NATALIE.
There are few Russian ladies now, who do not speak with equal
facility, German, French, and English; but Natalie Mierowna and her
cousin were then each mistress of them all,--and this was in the
comparatively barbarous time of Catharine II.
Thus their acquaintance with European literature enabled them to
excel in an easy and well-supported conversation of which the old
bovar, their kinsman, could make nothing; and which they could
embellish by their wit and power of quotation, and with an exquisite
_finesse d'esprit_ peculiarly their own. When this dangerous charm
was added to the great beauty of Natalie, she could not but prove a
perilous acquaintance for the young Scottish wanderer.
Her loveliness was indeed great.
She was a large, showy, and snowy-skinned beauty, almost voluptuous
yet very graceful in form, with fine dark eyes, that were dreamy or
sparkling by turns as emotion moved her; long-lashed they were, and
perhaps too heavily lidded. Her hair was of the darkest brown,
almost black; her lips were full, but flexible, small and pouting
when in repose, almost too large when she smiled, which was
frequently.
It was when she spoke of the Empress, that her white bosom heaved,
and a fiery expression seemed to pervade her whole features. She
said little, and that little was generally said with assumed
gentleness or real reserve, for language cannot be too guarded in
Russia; but her dark eyes flashed, her delicate nostrils dilated, her
short upper lip quivered, she threw back her proud head, and more
than once Balgonie saw her white hands clenched; for all the
dove-like softness of her nature seemed to depart, when she thought
of the affront that exile from Court had put upon her, and her whole
family, even to delaying the marriage of her cousin Mariolizza to her
brother Basil, to whom she was engaged--solemnly betrothed by a
religious ceremony.
She took the arm of Balgonie, and led the way to the dining-room,
which was lit by brilliant crystal girandoles, and heated, of course,
by a peitchka, the greatest luxury of civilised life that can be
found in a cold climate, and which warms a house more effectually
than any grate of coals can do. Built on that side of the large,
lofty, and magnificent room which was farthest from the windows, it
was formed of solid stone, with several carved apertures, and lined
with white shining porcelain; within it, blazed a constant fire of
billets and faggots, under the care of the dvornick, or house-porter,
and these were furnished by the Count's serfs or woodsmen from the
adjacent forests.
All made a sign of the cross in the Greek fashion, and seated
themselves; but weary and exhausted by his long ride and recent
immersion in a swollen and icy river, Balgonie found it almost
impossible to partake of the supper that was pressed upon him:
caviare on slices of bread to begin with,--"caviare from the roe of
the sturgeons of the Don," as the Count informed him,--roasted capon
and jugged hare, dried figs and conserves, prunes, and pastilla of
fruit and honey compounded, together with the champagne, Rhine wine,
and vodka, in silver tankards and goblets of jewelled Venetian
crystal.
The jaded traveller could make only a pretence of eating; but he
could drink deeply, for he was athirst; and more than one foaming
goblet of sparkling Moselle was filled for him, till he became giddy
and confused. Were the fumes of the wine mounting to his head? What
was the Count saying in an undertone? Was it of him that the cousins
were talking in some strange language, and covertly exchanging smiles
with their beautiful eyes? "Courage, Charlie," thought he, "this is
a bad beginning!"
Though people were not very particular as to a bumper more or less in
those days anywhere, in Russia least of all, an emotion of shame came
over the young Scottish, officer; he felt his cheeks and forehead
burn, and he made a vigorous effort to rally his senses, but in vain:
he heard the voices of Natalie and of Mariolizza; but he knew not
what they said or what he replied, for he felt as one in a
half-waking dream. They were talking merrily, however, in French,
which is always spoken well by the Russians; perhaps because the
tongue that can master Russ may achieve anything.
After a time he mustered sufficient energy and sense to beg that he
might be permitted to retire, as he had his journey to resume betimes
on the morrow; and he was escorted to his chamber by the Count in
person. Its four corners seemed to be in rapid pursuit of each other
now, and the floor and the ceiling to be incessantly changing places;
then his senses reeled, and the light departed from his eyes. He
found himself fainting.
The sudden and rapid journey from Novgorod, the lack of food and the
toil he had undergone for one night and two entire days, while
wandering with the treacherous Podatchkine, the crossing of the
Louga, and the bruises he had unconsciously received from several
pieces of floating ice, had all proved too much for his system, and
brought on a relapse of an old camp fever from which he had suffered
once when serving with the army in Silesia,--and in the morning he
was delirious.
Though weak, bewildered, scared by the prospect of loitering thus
when proceeding on urgent duty (for obedience and discipline become a
second nature to the soldier), enduring a raging thirst and a burning
pang that shot with each pulsation through his brain, stiff in every
joint and covered with livid bruises, he had still strength left as
dawning day stole through the double sashes of his windows, to
stagger from bed, and search for the dispatch, which, on the hazard
of his life, he was to place in the hands of Bernikoff, the Governor
of Schlusselburg.
He hurriedly, and with a tremor that increased, examined each of his
pockets in succession, then his sabretasche, and lastly the pocket of
the robe-de-chambre; but the dispatch--the dispatch of the
Empress--entrusted to him as a chosen man by Lieutenant-General
Weymarn was gone!
Lost, or abstracted, it was irretrievably _gone_!
Was he the victim of treachery or of a snare? Was it a dream that
the voluptuous and beautiful Natalie, with her snowy skin, her dreamy
eyes, and her fascinating smile, had been hovering about him--a dream
or a reality?
Alas! he knew not; for again the walls and windows were whirling
round him in wild career, and he sank on the floor insensible.
Poor Charlie Balgonie knew not that the morning on which he made this
alarming discovery was that of the second day since his arrival at
the Castle of Louga.