Von Gaden gave me a list of names.
“Colonels Gryboyedof and Karandeyef will be scourged with the knout, twelve others with rods. The Streltsi will regulate the severity of the punishment, and after suffering this degradation,” he added, “the officers will be allowed to go to their country places, in disgrace, when they have paid back all the money claimed by the soldiers.”
“And the Streltsi will look for fresh excitement,” I said.
“Even so,” replied Von Gaden, gravely; “it is the beginning of the end, and woe to the hand that unchains the wild beast!”
While we were talking, I had fastened Zénaïde’s pistol in my belt, and I now asked the doctor for a sword and a cloak.
“Where are you going?” he inquired, while complying with my request.
“In search of Homyak,” I replied briefly; “and failing to find him, I must make my peace with the czarevna.”
“You will find Homyak gloating over the scourging,” Von Gaden said; “but I fear it will be less easy to make peace with the princess: she is a true daughter of a czar, and nothing if not a tyrant born.”
“You have no love for Sophia,” I remarked, smiling.
Von Gaden shook his head. “My warmest friendship has ever been for the Czarina Natalia,” he said quietly. “I knew her as a young girl in her guardian’s house. I saw her in the midst of the dangers and intrigues of her early married life, and I see her now fighting steadily for her boy, who, as you and I both know, is the only czarevitch fitted to ascend the throne. No, I do not love the Miloslavskys, for I have seen them day by day playing into the hands of the turbulent soldiers; working by fair means or by foul—for what? Not to put a blind imbecile on the throne. No, no, but to crown the Czarevna Sophia herself.”