“She was flayed,” laconically replied Alexis. “Her blood streamed down a back that was as red as your beautiful lips, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth offered him her lips to kiss.
“Now,” she jestingly asked, “who is now the handsomest woman in my realm?”
“You are and always were!” responded Alexis, embracing her.
“And now tell me,” said she, with curiosity, “what did this proud countess do? How did she behave, what did she say?”
Alexis, seating himself upon a tabouret at her feet, related to her all about the fair Eleonore, and what a terrible curse she uttered.
“Ah, nonsense!” replied Elizabeth, shrugging her shoulders, “How can one make such a stupid prayer to God! I shall never marry, and therefore never have a daughter to be scourged with the knout.”
But while thus speaking, her eyes suddenly became fixed and her cheek pale. She laid her trembling hand upon her heart—tears gushed from her eyes.
Under her heart she had felt a movement of a new and mysterious life! Heaven itself seemed to contradict her words! Elizabeth felt that she was a mother, and Eleonore’s words now filled her with awe and terror!
Fainting, she sank into Razumovsky’s arms.