CHAPTER XVI
THE FALL OF THE REGICIDES
It was a usage of the Russian Ministry, in 1801 at least, for each member to present himself at the Winter Palace once a week on a stated day for the purpose of reporting on the affairs of his office.
Count Pahlen’s hour for meeting the Czar coincided with that of General Benningsen, and hence, on the forenoon of a certain day in early summer, seated in a three-horse car, they were making their way towards St. Petersburg after a night spent at Strelna.
Upon entering the suburbs the two ministers were immediately struck by the unusual number of people abroad. Like other cities St. Petersburg has its artisan class that rises early and works till late. On this particular morning, however, the toilers had apparently taken leave of work, and were standing in knots about the streets and squares.
As the day was not marked in the calendar as a feast, some affair of great moment must have caused them to suspend their labours. They looked, by their grave air and subdued voices, as men look when hearing of the death of a king.
As the Petersburgers caught sight of the carriage, their whisperings ceased, and they eyed the ministers with an air that sent misgiving to the heart of the timid Pahlen; for, if ever hatred was seen in the eyes of men, it was seen in the eyes of the Petersburgers that morning.
On the previous day their appearance in public had elicited cheers and other tokens of good-will. Now all was changed; in one night they seemed to have toppled from the height of their popularity.
Interpreting this in his own way, Pahlen concluded that in his absence some ill news must have reached the city; that devil of a Nelson—he was known to be in the Baltic—had perhaps been bombarding Revel.
When Pahlen turned into the Nevski Prospekt, he met with a fresh shock. As high minister of the Czar, he might surely look for recognition and respect from the fashionable and wealthy crowd, whose daily habit it was to drive to and fro along that grand thoroughfare. But no!