“There’s no Russian church here. The admiral has lent his, and that accounts for the Princess’s arrival at Livorno, and her presence on board.”
After a little while the decks began to be deserted, and many of the suite, getting into the barges, were rowed back to land, amongst others, the two cunning and clever Greeks, Ribas and Christianok.
On seeing them, I do not know why, there flashed through my mind the words of the count to Ribas,—“Priest and vestments.” In the meantime there were no clergy to be seen on board. The deck was becoming more and more deserted. The officers were walking backwards and forwards, gaily chatting and pointing their glasses at the occupants of the boats. The band played a very gay march, and then an aria from a well-known opera.
What took place below all this while has remained a mystery. Several asserted afterwards that nothing particular had occurred, but that at table the betrothal of the count and Princess had been solemnly announced, and that all had drunk the health of the bridal couple. Others on oath protested that in another cabin there had been a mock marriage between the count and Princess, so that Orloff, in her eyes at least, might seem to be keeping his word, and that in this sacrilegious ceremony the rôle of Priest and Deacon had been played by Christianok and Ribas, who were dressed up in the vestments of the clergy of the fleet, the first acting the part of deacon, and the second that of priest.
But I am running on too fast; let us return to the deck of the Three Hierarchs.
My strength fails me; my heart bursts; the pen falls from my fingers when I recollect all that I was so soon to see.
Wherever I shall be,—if I remain, by a miracle of God, alive, or if I am destined to perish in the waves,—the remembrance of all that I then saw will only be effaced from my mind with my last dying groan.
The deck was full of life. All had left the cabins, and were now sitting in detached groups; there was laughing and talking on all sides; servants were running to and fro, with cooling drinks and wine.
The Princess was leaning over the side of the vessel. The wind was rising; it was getting cool. She called me to her side with a friendly nod. I helped her to put on her mantilla.
“If I live a hundred years I shall not forget this,” she whispered, with a happy smile, shaking me warmly by the hand. “You have kept your word. All is being fulfilled. I shall soon be in Russia, and once there—why not hope? They will proclaim the future Empress Elizabeth II.… Oh! now is the time for wonders. The present empress, what was she a little while ago?”