“I did not,” he replied boldly; “not that I bore him any good-will, but I had no need to do more than watch. Zotof’s relative, Apraxin, did the work.”
“Ah!” I ejaculated, “where is the miserable coward?”
“Truly, I know not,” Tikhon said bluntly; “he is a sullen boy for whom I have no love. He has doubtless taken care to escape your vengeance.”
“Not if he is in Moscow,” I said sharply, all the while thinking of some way out of the difficulty.
“Are you satisfied, M. le Vicomte?” he asked after a moment; “am I at liberty to live, having betrayed my trust?”
“If what you have told me proves true, you are safe,” I replied slowly; “if it is false, you will answer for it. Let go his rein, Pierrot, and ride with him to my quarters, and let him not escape your close surveillance until I order his dismissal. I have another errand.”
I watched them ride away until their dark figures became parts of that other darkness, and then, turning my horse’s head, made all speed to the Kremlin.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MARRIAGE OF THE DWARFS.
I rode toward the Kremlin with a heavy heart; the perplexity and perils of my position were increased a hundredfold. My distance from my own government and my comparative isolation in Moscow made a demand for justice not only difficult but practically futile. The czar had no right to imprison arbitrarily one of my suite, but how absurd was it to talk of privileges to the autocrat of all the Russias! It was well enough to carry matters with a high hand and threaten the wrath of the King of France while M. de Lambert was a free man, but the coup d’état was accomplished; he was actually in a Russian prison, and might easily starve there before aid could come from Versailles. What folly had led him into the trap? What madness on his part had prompted this sudden seizure? Not only did I find these questions difficult to answer, but I found it difficult, too, to hit upon a plan of action. Never was man in more unfortunate position,—responsible for a delicate mission to the king my master; responsible for a reckless young soldier; responsible for the honor and dignity of my country, and dealing with a man of violent passions, for the czar was a volcano ready to breathe smoke and fire at a moment’s provocation. And how could I approach him now? Should I assume ignorance, and appeal to him to aid me in my search for M. de Lambert, or should I boldly proclaim my knowledge of the imprisonment and demand justice in the name of the King of France? I checked my horse and rode slowly to give myself time for thought. On the whole, I reflected that feigned ignorance would suit my purpose best, since defiance could scarcely help me and might deeply incense the czar. There was one chance in a hundred for the young man’s release, and that was a slender one. I fancied that he would be offered an alternative; renunciation of mademoiselle or imprisonment, perhaps worse, if Peter dared to offer a deeper injury to a soldier of France. Knowing the czar as I did, I doubted his hesitation at anything, especially where his personal feelings were involved, and I no longer doubted his love for Najine. How tangled is the skein of our existence! Here was a young girl, simple, beautiful, innocent, holding in her hand the knot of an emperor’s destiny, and by that accident of fate, involving so many other lives in the meshes. Here were love and hate, malice and revenge, secret treason and attempted assassination interwoven by the accident of one man’s fancy, simply because that he was royal.
Slow as had been the latter part of my journey, it was accomplished in spite of my reflections, and I found myself at the entrance of the palace. My dress was somewhat disordered by hard riding, but I made no attempt to adjust it, for it seemed to me that my appearance would be one evidence of the urgency of my errand. Entering the ante-room, I requested an audience of the czar. The chamberlain hesitated at first, saying that his Majesty was present at a marriage and would scarcely permit an interruption; but, hearing that my business was imperative, he consented to be the bearer of my petition, and, departing on his errand, left me for half an hour to my own reflections. I suspected that Peter was not anxious to receive me, and speculated not a little on the possibilities of the approaching interview, although all the time full of anxiety for M. de Lambert, knowing something of the treatment that he was likely to receive. After my patience was nearly exhausted, the chamberlain returned and informed me that it was the czar’s pleasure that I should be conducted to his presence. I followed the Russian, expecting a private audience; but instead of turning towards the czar’s own apartments, he led me through a low narrow passage to one of the large halls. We entered by a small door at the lower end, and I paused a moment on the threshold, regarding the scene with considerable astonishment. It was a splendid salon, barbaric in its gorgeous colors, which made a background for a fantastic painted decoration of palm-leaves and flowers, and it was spanned by glittering arches supporting the vaulted roof, and was lighted by a thousand tapers. In seats and upon cushions, arranged close against the four walls, reclined the gayest courtiers, the wild coterie that constituted Peter’s intimate circle of revellers. The center of the room was occupied by a crowd of dwarfs, of both sexes, some hideously and grotesquely deformed. They were in charge of a dwarf marshal who had eight assistants, all arrayed in gay uniform, bedizened with tinsel, and they were executing one of their weird dances, while at the upper end of the apartment, leaning back in his chair with a gloomy face, was the czar. After a moment’s observation, I understood the scene: there had been a marriage; two dwarfs had amused the audience by the mockery of such a wedding. Those unhappy little creatures were kept about the Russian court, its playthings and the objects of many a grim jest; the spies and eavesdroppers of rival factions; the tools and the dupes of the gay and the wicked; intimate with every intrigue, masters of every secret, and often dangerous in their hatred, as such misshapen creatures are likely to be; full of malice and all unkindness, betraying and betrayed; the most pitiful and the most miserable objects of that brilliant assemblage, and yet reckoned to be one of its sources of amusement; ministering now to the gloomy temper of a master whose evil spirit was upon him, for I saw, at a glance, that Peter was suffering from one of those seasons of depression that came over him like a cloud, and suggested an abnormal condition of mind in a man usually so forceful and full of easy good-humor, with all his violent passions. A great soul is isolated, and as the tempests sweep around the mountain’s loftiest peak, so also must storm and terror sweep sometimes over the spirit that has been set amid the rulers of the earth. As the dark hour came upon Saul, so also did it come upon the greatest Romanoff. He sat, shading his face with his hand, his eyes fixed gloomily on the dwarfs; two of the little creatures, gifted with singular beauty, were sitting at his feet, while the others had begun a country-dance, called by the Germans Grossvater, which Peter himself had learned when in his merry mood in the German quarter; but to-night no music could charm him into the mazes of the dance, and the revelry was subdued, for the courtier is quick to take his cue from the imperial temper. In the circle immediately about the czar, I saw Dolgoruky and Sheremetief, and, to my relief, at a little distance was Mentchikof. I was standing with the full length of the salon between myself and the imperial party, and was scarcely noticed by the gay young nobles near me, except when one or two turned to stare at my plain riding-suit and at the mud upon my boots. The chamberlain who had brought me made his way slowly to the upper end of the apartment, and announced my presence to his Majesty. I was watching Peter narrowly, and saw him glance at the man with a frown, his face almost instantly convulsed by that tic which made his features, for the moment, terrible. He spoke a few words to the chamberlain, who withdrew a little way and waited while the czar turned his attention again to the dancers and I stood unnoticed by the door. I began to chafe under this treatment, for not only did it suggest delay, but it might indicate a possible affront to me as an ambassador, for Peter had openly called me an envoy of France, and, although I as openly disclaimed it, the position was awkward. If I resented the neglect, I would double and treble the difficulties of my situation and of M. de Lambert’s. However, at the end of a quarter of an hour the chamberlain returned to guide me through the throng to the czar. The dancing had ceased, and the courtiers mingled with the dwarfs while the wine flowed freely. It was difficult to walk through the crowded room without being rudely jostled, and once I nearly stumbled over a dwarf who was scrambling about on the floor after a jewel that had fallen from some chain. Peter was talking earnestly to Sheremetief, but as I approached, he dismissed those immediately about him, and received me almost alone,—for the babel of tongues made it impossible to overhear a conversation carried on in a low tone. The expression of the czar’s face was still gloomy, and he greeted me with a certain hauteur that suggested a remembrance of our last meeting and his defeat at the hands of my wife. He measured me from head to foot, apparently noting every detail of my disordered dress and the pistols at my belt.