"'That which from afar in the light of the setting sun shone golden were strips of ragged shirts and gowns; in place of flags were beggars' sacks; the crown was composed of crutches stuck through an old bottomless cooking-pot. It was a triumphal arch built up of rags and beggars' sacks. While I stood transfixed at the hideous phantom, there stepped one from the midst of the crowd—a fine, tall old man with flowing beard, holding in his hand the customary wooden vessel, in which was a crust of bread—and said:
"'"This is the bread which your soldiers have left us. Taste it! It is made from the bark of fir-trees. The usual salt we cannot offer you, for we have none but our salt tears. On this triumphal arch you will find many a token left us by your soldiers; the ragged clothing of our wives and daughters. They themselves are not here, because they could not appear naked before you. The twelve chaste virgins commanded by the Hetman we could not present to bid you welcome, because in all the neighborhood there does not exist a single chaste virgin since you have quartered your soldiers upon us."
"'At these words Araktseieff gave the command to the companies of Guard Cossacks in our suite to disperse the rebellious crowd. But they were no rebels, but despairing men. As the trumpet sounded they threw themselves down by the wayside before our horses' feet, and, with hands and face uplifted to me, implored:
"'"Deliver us from your soldiers. Take your armed men away from us. We are loyal peasants, and will work. You must ride over our bodies if you wish to go farther."
"'It was impossible to make way along the ground so densely strewn with prostrate figures. Nor angry threats, nor gracious words availed. Without intermission they cried, "Take your soldiers away from us!" Seldom has a ruler been in such a dilemma. At length came help. From the military colony appeared rank upon rank of veterans, marching in close order, at their head a drum-major, as venerable and gray-bearded as was the peasants' spokesman. I recognized them as my grenadiers. They understood how to overcome the obstacles in their way. A blast of the trumpet, and the sappers advancing seized the peasants by their hands and feet, and, heaping one upon another, made summary way for the brigade to pass. The drum-major, planting his standard on the ground, said:
"'"Sire, do not leave us in this cursed place. We served you faithfully in the battle-field for fifteen years; we fought for you against Frenchmen, Germans, and Italians; and are we now to wage war against field-mice, grasshoppers, caterpillars, and, what is worse, peasants? In our youth we learned to fight like bears; we don't want, in our old age, to learn to plough like oxen. We understand how to use our guns and sabres, but we are not handy with scythe and sickle, and must we be mocked at by peasants? Lead us into the enemy's country, where behind every shrub lurks an ambush; but, for pity's sake, sire, do not leave us here among your peasantry. Send us into the field against idolaters, but do not leave us here to be cursed when we ask anything; cursed when we strike them; cursed if we only look at them. Shut us up in a beleaguered fortress, where we have only the flesh of fallen horses to eat—must season it with powder instead of salt; and for drink have only the water that runs down the walls; but do not condemn us to this forsaken spot on earth, to labor for our bit of bread, envied by a set of thieving, treacherous peasants. Bury us under the corpses of our brothers on the field of battle, but do not bury us alive in the military colony. Curses on him who first thought of it!"
"'Araktseieff here commanded the trumpeter to put an end to the man's speech, but now peasants and soldiers began to make such an uproar that the trumpet notes were deadened. Tlia' (the Czar's coachman), 'without awaiting orders, turned the horses' heads, and we drove back the way by which we had come, but avoiding the hideous arch. Thus ended my triumphal progress. When I reached home I read in the papers the glowing accounts of the ovations I had received. The red sky had truly betokened storm.' This is what my poor father told me."
"It is indeed sad for so mighty a Czar, when his people will not be happy, whom he would fain make so. My father's people were happier. Why does not your father go to them? They are his subjects."
"Bethsaba! What a capital idea! Don't let me forget it. I will propose it to him as soon as ever he is in better spirits. Just now he is so depressed. After he had said good-bye he came back to me again. 'I forgot to ask how you were?' 'That proves,' said I, 'that I must be looking well.' Looking anxiously at me, he asked if my face was always as red as then; and I, laughing, said 'Yes. But why are you so anxious? Does not the good God know how you love me; and are you not the anointed, the chosen one of Him to whom you pray for my recovery to health?' 'Yes, He knows,' he answered, gloomily, 'that I love you. But was not King David also His anointed, chosen servant? And did not the king sing all night through his despairing, penitential Psalm, and yet his child was taken from him, in punishment of his sin with Bathsheba?'"
"Who was that Bathsheba?" broke in the king's daughter. "It can only be another form for Bethsaba. Was there really any one who bore that name before me? I have hitherto searched in vain to find a namesake in society or in the Calendar. Never have I been able to find one. My godmother, Duchess Korynthia, who named me so at my christening—up to my sixth year I was a heathen—in answer to my question why I could not find it in any Calendar, told me it was another name for Elizabeth, and that St. Elizabeth's day was my name-day; and they give me presents on that day. And now the Czar has told you that there really was a Bathsheba. Who was she?"