of gossiping, sewing, fortune-telling with cards, and so forth, and this incursion into their sanctuary caused much agitation, much reddening of pale cheeks and the paling of some rosy ones; much smoothing of skirts and of unruly locks that had escaped the restraint of band or of ribbon.
It was obvious that Ivan came unwillingly, if not unwittingly, into the midst of the maidens’ sanctuary. He started as he entered, and blushed, half turning as though to retreat.
‘No, no, Vanushka; be a man and a Russian Tsar!’ said Sophia, pushing him forward; and Ivan, with an angry look and a passionate word thrown back at his sister, obeyed and went forward.
But though certain of the maidens sighed as he passed, and some made audible whisper to one another, praising his beauty and what not—his beauty! and he assuredly the most niggardly endowed of mortal men in all that should make a man attractive to the opposite sex!—and though one picked up his handkerchief which he dropped as he went by, restoring it to the Tsar with a smile and a blush that suited her marvellously, he never glanced either at this maiden or at her fellows, but walked stolidly through the long chambers in which they stood and curtsied, his eyes fixed upon the ground and wandering neither to right nor left, even for a single instant.
Mazeppa’s eyes on this occasion were very busy, though Ivan’s were not. I have it from him, who was ever a good authority when the fairness of the ladies was the theme, that there were present that day some very exquisite types of Russian beauty. Of our own Cossack maidens one at least shone radiantly even in the midst of this constellation of charming maidenhood, and that was the fair and haughty creature who had preferred the distant chance of a very high seat, by the side of witless Tsar Ivan, to the certainty of a moderately honourable position as my own bride. Mazeppa laughed when he told me of this.
‘By the glory of love,’ he said, ‘Chelminsky, I believe she did wisely enough after all to take the chances! for if ever this fool of a prince opens his eyes and looks out among these young women, our fair Olga is as likely as any to attract him.’
‘And that is no chance!’ I replied; ‘for it is well known that he will not look out among them; and I think you know this as well as the rest.’