I was far from satisfied with the thought of bringing mademoiselle to Mentchikof’s house, but when I unfolded the plan to her and to Madame de Brousson, they overruled my scruples. Najine was eager to embrace any opportunity to aid her lover, and my wife saw the advantages of the situation in the same light that they had appeared to Catherine. So it was that between the women I found myself of small consequence, and was forced to yield to their wishes. It was arranged that I should first introduce the testimony of Apraxin, and that then Najine Zotof would appear to make her own appeal. Meanwhile Apraxin was a prisoner at my quarters, and a sullen scapegrace I found him. His indignation against Najine knew no bounds, and I think that the little love he had for her, in those hours, turned to resentment. As I had anticipated, his attendant carried the tidings of his capture to M. Zotof, and in the course of the day I received a sharp message from him that my treatment of his relative would be reported to the czar; to which I replied that I should myself inform his Majesty of my action and of the cause of it,—a message which I thought carried confusion into the enemy’s lines, for I heard no more that day, and M. Apraxin remained biding my pleasure in my upper room, although in truth I had no relish for my task of jailer, and would have been glad to find another way out of my embarrassments. The impossibility of reaching M. de Lambert made me doubly uneasy. I had a genuine affection for the young man, and felt responsible for his safety. I did not go to the Kremlin that day, but even in the city the tidings had spread that the czar was to go again to the house of Mentchikof. Straws show the way of the wind, and it was easy to see the unhappiness of the sycophants who had deserted the favorite in his temporary obscurity. It is these miserable creatures who find the changing tide of court favor such a cause for tribulation, and overturn each other in their eagerness to arrive first at the gates of the fortunate. I was amused when I approached Mentchikof’s house in the evening to find the court, that a few days before had been deserted, full to overflowing with these poor butterflies that had flown at the little cloud of imperial displeasure and now returned. They were not, however, admitted. For some reason the favorite chose to have but a few present at the arrival of the czar, and when I entered the ante-rooms I found but a small attendance. Peter and his suite had already arrived, and a few of the imperial guards were at the doors. When I reached the salon, I found the czar surrounded by a larger party than I had at first supposed to be present, but there was no one there of the faction favorable to Zotof except the Field-Marshal Sheremetief. Madame Golovin, both the Arsenief sisters, their aunt Madame Tolstoi, and Mademoiselle Shavronsky were all at the farther end of the apartment, holding a little court of their own, while the czar was in the midst of his immediate friends, Mentchikof, Repnin, Sheremetief, and a dozen more. I saw at a glance that Peter was in an excellent humor. When I entered, he was standing with his hand on Mentchikof’s shoulder, and was laughing heartily at some jest that he had made at the favorite’s expense. As I advanced, the czar saw me, and there was a change—slight and almost imperceptible, but still a change—in his expression. Doubtless, I was unwelcome enough at the moment, and it may be that his keen wit instantly suspected a concealed motive in the occasion, for he could not have been ignorant of Mentchikof’s dealings with me and with M. de Lambert. However, he received me with courtesy, and at once asked a direct question in his usual blunt fashion.
“Well, M. l’Ambassadeur,” he said, “have you found M. de Lambert?”
“I have not, your Majesty,” I replied, “but I have certain information concerning him.”
A peculiar expression gleamed in his eyes for an instant, but he smiled.
“You speak gravely, sir,” he said lightly. “What is the information?”
I was standing directly before the czar, in the midst of many spectators, and I answered him deliberately.
“I am glad,” I said suavely, “of this opportunity to inform your Majesty of the outrage that has been perpetrated upon one of my suite. M. de Lambert was seized by a palace guard, betrayed into his hands by M. Zotof’s relative, M. Apraxin.”
There was a pause, and I saw the lightning in the czar’s glance, and Mentchikof stirred uneasily. The mine was fired, and we awaited the explosion.
“You must have been misinformed, M. l’Ambassadeur,” Peter said after a moment. “It is impossible that one of my guards could have dealt with that fellow. Produce your proofs.”
“Your Majesty,” I replied quietly, “M. Apraxin admitted his share of the transaction in my presence this morning, and he is at this time within call.”