‘But you will allow me first to write a letter to the Empress?’
‘I know not if I ought; my instructions were very emphatic.’
‘Listen! It is a last favour, a favour which is not refused to the greatest culprit. I entreat it of you.’
‘But it is my situation which I risk.’
‘And it is my life which is at stake.’
‘Well, write; I permit it. However, I inform you that I do not leave you a single instant.’
‘Thanks, thanks. Pray, request one of your officers to come, that he may convey my letter.’
The master of the police called a lieutenant of the Royal Guards, delivered to him the letter of poor Sutherland, and ordered him to bring back the answer to it immediately. Ten minutes afterwards, the lieutenant returned with the order to bring the banker to the imperial palace. It was all that the sufferer desired.
A carriage stood at the gate. Mr Sutherland entered it, and the lieutenant seated himself near him. Five minutes afterwards they were at the palace, where Catharine waited. They introduced the condemned man to her presence, and found Her Majesty in convulsions of laughter.
It was for Sutherland now to believe her mad. He threw himself at her feet, and seizing her hand in his, exclaimed: ‘Mercy, madame! In the name of heaven, have mercy on me; or at the least tell me for what crime I have deserved a punishment so horrible.’