Her eyes sought Orloff, who, with a scowling brow and gloomy features, was still standing on the shore.
“Count Alexis Orloff!” cried she, with her silvery voice, “we await you!”
But Alexis came not at her call. He hastily sprang into an officer’s boat, without giving her even a look.
“Alexis!” she anxiously cried.
“He follows us, your highness,” whispered the wife of Consul Dyke, while taking her place near the princess. “It would be contrary to etiquette for him to appear at the side of the empress at this moment. See, he is close behind us, in the second gondola!”
“Shove off!” cried Admiral Gluck, he himself taking the rudder in honor of the empress.
The boats moved from the land. First, the admiral’s boat, with the princess, the admiral, and the Englishwoman; and then, in brilliant array, the innumerable crowd of adorned gondolas containing the officers of the fleet.
It was a magnificent sight. The people who crowded the shore could not sufficiently admire the splendid spectacle.
When they reached the admiral’s ship the richly-gilded arm-chair was let down for Natalie’s reception. She tremblingly rose from her seat—a strange, inexplicable fear came over her, and she anxiously glanced around for Orloff. He sat in the second boat, not far from her, but he looked not toward her, not even for a moment, and upon his lips there was a wild, triumphant smile.
“Princess, they wait for you; seat yourself in the arm-chair!” said Madame Dyke, in a tone which to Natalie seemed to have nothing of the former humility and devotion—all seemed to her to be suddenly changed, all! Shudderingly she took her seat in the swinging chair—but, nevertheless, she took it.