“You must wait,” he replied wisely. “You cannot go—as I can—in and out of the palaces and the cathedrals; you are big—a tall man,” he measured me with his eye, as though he thought me a giant. “Such a man cannot hide—any more than the Tower of Ivan Veliki can hide among the churches! I must find where the lady is, and then I must come for my master. Nay, fear not—she is safe to-day and to-morrow and the day after; not even Sophia Alexeievna rules to-day, but only the Streltsi. They have mobbed the Department of Justice and Serfage; they have thrown the papers in the street, they have threatened the Danish Resident, they would have killed the patriarch. Sophia will do nothing yet to the princess, for she has hidden her, and to-night we will find her.”
“Nay, now we will find her,” I said, determined to go with him.
But he fell on his knees. “Have I failed you at all, O excellency?” he cried.
I was forced to admit that he had, on the contrary, saved my life and hers.
“Then give me two hours—two hours and eleven roubles, O my master,” he said, “and surely I may buy a man’s soul and also his body—for there is vodka yet in the cellar—where, they know not—and red wine.”
“The little fellow talks sense, monsieur,” said the goldsmith; “I pray you be ruled; give him, at least, two hours. It is madness for you to attempt the Kremlin now. Until they find the poor Jew, Von Gaden, they will suspect every man in foreign clothes. Come, therefore, to our quarters; two hours of rest, and food, and more money will but prepare you for this desperate adventure.”
I knew there was truth in his argument, and my need of money was absolute if I was to take the princess out of Moscow. So, hard as it was to wait, I yielded, at last, to their entreaties, and went back to our quarters for two hours’ rest, of which I stood in great need, and for money and another pistol.
Prince Galitsyn had kept his promise and sent Maître le Bastien a guard of Streltsi; a score of villainous-looking knaves who were as ready to rob us as to watch us, and sat about the court-yard making frequent demands for brandy and meat, and their presence proving a cause for fresh alarms to the goldsmith, who kept the shutters up and the doors bolted and busied himself hiding his valuables in the earth of the cellar, assisted by Michaud. Meanwhile, stretched myself on my bed, in my clothes, resolved to rest but a few moments; however, we are only human, and my body was worn out with continued exertions and loss of sleep, and I had hardly touched the pillow before I dropped off into the heavy slumber of sheer exhaustion.
My room being in the second story, the shutter of the one window was open and the red glow of sunset shone full in my face when I awoke, and, for a moment, kept me from seeing Maluta, who was standing beside me, watching my slightest movement. With the return of consciousness came back the memory of my situation, and I started up, and began to snatch up my weapons. The sweet air of a May evening came softly in at the casement, and with it far-off sounds, harsh cries, and discordant music.
“Where is she?” I cried. “Why have I slept like a brute? Where is the Princess Daria?”