“Najine is no longer here,” she said in a tone of exultation, “and I owe much to you. The day of my evil fortune is past, and I will remember always those who were kind to me. No man shall call Catherine ungrateful. M. l’Ambassadeur, I kiss your hands!”
With these words we parted. From that day she continued to ascend the path of ambition that was to lead her up the blood-stained steps of a throne. The Livonian peasant girl died an empress.
THE END.
ON THE RED STAIRCASE.
By M. IMLAY TAYLOR.
With Frontispiece. 12mo, 352 pages. Price, $1.25.
The scene of this thrilling story is Moscow, and the time, the boyhood of Peter the Great. Much of the action takes place “On The Red Staircase” in the palace of the Kremlin.
It is a thrilling tale of intrigue and barbaric plot. A French viscount visiting Moscow on a diplomatic service is the hero; and his adventures while trying to rescue the beautiful Zénaïde from a cruel uncle, who is bent upon marrying her to a profligate, are constant and of an intense order of interest.... The scenes are exciting. Escapes follow escapes. Secret missions with packets (stolen by hidden pursuers) are incidents of the plot; while sword-cuts, pinionings, attacks of all kinds, kidnapping, and desperate acts fill the pages.... The book is exciting, well sustained and excellently written.... Another “Zenda” story.—Chicago Times-Herald.
A most vivid and absorbing tale of love and adventure.... Miss Taylor has certainly an unusual gift of vivid word painting; and as we read, we can almost see the savage mob, and feel ourselves to be in danger. “On the Red Staircase” will give a far truer, because more striking and lifelike, picture of early Russian history than a multitude of laboriously written and ponderous histories of the time, and the authoress has apparently a most promising future before her.—The Churchman, New York.
After the many problem-novels and the myriad psychological disquisitions disguised as fiction, a wholesome, breezy tale like this, honestly and brilliantly told for its own sake, is a real treat to be enjoyed without thought or criticism.—The Bookman, New York.