How is she to hinder this without casting the slur of cowardice upon Pushkin? The delights of love alone would not be strong enough to hold him back—a yet stronger motive must be found. And she paces backward and forward under the trees in the dusk; in her soul reign the same discords which disturb the brilliant night, and she seeks in vain some quieting thought.
The Czar has grown melancholy; the Czarina is sick unto death; they live but for each other; have shut themselves up from the world. Their example is contagious. Even Prince Ghedimin has become reconciled to his wife, and no longer visits Zeneida. St. Petersburg society has scattered itself among the forty islands of the Neva. Every one lives to himself; all social life is extinct. Every visitor is looked upon suspiciously by the host as one of Araktseieff's spies. There is an oppressive calm over everything. People do not even write to each other any more. They tremble at the black inquisition.
Pushkin gives no news of himself. He sits at home in his desert at Pleskow. If he keeps silent about his happiness, he has a hundred good reasons for that silence. It is possible that Bethsaba has written more than once to Zeneida; but letters are an uncertain medium of communication. Who knows into whose hands they may fall?
This great calm, this isolation, this striving to keep up the spirits, began to be oppressive. Chevalier Galban received orders to go from villa to villa and organize some amusements among the aristocracy. Husbands were no longer to be tied to their wives' apron-strings.
It was rumored that the lovely Princess Ghedimin would break the ice and bring society together again by means of a great reception on the day of the Feast of Masinka, and, in order to make the reconciliation of the Prince and Princess more publicly known, that Zeneida would be included among the Princess's invited guests.
The haughty Princess sending an invitation to the equally haughty Queen of Song, whom the world credited with having been one of the Prince's flames! It is hard to say which woman has the greater courage, the one who sends or the one who accepts the invitation.
But Korynthia has made a still more difficult decision. She means to send Bethsaba an invitation, accompanied by a coaxing, forgiving, affectionate letter, written by her own hand. And in order to insure the young wife's acceptance, the Princess intends to offer the prospect of the imperial pardon. Bethsaba shall have the opportunity of soliciting forgiveness from the Czar for her own bold step, and the return of imperial favor towards her husband, banished by the Czar's displeasure to Pleskow. This bait would be irresistible.
All this had Zeneida gathered from Chevalier Galban.
What did Korynthia hope to achieve by this? What does she aim at in getting hold of Bethsaba?
It is next to impossible that the young wife should be tempted to leave her home during her honeymoon, and alone, without her husband, who may not leave the precincts of his estate. And yet, did she do so, what would be the consequences?