For the rest of the interview my patron, this Tsar of seventeen, made
barefaced love to Vera Kurbatof, ignoring my presence and the motive of
his visit, which had been to advance my suit with her father.
Vera--being the senior of the Tsar by nearly two years--received his
boyish homage with complacence. Being anxious to secure his goodwill,
she was amiable and animated, and the Tsar--as my jealous eyes could
perceive--thought well of her beauty and manners.
When we came forth, after a visit of an hour, he made no further
mention, either to Kurbatof or to Vera, of my suit: he had forgotten the
object of his coming in the delight of Vera’s presence.
‘That is the best wench I have yet seen,’ he said; ‘and if----,’ at this
point Peter paused and became thoughtful.
‘Your Highness wished to say,’ I suggested, ‘that if the _Boyarishnya_
Vera----’
‘If she were not older than I, she might do for me when it is my turn to
marry, next year.’
‘Say, rather, if she were not promised to another,’ said I, flushing.
Peter frowned.
‘Another? What other?’ he asked.
‘Your Highness came to arrange my suit,’ I said, angrily enough; ‘not to
seek a bride for your own marrying.’
‘Oh--oh! the Tsar must choose first! But, Lord, what a thundercloud is
in thy face! Cheer up, man! is thy happiness bound up in this wench?’
‘I did not look to have the Tsar for a rival,’ I blurted. ‘This is not
fair dealing, Peter Alexeyevitch!’
‘There is no rivalry yet. Fear not, she is too old for me. My mother
will have me take a wife of sixteen; this one is nineteen, or near it,
but she is handsome----’
‘Fear not, man,’ he suddenly continued, giving me a mighty slap upon the
back: ‘thou shalt be Hetman as soon as I am true Tsar, and then this old
fool shall let thee take his girl.’
‘Now the Tsar speaks,’ I said, relieved and gratified. ‘I knew not who
spoke in thy voice before.’
‘Oh, it was I, my friend,’ he laughed. ‘She is too old for me, or I
might yet take her out of thy hands.’
Nevertheless, Vera informed me to my surprise, when next I saw her, that
Peter had been each day, and that he had commanded the Boyar, under pain
of grievous punishment, to see that his daughter remained unbetrothed
for a year.
‘And what means that, Vera?’ I asked gloomily. ‘That he would preserve
thee in safety for me to wed when I am Hetman, or that he will think of
thee for himself when the time comes for his bride-choosing?’
‘At any rate, it will keep our fat Boyar away,’ she smiled. ‘For the
rest, save me from another Tsaritsa-choosing! Sooner let us----’ Vera
paused.
‘Let us what, my Vera?’ I insisted. ‘Speak and fear not.’
‘It is most sinful to marry without the consent of the parents,’ she
said; ‘and yet I can imagine that such a step might be necessary. My
father has been cruel in these matters, though I know well that he seeks
my advantage as he sees it.’
The end of this conversation was that we were quite agreed to take
matters into our own hands and do as we willed rather than as Tsars and
fathers ruled it. But destiny proved too hard for us.
For the Boyar Kurbatof, seeing great hope for his daughter’s advancement
in the behaviour of the Tsar Peter, who insisted that Vera should remain
unbetrothed for a year, now suddenly altered his attitude towards Vera;
and whereas she had hitherto enjoyed more freedom than was usual among
Russian maidens at that time, he now instituted the strictest _terem_
for her in his own house, placing her behind iron bars and silken
curtains, and forbidding and effectually preventing all access to her
except by her old nurse.
Thus it happened that the interview at which we had arranged to rebel
proved to be our last meeting for many a day; and to every application
made by me to the Boyar for a sight of his beloved daughter, I received
the reply: ‘Come at the end of a year if you are Hetman.’
The Tsar Peter was admitted several times before his return to
Preobrajensky, and this added much to my torture, which became so acute
that I gladly received, presently, the call to ride with my Cossacks
upon Galitsin’s new expedition against the Crimean Tartars, leaving Vera
to the care of the Highest and of her own discretion.
When I came to Batourin I saw Mazeppa for the first time since I had
taken Vera from him at the post station, and I came prepared for war;
for surely, I thought, I should be called to account.
But Mazeppa was inclined to treat the matter lightly.
‘What!’ he said. ‘You bring no wife? Where, then, is the fair, foolish
Vera?’
‘I have no wife. The Barishnya Kurbatof remains in Moscow. And why, I
pray, is she called foolish?’
‘Oh!’ he laughed, ‘it would not become me to say; but, tell me, has she
proved herself so wise that she has sent Chelminsky about his business?’
‘She is and remains wise,’ I replied, ‘since she both escaped Mazeppa
and prefers to tarry where she is, safe from false friends and
hypocrites.’
‘Come, Chelminsky, take not such matters too seriously: women are toys.
If she has played thee false, as she has served me and others also, it
is a matter to laugh at, not to weep for. She is not worth a tear, my
son, nor a frown--was there ever woman worth crying for?’
‘I will uphold the honour of Vera with my sword; therefore speak well of
her or not at all,’ I said angrily; and Mazeppa laughed and shrugged his
shoulders, though he looked annoyed. I have since thought all this
indifference was assumed to deceive me, and that he had not yet
forgotten his love for Vera, which was real enough at the beginning,
and when he would have stolen her from me.
After this we spoke of military matters, for Mazeppa was at this time
the Hetman’s chief minister for all that concerned warfare and the
arming and preparing for campaigns, and it was necessary to put fifty
thousand lances in the field very quickly to help Galitsin and his
Russians against the Tartar Khan in the Crimea.
Now Samoilovitch, the Hetman, took command of our troops, wishing for
military glory, and more especially to gain favour with Sophia, Regent
of Russia, by personally assisting her dearly-loved Galitsin--from whom
and from Sophia herself he had lately received little but coldness, for
which, had he but known it, there was none but Mazeppa to thank.
Mazeppa, preparing the ground for his own succession as Hetman, which is
a life office, or is held until deposal, had traitorously done and said
all he could to undermine the position of Samoilovitch, who suspected
nothing, but trusted Mazeppa absolutely.
Therefore, when the Crimean expedition failed, and it was necessary to
find a scapegoat in order that Galitsin, the favourite, should not
suffer blame, the responsibility was shifted from his shoulders upon
those of our poor Cossacks, and especially upon Samoilovitch, the
Hetman.
The result of which treachery was that Samoilovitch was arrested in his
tent and sent to Moscow, and thence to Siberia--a deposed, exiled, and
ruined man, without being permitted to visit his home before departure.
Now when rumours reached the army in the Crimea that Samoilovitch would
be deposed, it occurred to me immediately that Mazeppa must, in some
way, have a hand in this matter, and that the whole arrangement was,
likely enough, his handiwork, since--unless I could somehow checkmate
him--he would certainly be the one to profit by the Hetman’s deposal.
Therefore I awaited the discharge of the troops in a frenzy of
impatience, for I knew well that Mazeppa would not waste these precious
days and weeks which destiny compelled me to fritter away in idle
waiting.