On the red staircase

by Mary Imlay Taylor

The czarevna cast a keen glance at me as if she thought my reply a little ambiguous, but was far too astute to show any doubt of my fidelity.

“The service I ask is trifling,” she said calmly, lying as coolly as I ever heard any woman lie in my life, for I knew that no man was summoned at that hour to the Kremlin for a trifle; but I forgave her the lie, for the sake of the grace with which she told it.

“If your highness will instruct me as to the nature of the errand,” I began, stammering a little, for I was in a dilemma, not desiring to offend either faction, and knowing that I was treading on a mine which was liable to explode under the pressure of my heel. I thought that she was rather enjoying my discomfiture, for I saw a gleam of amusement in her alert eyes, and she had the most painfully alert glance that it has ever been my destiny to endeavor to evade.

“M. le Vicomte,” she said with a smile, and an air of bland candor, “I know well that I am calling upon a stranger for a personal service, and that you do not owe me the allegiance of a subject; but,” she added with perfect grace of manner, “you are a French gentleman, and I know your reputation for gallantry; therefore consider me, monsieur, as only a woman asking a friendly service at your hands, and forget that I am a czarevna of Russia, and a sister of the unhappy czarevitch.”

She could hardly have placed me in a more awkward predicament; I saw at once that a refusal would be a deadly offense, and I had heard that Sophia’s memory was long. There was no alternative but to meet the exigency with what grace I could summon to my aid.

“It is too much honor,” I said, bowing low, and feeling that it was indeed a greater honor than I desired, “and I am sure that there can be no doubt of my readiness to serve your highness at all times.”

“Alas, M. le Vicomte,” Sophia replied with a heavy sigh, “we scarcely know where to look for true friends now. The election of the younger czarevitch dashed our hopes to the ground, and we can but look with despair upon our elder brother, set aside in favor of a child of ten! In the hour of prosperity, friends are plentiful indeed; but when an ill wind blows, the ship is soon deserted. We poor orphans are indeed desolate. Therefore,” she added, with a sudden change from melancholy to graciousness, “we value more a token of your disinterested kindness. I will ask but a small service, monsieur; there is a little packet here that I would have delivered to-night, and I am at loss to find a trusty messenger. One of our own people might be apprehended, but you, M. de Brousson, could deliver it without hurt and without suspicion.”

I was not afraid of any risk except that which seemed imminent of being involved in some of the Miloslavskys’ schemes. If I had been at that time acting as an envoy of the French king, I could have evaded the czarevna’s importunity; but my diplomatic mission was long ago concluded, and I was in Russia on my own responsibility, and was aware that she knew it; nevertheless, I was in a fever of embarrassment. I stammered something about being too blunt a man to execute political errands; but the princess swept aside my objection with an ease that I could not but admire, while I chafed under it. She had me in her toils, and I saw that escape was impossible. She had already lifted the packet, which was a small one, from the table, and was examining the seals before handing it to me.

“You will do me a personal service, M. le Vicomte,” she said sweetly, “and one that Sophia will never forget. You need only to conceal this about your person and deliver it, with what speed you can, to Prince Basil Galitsyn, who is outside the city now, at the house of the Boyar Urusof. It is important that he receive these papers to-night.”

I started when I heard the mention of Galitsyn’s name, for it was rumored that the great czarevna loved this handsome prince. Galitsyn was a descendant of the Lithuanian monarchs, and belonged to one of the most illustrious families in Russia, besides being a man of attainments and of a dignified presence. I knew at once that my errand was of importance, and suspected that the messenger would be watched, and therefore the shrewd czarevna had selected a foreigner who was certain to escape suspicion. I received the packet from her hands with a reluctance that it was difficult to conceal. However, there are none so blind as those who do not desire to see, and Sophia feigned ignorance of my embarrassment. She took the pains to give me minute directions about the route to Urusof’s villa, and offered to supply me with a horse. But I declined the offer, for two obvious reasons: first, I preferred my own animal on a journey on a bad road at night; second, I knew that to have a horse brought from the imperial stables at that hour for me would attract attention, even if it did not arouse suspicion.