The czar bit his lip. He was in a peculiar position, and I think regretted his folly in having meddled with M. de Lambert.
“Be kind enough, M. le Vicomte,” he said, “to produce M. Apraxin, whom I supposed long since departed from Moscow.”
This was the order that I had hoped for, and I despatched Pierrot to bring him, with a couple of Mentchikof’s followers to prevent his escape. In the interval before his arrival, the czar refused to be entertained, waiting with impatience for the coming scene. That he was violently angry at Apraxin’s interference, I did not doubt, but just what he intended to do it was difficult to imagine. His mood had changed, and his face was deeply flushed. He walked down the room to a chair near where the women stood, and, seating himself, leaned his head upon his hand and stared gloomily down the length of the salon, but with eyes that did not seem to notice the gay courtiers who filled it. The change in his mood affected the humor of the assemblage, and there was a general cessation of conversation, and every eye was turned towards his face. It was, perhaps, half an hour before one of the ushers announced that Apraxin was under guard in one of the adjoining rooms, and the czar immediately ordered that he should be brought before him. There was a little ripple of excitement when Zotof’s protégé entered and was marched down the room between two of Mentchikof’s men. His expression was as sullen as usual, and he made but a slight obeisance as he paused opposite the czar. Peter eyed him with angry contempt.
“I find that instead of being where you ought to be, in Archangel, Apraxin,” the czar said sharply, “you are here, and meddling with one of M. de Brousson’s party.”
He paused as if expecting a reply; but Apraxin made none, maintaining his attitude of sullen silence. The czar looked at him fiercely.
“Have you a tongue?” he demanded.
The blood rose to Apraxin’s hair.
“You are the Czar of Russia,” he said passionately, “but I am not your slave, but a freeman! By what right am I arrested by the Vicomte de Brousson, and dragged from place to place without any formal charge?”
“You were brought here by my order,” the czar replied sternly, “and you will do well to answer the questions that I put to you with civility, or we will presently find the means to give you a lesson.”
The czar meant the secret-chancery of Preobrazhensky, and Apraxin knew it, for I saw the color recede from his cheek and the look of a hunted animal show in his eyes.