When midnight had struck and the orchestras in the various rooms were all playing national airs, as a signal that the grand-duchess was about to retire to her private apartments, the black-clothed young man hurried into the malachite hall, and reached for a glass of sherbet from the tray which a servant was bearing around the room. Suddenly, however, some one pulled his hand away, and said: "Don't drink that!"
The young man turned, and for the first time that evening a smile of genuine pleasure lighted up his face.
"Ah, is it you, Leonin?" he exclaimed.
Leonin was a young officer of the guard in tightly fitting uniform, a muscular young fellow with full face, carefully kept blond mustache and side-whiskers, and thick blond eyebrows which went well with his keen and animated gray eyes.
"I thought I had lost you in the dancing-hall," said he, with friendly reproach in his tone.
"I was dancing with your betrothed. Didn't you see me? She is a charming girl."
"Charming indeed; but how does that help matters for me? I can't marry her till I am of age and wear rosettes on my epaulets; and that won't be for two years yet. A man can't live all that time on a pair of beautiful eyes. Come with me."
The other hesitated. "I am not sure whether we ought to run away so early," said he.
"But don't you hear the bands playing the national hymns?" asked his companion. "Besides, we can slip out through the rear door; a sleigh is waiting for me there with my furs. Surely you haven't any more engagements with the wax dolls here?"
"Yes, I have," was the reply; "I am down for a quadrille with the Princess N——, to whom I was just now presented."