“True,” said Alexis; “I feel sure that we have met before—but I cannot tell upon what occasion; will you be so kind as to help me out of my perplexity?”
“And myself into a greater difficulty, ha! What is the penalty which the emperor bestows upon an exile, who dares to return to his country?”
“It is death—inevitable death!”
“And yet you wish Count Zimsky, the hermit of the banks of the Lena—the man who dug you out of the snow, and saved your life—to confess that he has smuggled himself on board of a Russian ship of war, and goes to St. Petersburgh to beard the emperor in his palace!”
“Yes, yes,” said Alexis, in profound astonishment—for he now recognised the hermit—“I understand you; I know you; but I must not seem to recognise you. Alas, alas, my dear sir, to what certain peril do you expose yourself! you not only violate the edict of your banishment, but will it not heighten your offence, that you take passage in a government ship, under this disguise?”
“No doubt; but the desperate man, has nothing to fear. I prefer death and torture, to exile in Siberia. I have determined to go to St. Petersburgh, to face the emperor, and let him do with me as he pleases.” At this point of the interview, the parties were interrupted.
CHAPTER XIII.
While the ship continued steadily on her voyage, Alexis found abundant sources of amusement. It might seem that being shut up in a ship was a kind of imprisonment, but our young Sable-Hunter did not feel it to be so. He often talked with Suvarrow, of Tobolsk, of home, of his father, and, above all, of his sister. Upon this latter subject, Suvarrow did not say much, but he spoke in such terms of tender interest as at once to bind the young officer to his heart, and, at the same time, to assure him that he was sincerely attached to Katrina.
The disguised merchant often took occasion to converse with Alexis, and while he cautioned him to keep his secret, he spoke of his plans and wishes. “I desire,” said he, “once more to see the princess Lodoiska; I desire to bid her farewell; and then I am ready to lay my head on the block, if the emperor wishes to take my life. At all events, death, imprisonment, the rack—anything is preferable to Siberia. To live in that chill, lonely, desolate exile; to waste, drop by drop, the blood of life; to see existence creep away with the slow ticking of the clock; to gnaw one’s own heart in very anguish—is what I cannot and will not endure. I will see the princess—and then I will go to the emperor; I will tell him that I once saved his life; and now, if he chooses, he may take mine as a compensation?”
Alexis was almost awed by the energy and firmness of the Polish nobleman; yet he looked upon his present enterprise as little better than courting death. One thing led him to hope for better things: he had sent the sable-skins designed for the princess, to Katrina, requesting her to see them forwarded to Petersburgh. This, he had no doubt, would be done; and, as it contained evidence that Count Zinski was still living and entertained the deepest affection for the princess, he fancied, with the fond ardor of a youthful mind, that she would be incited to obtain his pardon.