When I restored Vera to her father, which I did, be sure, not without
some pomp and posturing, he looked at me in astonishment.
‘Why,’ said he, ‘is not this the youth I was to have knouted? You are
the Cossack Chelminsky!’
‘Certainly I am,’ I admitted.
‘One Cossack takes her and the other brings her back! One Cossack
prevents her marrying with the Tsar, and the other entreats me for her
hand, saying he will be Hetman and the brother and equal of kings. When
I do not trust him, and will marry her to a great Russian Boyar, Mazeppa
runs away with her and Chelminsky brings her back! What is Mazeppa’s
next move?’
‘Oh, you have done with Mazeppa, Boyar, fear not: ask, if you will, what
is Chelminsky’s next move; that is different!’
‘Well,’ said the old man, ‘what is it?’
‘Chelminsky says,’ I replied, ‘that he too has been promised the
Hetmanate of the Cossacks, and that he would claim this Vera for his
own!’
‘A cool request, indeed!’ exclaimed the Boyar, laughing; ‘but I trust no
more Cossacks! What, will you both be Hetman of the same province at the
same time?’
‘If Mazeppa had the word of a Tsar to back his chance, so had I: there
are two Tsars in Russia.’
‘Oh, oh!’ laughed the Boyar, ‘and each Tsar will nominate one Hetman,
and the stronger of these shall cut the throat of the other. Is that how
the matter shall be? Or shall the greater liar or deceiver prevail over
the lesser, both being Cossacks?’
‘Well, I will bring you the Tsar Peter’s word,’ I said angrily, ‘and we
shall see whether you dare speak thus of him whom the Tsar has promised
to support.’
‘Now this grows interesting,’ said the Boyar. ‘What! are the joint Tsars
to unjoin in order that Chelminsky may oust Mazeppa, or Mazeppa
Chelminsky, in the headship of a few Cossack thieves? Leave the Tsar
alone, Chelminsky, and leave my girl alone also, and return among your
Cossacks. The wench shall marry a Russian. She might have called herself
Tsaritsa: maybe she still might, if she would! If she will not marry
the Tsar, she shall marry some Russian who lags not so very far behind
him in power and in wealth, but neither a Mazeppa nor a Chelminsky.’
I left Kurbatof in wrath, vowing that he should sing a different tune
when the Tsar Peter, that young lion, began to roar. Meanwhile I
presented myself at Preobrajensky, where I found the ‘Pleasure Regiment’
grown larger than ever, and its drilling busily proceeding; and though
the tall young Tsar himself played with the troops as though they were
no more realities than so many companies or squadrons of tin soldiers,
there were many officers, both young and old, who were much in earnest.
The Tsar was greatly diverted by my story of Vera, and of how Mazeppa
had nearly carried her away to the Ukraine and I had brought her back.
‘Is she so fair that she has made fools of two Cossacks?’ he laughed.
‘Ask his Highness Ivan Alexeyevitch whether she is fair,’ I said: ‘this
is she who so nearly was Tsaritsa!’
‘Hey, but our little Praskovia was not to be surpassed. What said we,
Chelminsky, eh? Who would have thought my poor Vanushka would prove
himself a man of such good taste, or went he solely on the advice I
sent him? My mother declared it would be all one to Ivan whether he
married this maid or that; but I say he knows one from another, and
some, I am told, would have given an eye to marry him!’
The Tsar Peter laughed much over this matter, namely, that Ivan should
have shown preference for a maiden and that some should have desired to
marry him. ‘Well, then,’ he ended, ‘as to this Vera Kurbatof, what would
you do?’
‘I have out-foxed Mazeppa,’ I said, ‘and would have the fruits of my
victory. Her father’s head is turned by her almost success at the
bride-choosing, and he will not hear of me.’
‘How would it be to tell the fool you may one day be Hetman?’ laughed
Peter; but when I declared I had done so, and that Mazeppa had made the
same boast, he looked grave.
‘If that be so, and he prefers to believe that the Regent’s word for
Mazeppa will prevail over my word for Chelminsky, how shall he be
persuaded except he wait to see the matter proved?’
‘Write me a word on paper, Tsar,’ I said; ‘maybe it is my word he
disbelieves, not yours.’
‘To be shown by him to the Regent, and she to be put upon her guard? You
speak like a fool, Chelminsky, and a dangerous fool! I wish your tongue
had not wagged of this. Will the fool blab to my sister that I have said
this and that?
‘Fear not, Tsar, for at present he thinks nothing of the matter,
misbelieving all that I have said and all that Mazeppa has said. We are,
he says, two Cossack liars, and there is an end of the matter.’
‘And a good end too!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘Well, when I come to town for
St. Ivan’s Day, which is early next week, it may be I shall go with you
to see this Kurbatof, and if we find that he is a discreet Boyar, and
one likely to be of service to me (supposing that certain things
presently happen which Boutourlin and some of the others think
possible), I will show him that you are my man, and that he might do
worse for this wench of his than let you have her.’
And thus, perforce, I was obliged to leave the matter for the present.
I went with Tsar Peter, or rather among those who accompanied his
Highness, to the Cathedral within the Kremlin, in Moscow, for the solemn
service of St. Ivan’s Day, and waited near him at the great entrance
until the Tsar Ivan with the Regent should arrive and be greeted by the
crowds who awaited him, for this was his name’s day.
And presently there came driving up the great state carriage of her
Highness, and in it the Regent herself, the Tsar Ivan, Galitsin, who sat
as high as the Tsar, or higher, and--smiling radiantly, most beautiful,
the darling of the shouting crowd--Praskovia Soltikof, the
Tsaritsa-elect.
Striking was the contrast this day between that lovely maiden and him
whom she must presently own for husband and life-mate!
Ivan sat, timid, cowering from the people, angry to have been brought
among them, and frightened, but half understanding what passed, hiding
as well as he could from the crowd that stared and pointed and bowed and
laughed and shouted around.
She, the very flower and queen among women, proud and radiant, loving
the applause of the people and drinking it in like strong wine, smiling
back upon them, winning all hearts: truly a beautiful picture!
Sophia the Regent smiled also, happy to have brought this bride-choosing
to so good an issue and to see that the people applauded the choice of
the Tsar. Galitsin sat proud and stiff, neither smiling nor frowning,
but having an eye for every face in the crowds near the carriage,
anxious to read the thoughts of the people and if possible to hear their
opinions, as well as might be in the din and babel of sound about him.
And it was well indeed that there sat one in the carriage whose eyes
were wide open this day, and his quick brain alert to perceive all that
passed in the crowd, for otherwise it would have gone ill with the
Tsar’s beautiful young bride!
I, too, had been in danger without being aware of it until a few moments
before the arrival of the Tsar and the Regent.
For as I stood watching the crowd at the great door of the Cathedral,
together with the Tsar Peter and a number of his own people, I had
suddenly perceived Olga Panief.
She stood below, at the bottom of the steps and among the crowd, shawled
and half disguised, looking for me, I doubted not, the poor mad thing,
and anxious to do me an injury if she could come close enough. She had
not seen me, and I placed myself in such a way that she should not
perceive my face, though she could not have reached me even though she
had caught sight of me.
Nevertheless I kept a watchful eye upon her, for I would rather have no
share in a brawl with a mad woman, in the face of all Moscow.
But I might have been quite at my ease, for--as soon appeared--Olga had
another object this day for her murderous ire, and I was forgotten for
the moment.