“Trust me, mademoiselle,” I said, smiling; “not only for her sake—but for yours, too.”
“I thank you.” The girl poised on one foot, ready to run back to her cousin; “and—and I do not believe you are a horrid old goldsmith either!” and she was off, fleet as a young fawn.
XI: THE PLOT THICKENS
WITH the miniature in my possession again I had not a moment to lose. It was necessary to take it to Sophia at once, and I could not release the chamberlain Kourbsky until I had seen the czarevna. Indeed, I did not know how I could let him out at all, for he would surely stir up a great commotion. Yet it had been absolutely necessary to get rid of him, or to betray Daria. And as I sped toward the Red Place again, I made up my mind to think no more of the chamberlain until Sophia was satisfied with her picture, and then to find some way out of the other difficulty. That he was wild with rage in that little turret room I did not doubt, and thinking of him as I saw him last, sitting in a cloud of dust, I laughed aloud—but I laughed too soon.
Maluta had waited for me in the garden, and was at my heels now, and, having found him so useful, I suffered him to follow me still. It was fortunate that I did, for as I drew nearer to the palace it occurred to me that, without Chamberlain Kourbsky, I had no means of reaching the private audience chamber of the terem, and while casting about in my mind for an expedient that would help me, I bethought myself of the dwarf’s former place at court. Calling him to me, I told him that I wanted to enter the terem and see the czarevna, mentioning my former interview with her, an hour or more before, and explaining my anticipation of difficulty in obtaining admittance. Maluta listened attentively, looking up at me sideways, his forehead wrinkled and his great ears standing out. As I finished, he nodded knowingly.
“You cannot enter by the public way,” he said, at once, “but there is a way—follow me, excellency.”
We were at the foot of the Red Staircase; above us rose the palace. It was about two hours before sunset, and the shadows fell long across the court of the Kremlin. It was the 24th of May, and the aspect of the place was singularly peaceful; the bells of the Church of Saint Basil the Blessed began to ring sweetly and softly.
I looked down at the tiny creature at my side.
“You belong to the court no longer,” I said. “How can you obtain admittance?”
He laughed, malicious mischief peeping out of his sharp eyes.