The Poles then offered to take me to be presented to the Countess of Pinneberg. I dressed myself, trimmed my moustache and beard properly, and powdered, perfumed, and curled my hair. I met with every attention at the house of the Countess. The Hofmarshall, Baron Korf, led me into the reception room. I looked about me, and noticed that the walls were tapestried with blue silk brocade, and that the furniture was upholstered in pink satin. All at once I heard steps and a gay voice.
The Princess Elizabeth entered the room, surrounded by a brilliant retinue. I learned afterwards who these were. Her very devoted friend, the celebrated Prince Radzivill, in a blue velvet kaftan[10] literally blazing with diamonds; near him his sister, the beautiful Countess of Moravia, and the Princess Sangoushko. After these came Count Pototski, in a beautiful red kountouska,[11] all embroidered with gold. The count was then at the head of the Polish confederation, our enemy. Next came the proud and rich Starosta Pinski, Count Prgezdetski, and near him stood the influential young confederate, the famous duellist, Charnomski, with several of Radzivill’s officers. Pototski and Prgezdetski wore ribbons and stars. I noticed that the Princess was dressed in an amazon of yellow silk, with gold embroidery, and that it was covered with black gauze; that she wore a small white hat with black ostrich feathers, and a pink mantle trimmed with blonde, and that at her belt were a pair of very small pistolettes of magnificent workmanship. She held a riding-whip in her hand, for she was just going to start for a ride on horseback. The proud Polish magnates addressed the Princess as “Altesse,” and when she sat down, remained standing; and in answering her questions bowed so low that they almost seemed to be kneeling.
I must confess that the Princess greatly impressed me. I saw before me a beauty of the first order, between twenty-three and twenty-four years of age, taller than the generality of people, graceful, slender, with lovely auburn hair, a very fair skin, beautiful pink cheeks, and a few freckles, which rather suited her style of beauty. Her eyes were hazel, very large and open; one of them rather squinted, and thus gave her an arch and playful look. But, what was far more important, as a child, and later on as a youth, I had often looked upon the portraits of the late Empress Elizabeth; and now on examining the Princess closely I was struck by the likeness to them.
The Princess noticed my confusion with evident pleasure. Saying a few gracious words to me in French, she gave me her hand to kiss, and having received me with all the ceremony etiquette exacted, with a look dismissed her retinue, and motioned me to a chair. We were alone.
CHAPTER V.
MY INTERVIEW WITH THE PRINCESS.
After having exchanged a few phrases—we spoke French, but I noticed that the Princess let fall many Italian exclamations—we both fell into a most awkward silence.
“You are a Russian officer—a sailor?” asked the Princess.
“Just so—Your—Serene Highness,” I answered, hesitating a little, not knowing how to address her.