“Two Frenchmen, and yet he was not killed!” the czar exclaimed furiously; “where were their swords?”
“The night was dark, your Majesty, the ground slippery, and Frenchmen are not used to fight foes who strike in the back,” I said coolly.
Peter bit his lip. “You may bless your fortune that you are a foreigner, M. de Brousson,” he exclaimed with passion; “I have borne much from you. If you had been my subject, I would have had your head long since.”
“That belongs to the King of France,” I replied with composure, “and I trust it to your Majesty’s generosity.”
“The king my brother has to thank my forbearance that you carry it back to him,” he retorted tartly. “You are an old fox, M. l’Ambassadeur; but you always carry matters with a high hand.”
“Your Majesty compliments my wit too much,” I replied courteously; “but I crave now your permission to prosecute a thorough search for M. de Lambert.”
The czar made a gesture of impatience. “I am tired of the name,” he exclaimed; “prosecute your search by all means, and let me hear no more of him. He has his passports, let him use them; Moscow is no place for him.”
“Will your Majesty order one of your officers to furnish me with the means to continue my search?” I asked, pressing my point.
The czar frowned, and I saw that he hesitated. No doubt, well aware of M. de Lambert’s arrest, he found himself in an awkward situation. However, he called an attendant, and, scribbling a few lines on a paper, despatched him, and then turned to me. He had risen from his chair and stood there, among the gay costumes of his court, a massive figure in the uniform of a German ship-captain, without an ornament or an order.
“You will find an officer with the proper credentials at your disposal in the ante-room, M. l’Ambassadeur,” he said curtly; “use what speed you may. Find this Frenchman and send him across the border, or it may be necessary for me to hasten his departure;” and with these words he turned his back upon me, and, walking through the throng of dwarfs, who fell back at his approach until he had a wide path across the salon, he passed out and closed the door. A chill fell upon the assemblage, and men stared at me as if I were some ill-omened visitor. I found myself the center of observation as I made my way to the entrance by which I had come, and went out unaccosted by any one, which made me suspect that the court knew something of the seizure of my friend, and that there was peril. I was not reassured, and had accomplished nothing. I hurried through the ante-rooms to the farther one, where I found an officer of the Preobrazhensky regiment waiting for me, and, for a moment, thought that foul play was intended; but he addressed me with deference and showed his orders to obey my instructions. We went out together, and began a tedious and of course fruitless search for M. de Lambert. It was an easy matter for the imperial officer to take me to every spot but the right one, and I felt that I would have given much to read the lines that the czar had scribbled upon that slip of paper. A weary search it was, from place to place; the Russian always courteous, inscrutable, unruffled, and ignorant—as only a man can be whose business it is to be sublimely stupid.