“And Dimitri Tzarevitch,[15] whom all Moscow met so joyfully, did he speak Russian?” asked the Princess contemptuously. “Besides, what can languages prove? Children learn and unlearn everything so easily.”
“Dimitri spoke with a ‘Little Russian’ accent,” answered I. “And then, after all, he was but—a pretender!”
“Gran Dio!” she exclaimed; and again coughing, the Princess laughed. “And you’re not ashamed of repeating those idle tales? Listen to me, and remember my words.”…
The Princess threw herself back in her chair. Bright spots appeared in her cheeks.
“Dimitri was the real tzarevitch.” She said this in a voice of conviction. “Yes, the real tzarevitch. He was saved from the hands of the assassin Godounoff by the cleverness of those around him, almost by a miracle, just as I was saved from the poison they gave me in Siberia. Ah! you did not know that? Yes, think about it all a little more. Oh! Signor Konsov, tell your tales to some one else, but not to me, who have studied in a strange land the genealogy of our house. The Shah of Persia offered his hand and his throne to me, but I refused him; he is the eternal enemy of Russia.… I shall be acknowledged. Do you hear? They must acknowledge me,” said the Princess, with great dignity.
Striking her knee with her fan, and beginning again to cough, she continued,—
“I believe in the star of my destiny, and therefore I choose you as my ambassador to Count Orloff. I do not exact a speedy answer. Think over it, weigh well my words, and then give me your decision. You, again I repeat, are the first Russian in an honourable military position whom I have met abroad. You also have suffered, and also escaped from prison by a miracle. Who knows? perhaps Heaven saved you, like many others, and sent you to me.”
Having said this, the Princess rose, and, with a most majestic salute, signified that the audience was concluded.