At this moment the Emperor Alexander entered the room, preceded by an aide-de-camp, who first cleared the space about the doorway in order that his Majesty might enter with effect, which he certainly did.
The Emperor was a splendid-looking man, tall and straight as a pine stem, and handsome withal; there was perhaps but a single man in all Russia who was his superior in manly bearing and in stately presence, and that was his younger brother and successor, Nicholas, who had not his equal in Europe.
"Oh, he is splendid!" murmured Vera Demidof, gazing in wonder and admiration—"what a man! Oh, the sight of him makes me proud to be Russian after all!"
"Ha! it is good to hear you praise something which is not French. Your 'little Corporal' would look but a poor creature beside him, come, admit it!"
"Bah! one thinks of something else than inches when one sees Napoleon; nevertheless in the Tsar Alexander God has made a very fine man; they speak well of him in Paris as a wise ruler."
The Emperor now made a short speech to the cadets, after which he distributed the prizes, saying a word or two of praise or encouragement to each successful candidate. Sasha Maximof returned to his place, flushed and self-conscious, holding the sword of honour which the Tsar had presented to him with a word of approbation.
"How proud he looks!" said Vera; "I am glad he has won it and that he has been a success here."
Afterwards, when the Tsar and his suite had departed, she sent young Constantine to fetch Sasha to her side, in order that she might renew her acquaintance with him.
"Don't say who it is," she called after him as he moved away, somewhat unwillingly, to obey her behest. Constantine adored his cousin and would far rather have had her to himself.
"A lady wishes to have me presented?" said Sasha, frowning slightly. "Well, I'll come presently; I am busy entertaining another lady, as you perceive;—stop, which is she?"