The Baron's brow lowered as he resumed--

"And is this, Sir, the bent of your disposition to herd with outcasts,

and the vilest of the earth? A race I detest and abhor; and strong

enough are my reasons. Rather would I have bared my head to the

fiercest storm the heavens ever sent forth, than to have been beholden

to such wretches for a dry crust, or the covering of their miserable

tents."

"The people you speak of, Sir," answered Ivan, "I found as kind and

hospitable in their humble way, as any of a higher rank; and I received

much attention from them."

The Baron here rose from his seat, and took several turns across the

apartment; then suddenly addressing himself to Ivan, exclaimed--

"Talk not to me of receiving kindness at the hands of such ignominious

beings as those cursed Gipsies. I loathe their very name! Is this the

return you render me, degenerate youth, for the care and attention I

have lavished on your infancy and education? Though how could I have

expected ought else? Yet I thought you possessed more proper pride than

to have thus demeaned yourself. Learn, however, henceforth to pay more

respect to my honour and dignity, though you may be careless of your

own; and remember, the name you bear must not, and shall not, be

disgraced by associating with the base and worthless."

Ivan remained mute during this tirade, for he saw that the Baron

required an object to vent his spleen upon, and he willingly offered his

own shoulders, to screen some victim less able to bear it.

The haughty noble had thus worked himself into a state of passionate

excitement, as undignified as it was causeless, and continued pacing the

floor with hasty steps, while the young man stood silently by, waiting

its result, knowing that his withdrawal from the scene would but

increase the Baron's anger.

After the lapse of a few minutes, this fit of rage seemed to have

subsided, as turning towards Ivan, he said--

"Young man, let me never hear again of so discreditable an occurrence.

And now listen to the reasons which induced me to recall you. I have

been appointed by our gracious Emperor to high command in his armies

destined for foreign service; and I intend that you shall accompany me

to learn the art of war by practical experience, as you have hitherto

done in theory. Before you, now opens a path which will lead you to

honour and renown; and it rests with yourself to enter it or not. If

you follow it, and I find you worthy, it then will be my care to advance

you rapidly. But mark me! I demand from you implicit obedience; that

rendered, rank and fortune shall be yours--if not, beware!"

Ivan's heart beat high at this information, though conveyed in harsh and

uncourteous words; but he ardently sought to enter at once into the

exciting scenes of active life, and his eye brightened as he expressed

his readiness to comply with the Baron's wishes, and thanked him for the

solicitude he professed for his welfare.

"My intention," continued the Baron, "is, that you should visit Moscow

in a few days, to procure your military equipments, and to mix somewhat

in society; for though, I myself detest its ceremonies and trivialities,

I wish you to gain the advantages its lessons afford, ere you enter into

the more active and stirring scenes of life. You may now retire to rest

after your journey, and to-morrow, I will impart my other projects."

His listener, having expressed the gratitude he really felt at the

prospects held out to him, gladly retired from the presence of his

capricious father.

The above conversation, so characteristic of the Baron's usual

deportment towards his son, was little calculated to win either his

respect or his love: indeed, his conduct altogether seemed inexplicable;

for while he had spared neither care, nor expense in his education, he

had evidently no affection for him; and had on every occasion tried his

utmost, to imbue him with his own fierce and savage disposition: in the

latter, however, he had signally failed, through an agency he little

suspected. The young man, meanwhile, profited by the great advantages

offered by a good education, and grew up endued with extraordinary

firmness and courage.

Ivan had retired to his chamber for the night, after endeavouring in

vain to obtain some communication with the lady before alluded to, as a

mysterious inmate of the chateau; when, as he was reclining in a chair,

and gazing through the window on the dark groves which surrounded the

building, he was startled by a knock at his door. Hastening to open it,

a person presented himself, of unusual and remarkable appearance.

He was one of those extraordinary productions of nature, possessing a

figure of just proportions, though in stature he was scarcely three feet

high. His dress was arranged with extreme neatness and care, but of a

fantastic cut; and the little man seemed to delight in the most gaudy

colours. His feathered hat was placed with a rakish air on one side of

his head, from which flowed a profusion of curling locks. His whiskers

were also curled with the greatest care, while his long thin moustaches

rose fiercely upward, in imitation of heroes of larger size.

It was difficult to define the expression of his diminutive, but very

regular features, which would have been considered handsome in a larger

mould. Age had spared him not, for already wrinkles furrowed his

cheeks, which were of a shallow, parchment-like hue. His small grey

eyes still bright and twinkling, expressed talent, and cunning; there

was a restlessness too in his look and manner--each movement he made

being quick, but uncertain. He would first cast a hurried glance at the

person he was speaking to; next on the ground, then suddenly over his

shoulder, as if he expected an attack from behind; and presently he

would spin his little body round on one leg, ere he recommenced the

subject he had abruptly discontinued. When he spoke, the tone of his

voice was so shrill and loud, that those who heard it, could scarcely

believe that the sound proceeded from so diminutive a creature.

As this lilliputian-like figure entered the room, he opened his arms to

their full extent to embrace Ivan, who kindly stooped to the requisite

level to meet him, for otherwise the little personage, who seemed

unconscious of his own size, would have been unable to clasp more than

one of his friend's knees.

"My friend, my dear boy!" exclaimed the dwarf, "my heart beats with

pleasure to see you back again. You are grown, Ivan, since I saw you

last, for we could then walk arm in arm; and now, I doubt if we could do

so with perfect ease. I have been longing to have you here again, for I

knew not what to do without you. I could neither ride, hunt, or shoot

with any satisfaction during your absence; but now we will recommence

our former amusements."

"I am truly glad to see you, my worthy friend Ladislau," answered Ivan,

"and to find you as vivacious and active as ever; but there is one I

would inquire after; my kind protectress--my most beloved friend--tell

me, Ladislau, how is she? of no one else have I been able to learn, nor

as you well know, dared I to seek the information, my heart yearned

after, though my thoughts have been filled with sad forebodings."

"My young friend," replied Ladislau, "she is well, and is anxiously

waiting to see you; but the mighty man, the great Baron, has been

treating her more severely than ever, and will not allow her to proceed

beyond the walls of the garden. One of these days his cruelty will meet

with its due reward!"

"Alas!" said Ivan, "that I should not have the power to rescue that

angelic being from his tyranny! She herself forbids me to interfere.

Tell me, my dear Ladislau, when shall I find an opportunity of seeing

her?"

"I cannot now say," answered the dwarf. "I will, however, contrive the

matter for you, whilst the Baron is from home, and the meeting will

contribute greatly to the lady's cure. Ha! ha! ha! I am laughing at

the idea that those, whom the mighty tyrant despises, can so outwit him;

aye, and revenge themselves too, in a way he little dreams of. The day

will come, when he shall learn that the being he has kept to laugh and

jeer at, has a soul with passions strong as his own, and who has known

how to revenge himself for all the injuries and insults heaped on him

for so many years. But away with such thoughts: now that you are

returned, Ivan! pleasure must be our sole study, and I owe you my utmost

services, for you were ever kind and attentive, while others scorned me,

although they laughed at what they termed my antic tricks. I am

grateful, Ivan, and I will prove it; for though I can be a bitter and

implacable hater, I can also be a firm and true friend."

"In your love, I have always trusted, my good Ladislau, though what I

may have done is not worthy of mention; and you amply repay me by your

services, and constant readiness to follow my wishes."

"Well, well, we will not discuss that matter now;" said Ladislau, "but

tell me, Ivan, how came it, that you did not arrive yesterday? I was

looking out for you the whole day!"

Ivan gave him an account of his adventure, in rescuing the Gipsy maid

Azila, and of his visit to the tents of her tribe, to which the dwarf

listened attentively.

"You acted rightly," said he, as Ivan concluded; "and you may some

future day be richly rewarded. Is she not beautiful, and endowed with

talent, and far superior to the life she leads?"

"If you allude to Azila," replied Ivan, "she is both; but how happens

it, that you are acquainted with these Gipsies?"

"Ha! ha! ha!" chuckled the dwarf, "that's a long story, my dear boy, and

I cannot tell it you now, though I may some day. You have much to

learn--many deep secrets--of which my bosom is the depositary; ha! ha!

those who despise me, little know the power I possess! There is one,

who would give half he is worth, to know a secret which is safely locked

up in my breast, and he would not scruple to tear it open, if he knew

that it was there! Ha! ha! ha!" and the dwarf laughed shrilly, as he

triumphed in this consciousness of his own power, and of the revenge he

was taking on those by whom he considered himself injured.

"Now to you, Ivan," he continued, "who indulge in no idle curiosity, and

treat me so kindly, I will some day, when the fit moment arrives,

disclose the treasured secret."

"You are one of the first of the few persons I remember ever since my

childhood," answered Ivan, "and I act towards you as I feel--with

sincere regard. But tell me, Ladislau, what is there remarkable, or

unusual, with respect to the Gipsy's daughter, besides her beauty, which

I can judge of, and her talents which I suppose do not extend beyond her

sweet singing, and a clever tact in turning her pretended knowledge of

palmistry to account."

"Ah, you little see into her character, if you imagine that she

practises any of the vulgar deceits of her tribe," answered the dwarf.

"She is above every act of that kind. Her heart is with her people, and

she delights in their wild life; yet she might, if it so pleased her,

dwell in cities, and enjoy all the luxuries others value so highly. Her

education has not been neglected, while her talents are of the highest

order, her judgment superior, and her virtue unquestionable; these high

endowments she employs for her noble ends. She might have been far

different from what she is--enjoying rank, riches and power; but then

too probably, alas! she might have been proud, vicious and ignorant. I

love her much, but would not have her different to what she is, though

on some future day, it may be said that I have injured her; but I know

better. I am saying, perhaps, more than is prudent; I can, however,

trust you, Ivan, and I beseech you, utter not a syllable of what you

have heard, as you love me."

"Your confidence shall not be abused," answered Ivan.

"Fare thee well, fare thee well! I must now away, my young friend;"

quickly cried the little man, as whisking round on one foot, waving his

hand, and singing his adieus, he skipped out of the room.

As long back as Ivan could recollect, he had always been on terms of

perfect friendship with the dwarf Ladislau; but never since his earliest

infancy had he observed the slightest alteration in his appearance. At

that early age, he used to romp and play with him; and as he grew older

and stronger, with a consideration which few boys would have possessed,

he never exerted his power and strength to his annoyance, so that the

diminutive creature cherished a feeling of attachment for him, stronger

than for any other human being; while Ivan, having but few to expend his

affections upon, returned his regard with equal sincerity.

It is still the custom in many of the wealthy and noble families, both

of Russia and Poland, to retain in their establishments, one of the race

of dwarfs, to amuse their children and dependants, and as a butt for

their own wit. As in former days, a jester, a fool, or a dwarf was

considered a necessary appendage to the household of every noble

throughout Europe, though that custom is now fortunately banished to the

less civilised countries of the eastern part of the continent, where

education has made but slow advances.

As soon as the dwarf had retired, Ivan threw himself on his couch; but

it was long, ere the repose he sought, drew a veil over his confused and

agitated thoughts.

Volume 1, Chapter VII.

Ivan had obtained but few and brief opportunities of meeting the lady

who resided at the chateau, and whose history was so totally unknown to

the world. The Baron constantly required his attendance, and narrowly

watched her actions.

Some days had elapsed since Ivan's arrival, during which time he had

invariably accompanied the Baron in his hunting expeditions, the latter

having determined to clear his forests of the wolves which infested

them. On the next of these expeditions, he determined to find some

expedient for absenting himself, so as to be able to obtain the

long-sought interview with his mysterious friend.

Accordingly, whilst the followers were beating about for the lurking

plunderers, and the woods echoed with their loud shouts, he feigned an

excuse, and galloped back to the chateau, trusting that his brief

absence would be overlooked. In the mean time, the dwarf, who had not

been summoned to the chase by his lord, had willingly remained at home,

and prepared every means to facilitate the meeting. The young man, with

anxious haste, repaired to the appointed spot, where, beneath a bower

covered with luxuriant dark foliage, and shaded by a group of venerable

trees, he beheld the loved object of his search.

The lady had scarcely reached the meridian of life, still retaining

every feature of matronly beauty. Her figure was tall; its every

movement graceful; her face cast in the true Grecian mould, with a pure

and translucent complexion; the long dark silken eyelash shading a clear

grey eye, and giving a subdued softness of expression to her

countenance. A casual observer on viewing the two persons, side by

side, would have discovered a striking resemblance between them.

Her watchful ear caught the sound of his footstep, and rising, she

rushed forward to meet him, folding him in a momentary embrace, as he

endeavoured reverently to kiss her hand. A convulsive sob impeded her

utterance as she attempted to speak; but her fast-falling tears, which

bedewed his neck, expressed the fulness of her love. That agitating

moment over, her composure returned; and retiring to a seat, Ivan placed

himself by her side, his hand being fondly locked in hers.

"Loved one," she said, "is it thus alone we can meet, by stealth, and

but for a brief space, after so long an absence, and when, too, you may

be torn from me for ever? Oh, Ivan! much have I suffered for your sake,

and gladly would I suffer more; yet a woman's weakness overpowers me,

when I think of the dangers you may be exposed to. He has told me that

you are about to accompany him on a distant military expedition wherein

you may gain honour and renown, such as I know your noble heart will

rejoice in; but dreadful forebodings haunt my mind, for I feel it will

be full of peril; and I cannot trust him. I seek to discover the plans

he is meditating for you, but they are beyond my comprehension. Whether

affection, or any other motive influences him, I know not; yet though he

promises to advance you rapidly, I doubt the sincerity of his words.

But oh! Ivan, I am powerless, and commit you to the charge of the God

of your fathers."

"For your sake," exclaimed the young man, "I would resign all my fond

aspirations, and would gladly remain to protect you; but, alas! as a

slave I must obey the Baron's will, or seek my own fortune in the world

without his aid."

"Well do I know your love, my brave youth," replied the lady, "which

would hazard all for my welfare; but that I ask not. No! go where glory

and fame await you, and care not for me, for I feel that my course of

life is well nigh run, and that the day of my freedom is at hand. Much

more of anguish than you, Ivan, can possibly know, has my bosom borne;

but the hour is not yet come when I may recount to you the tale of my

woes."

"To what secret woes do your words allude?" exclaimed Ivan, in

agitation. "Oh, my more than mother! my protectress! my guardian angel!

am I then incapable of protecting you, or at least of comforting you?

Oh despise me not by concealing your sufferings from me!"

"Alas! your interference," said the lady, despondingly, "would be of

little avail; it might bring ruin on yourself, without improving my lot.

No, no, loved one! I would not blight your happiness with my sorrow.

You are on the eve of visiting Moscow; when there, mix in the world;

seek all the enjoyment it can afford, though I fear me there is but

little to be found. Yet I too was once blest with perfect happiness.

You will return here, I learn, before you depart for the army, when I

will relate all; till then, may your young heart be unseared by grief."

"Oh! disclose your griefs to me now, dearest lady. Let me endeavour to

console them; and let my devotion in your service prove my love. Surely

the Baron, though severe and unjust at times to me, cannot--dare not, be

so barbarous as to injure one so lovely and gentle as yourself."

"I may not at present reveal to you my sad history," replied the lady;

"prudence demands that the veil should not yet be withdrawn. You know

not what the Baron is. Time will display his nature."

The lady and the youth were still indulging in their melancholy, yet

interesting conversation, when they were suddenly interrupted by the

appearance of Ladislau, looking like some woodland sprite, as, with

alarm on his countenance, he rushed up to them through the mass of the

shrubbery.

"Hist! hist!" he cried, but in a suppressed voice; "fly, Ivan, fly! off

with you--begone! this is no place for you! Madam, pardon my intrusion.

Fly, Ivan, fly! The Baron has returned; this moment I heard the tramp

of his horse's hoofs in the court-yard, and his voice raised in anger;

so I hastened to warn you. He stormed and raged as usual. Yes, his

high mightiness was storming like a tornado."

The dwarf laughed in a shrill tone, and added, "He will undoubtedly come

this way; and it would not calm his anger to find his son here instead

of accompanying him in the chase of animals, less savage than himself.

So fly, my friend, fly from hence; tarry not another moment. And I

would recommend you too, Madam, to avoid him at present, if you wish not

to bear the brunt of his fury, which has been excited by Ivan's

absence."

Ivan respectfully raised the lady's hand to his lips, and was bidding

her farewell, when the dwarf exclaimed, "Haste, haste, or you will be

discovered--see, here he comes;" and at that instant, the Baron was seen

at a short distance, walking rapidly towards them. Ivan quickly

retreated by an opposite path, fortunately unperceived by his father,

while the Baron advanced towards the lady and dwarf, with a dark frown

on his brow.

"So, ho, Madam," he cried; "is it thus you abide by my injunctions not

to move beyond your apartment? Be pleased forthwith to retire to your

chamber, until I repair thither; I shall know how to correct this

disobedience to my commands. Make no answer! go, Madam, at once!"

The lady spoke not, though her lip trembled with emotion, and there was

a flush on her brow, as she turned to obey the Baron's command, and

walked calmly towards the chateau.

"And you, imp! what business of state brought you to the lady?" said the

Baron, turning to the dwarf. "Doubtless, you have been laying some

mischievous plans together. Have you lately seen Ivan, sir manikin?"

"Yes, most noble and potent Seigneur," answered Ladislau; "I met him

some time since, walking in solitary and meditative mood. I ventured

not to interrupt the current of his thoughts. Can I be the bearer of

any of your most gracious orders to him?"

"Yes, go find him, and say I desire his attendance," said the Baron.

"No, stay--I myself will seek him. In which direction went he, do you

say?"

"In yonder avenue," replied the dwarf, pointing to an opposite spot to

the one he believed the youth was to be found in.

As the Baron walked quickly forward, he muttered to himself, "Can it be

that she, whose stubborn soul would never bend to my will, should be

captivated by this youth! By heavens! if I so find it, I will tear her

limb from limb, and let the boy feast his eyes on the spectacle. Had

the idea occurred to me before, he never should have returned here. He

is capable of any deed; there is a bold, unruly spirit within him, which

I must curb with a tight rein, or he will break loose even from me. He

to be my rival, forsooth! here comes the audacious youth. By heavens!

he has a right noble air, which may well win any woman's love. I would

destroy him at once, to prevent any further mischief; but then I lose

the cherished object for which I nurtured him--no, no, that were worse

than folly. He shall live to become the fierce soldier I would make

him, and when he gains more of the spirit of the tiger, which he now

somewhat lacks, I shall be content. He comes of a race, whose blood is

strongly imbued with it, and in his it must exist also."

By the time the Baron had arrived at the conclusion of this soliloquy,

which vaguely hinted at his sinister schemes, his anger had been

tempered, partly by the ideas of future triumph it awakened, partly by

the cool perfumed breeze, which played within the shady walk. He had

been unsuccessful that morning in the chase, which had raised his

choler; and when he missed Ivan from his side, and ascertained on

inquiry, that he had been seen riding in the direction of the chateau,

his rage was greatly increased. On his return, he learned that his son

had proceeded into the grounds, whither the lady had shortly before also

been observed to go.

"I perceive, Sir," he said on confronting his son, "that you prefer

luxurious ease in shady bowers, to the hardy and noble exercise of

hunting, in disobedience moreover to my wishes; but let me tell you,

young man, such is but a bad promise of your future conduct in a

military career; and you need not expect my countenance or support,

during the continuance of such frivolities, and opposition to my will.

I expect henceforth to find you foremost in danger, and ever prompt to

endure hardships without murmur. Thus it was that I fought my way up

the ladder of fame, and thus must you follow, if you desire advancement,

and value a high name."

"I trust, Sir, you will never find me remiss in my military duties,"

answered Ivan.

"I have found you already deficient in its most essential branch;"

angrily rejoined the Baron, then assuming a calmer tone, he added "you

had some motive, and not a trifling one, which induced you to act

contrary to my will this day; ah, you start! Beware, young man, should

my suspicions prove correct, your fate is sealed! Again, I say, beware!

My nature is such as will not be trifled with; prepare for your

departure to-morrow for Moscow; that is a favour I grant you; so answer

me not; you now know my will."

Accustomed as he was to the authoritative tone of one who, in his

mildest mood, never brooked a reply, Ivan's lips moved with emotion, yet

they uttered no sound, as the Baron turned away, and walked towards the

mansion.

The dark hints which his father had let fall fixed Ivan to the spot in

deep meditation; yet he could not settle in his mind to what they could

allude, dismissing at once, as too preposterous, the real cause.

Finally he came to the resolution of implicitly following his orders,

though he would fain have tarried a few days longer in the chateau, to

hold further intercourse with his sorrowful protectress. Then retiring

to his chamber, to make the requisite preparations, he was soon joined

by the dwarf.

As soon as he was informed of his friend's banishment, tears fell from

the little man's eyes.

"Oh, Ivan," he exclaimed, "my friend, my brother, my son--for you are

each and all to me--I have experienced many cruel trials; but to part

with you is severer than all combined. We may never meet again, for I

fear the Baron will not allow you to return here; and I am growing so

weary of this cruel world, that I expect not to remain much longer an

inhabitant of it. Ivan, my dear boy, forget not Ladislau, for be

assured his first and last daily thought will be of you."

Ivan succeeded in soothing his little friend's grief, by sincere

assurances of his remembrance. He then requested him to take his

earnest farewell to the lady, as he could not hope to see her again

before his departure, promising that, at every risk, he would return ere

he joined the army, while during the interval, he would regularly inform

Ladislau of his proceedings.

After quitting his son in the grounds which encompassed the mansion, the

Baron repaired forthwith to the chamber of the lady, who received him

with a proud and dignified air, before which even he for a moment paused

abashed.

"Your time, Madam, I have discovered, is not always passed in the dismal

solitude of which you so repeatedly complain. Hear me! you would seduce

the affections of my son! Ha. Madam, is it so? You turn pale and

tremble! This moment I parted from the youth; and as I taxed him with

my suspicions, his look of conscious guilt revealed the truth. He had

not a word to urge in his own defence. Do you answer for him? Am I not

correct? Speak, woman!"

The lady stood for a while in mute astonishment at the accusations so

suddenly and violently brought against her. At length she uttered, in a

voice, choking with emotion:

"Be Heaven my witness that I speak the truth, when I declare that I am

guiltless of the crime you charge me with."

"Deceitful woman, thou liest!" cried the Baron, giving vent to a burst

of uncontrollable anger; he gnashed his teeth, while his eyes rolled

wildly; he lifted his arm, and struck the defenceless female. She

uttered no cry; but every drop of blood quitted her cheek, and she would

have fallen to the floor, had not the wall supported her. Rivetting her

eye on her oppressor, and mustering all her energy, she proudly

confronted him in scorn and contempt, branding him with the epithet of

coward. The ruffian, in his turn, trembled, and quailed before the

superior might--the majesty of a lovely woman, conscious of her

unsullied virtue. He felt himself to be the despicable being she termed

him; his honour had been for ever disgraced by this foul indelible

stain. He felt that his name was for ever blotted from the rolls of

chivalry; that every slave who crawled in chains on his land would be

deemed more worthy to touch a lady's hand than he.

The haughty lord answered not: his tongue was tied--he was conquered.

Without even daring to meet her glance of scorn, he turned away, and

quitted the apartment. When left in solitude, the lady sunk on a couch,

and pressed her brow within her hands.

"For what fate am I reserved?" she cried. "To perish by the hand of

this dastard tyrant! No more to revisit my own sunny hills and smiling

vales. Yet, for the sake of that loved one, I can and will bear all.

Could I but feel assured of his happiness, I would yield to death

contentedly. There is, however, one duty more due to him--then welcome

death!"

Volume 1, Chapter VIII.

Ivan was fully equipped for his journey to Moscow, in pursuance of his

father's orders, when he received a summons to attend him.

"I have desired your presence," said the Baron, as he entered, "to

communicate my last orders. I will allow you an ample sum for your

expenses, and a sojourn of six weeks in Moscow. Dedicate that period to

amusement; at its expiration you will be attached to my staff; meanwhile

have your uniforms prepared. You may now depart."

The young man withdrew, his parting salutation being scarcely noticed.

He was met in the court-yard by his friend the dwarf, who shed tears as

Ivan mounted his horse; while he himself felt sad in parting from one of

the few friends he possessed in the world. He took a last look at the

apartment occupied by the lady so deeply beloved by him. All was closed

and mournful there. Then spurring his horse, he rode rapidly from the

chateau.

A lively and bustling scene met his view as he entered Moscow. It was a

day dedicated to one of the numerous saints in the calendar of the Greek

church, and a holiday; so that all the world was abroad, taking

recreation during their brief but beautiful spring.

The sumptuous equipages of the nobles were dashing by, with their four

spirited horses, harnessed in long traces, and guided by a tiny

postillion, while a portly, liveried coachman was seated more for state

than service, on the richly ornamented coach-box. Officers, in various

uniforms, and followed by wild and fierce-looking Calmuc Tartars,

galloped in every direction. Countless were the gay vehicles in motion;

conspicuous amongst these, was the light-formed drosky, drawn by a pair

of horses, the animal in the shafts advancing at a finely paced trot,

while his companion, now prancing and curvetting, now sidling in

graceful bounds, attracted the spectators' admiring gaze. Costly were

the dresses, and glittering the stars with which the proud nobles were

arrayed, as they rode or drove past in rapid succession, offering a

marked contrast to the humble and bearded citizens assembled on the

occasion. Every human being, whatever his garb or condition, seemed

happy; and the young visitor unconsciously caught the same feeling.

Having given his friend Thaddeus notice of his intended coming, he was

not surprised, though much pleased, to be welcomed by him on dismounting

at his hotel.

"Most grave hermit," exclaimed his friend, "happy am I to find that you

have been enticed away from your contemplations amid groves and lakes,

and I trust soon to initiate your philosophy in the mysteries of a city

existence."

"Thanks, my good Thaddeus, I have determined upon seeing what you term

the world and its amusements, and resign myself entirely to your sage

guidance."

It is unnecessary to follow the two friends through all the scenes of

gaiety, into which they plunged with the ardour of youth; it is

sufficient to say, that Ivan, in spite of his retiring disposition, soon

found himself much sought after, among the highest circles of rank and

tone in Moscow, formed as he was both in person, and mind to adorn

society. He could not but feel gratified by the attentions he received,

and amused by the various scenes of gaiety in which he moved; so that

sombre reflections had no opportunity to creep in, and mar his pleasure.

Many days had thus flown quickly by, without a single interruption to

their light and joyous course; even the adventure with the Gipsies, on

their journey from St. Petersburg, was forgotten; when one evening, at

an entertainment given by the Prince Galitzin, they were startled on

hearing announced the name of the Count Erintoff.

Shortly after, they saw him advancing with an acquaintance of theirs, in

the direction where they were standing, apparently without his

recognising them, and he would have passed by, had not Ivan's eye been

fixed sternly upon him. A sudden start accompanied by a frown marked

the recognition, when his companion turning round, and observing the two

young men, stopped to present him to them. With a bland smile he

advanced, and politely saluting them, began, without hesitation, a light

and diverting conversation on the common topics of the day. His address

was so unembarrassed, and his manner so cordial towards them, that they

became doubtful whether he actually remembered them as his former

opponents; a slight incident, however, took place later in the evening,

which made them again feel certain, that he knew them. Ivan had

engaged, as a partner in the dance, a beautiful girl, to whom the Count

had been paying marked attention; and he was standing near to her, when

Ivan advanced to claim her hand, which she offered with a smile.

The eyes of the Count turned upon him with a peculiarly dark and ominous

expression, indicating his feelings of animosity more fully and directly

than any words, that he could venture to utter in such an assembly; ere

Ivan had time to scrutinise that glance, the Count's features had

resumed their wonted bland expression; and he had turned with some witty

repartee to the nearest lady.

"No matter," thought Ivan, "if he does recognise me, I may yet laugh at,

and despise his vengeance."

On quitting the palace with Thaddeus, they fancied that their steps were

dogged by some one, who appeared to be watching the course they took;

but whoever it might be, he kept at so wary a distance, that they could

not devise a plausible excuse for addressing him; and ere they had

reached their hotel, the individual had disappeared.

The following day was also a festival of the church, and again were the

promenades and public drives swarming with old and young; the gay noble,

and sober tradesman.

Thaddeus engaged Ivan to accompany him in his drosky, to the favourite

promenade of the citizens, called "L'Allee des Peuples," which is

without the city barrier; and were the shopkeepers and inferior classes

of society assemble to enjoy their favourite pastimes. On their way

they observed in the distance the state prisons, where the unfortunate

exiles are confined, previously to their departure for Siberia;

collected together from all parts of the Empire, in gloomy despondency,

they there await the day, which always falls on Monday, when it shall be

their turn to set forth in a troop on their toilsome and dreary journey.

"Ah," thought Ivan, as he gazed on the long, low, but strongly guarded

walls, "how many an innocent victim has there parted from all the sweet,

and fond ties of life, to march bare-footed, and in chains over hundreds

of long leagues, weak and bleeding; his companions dying by his side,

day after day, as lying down to rest, they find an everlasting repose,

happier than the survivors left to eke out, with hopeless toil, a

miserable existence, in an inhospitable clime."

It must, however be observed, that though the fate of most of the exiles

is forlorn and miserable in the extreme; others of higher rank, and

banished for slight political offences, are allowed comparative freedom,

on their arrival at their place of destination. Many reside in cities

with their families, surrounded with most of the luxuries of Europe,

though under the surveillance of the police. Yet what can compensate

for a banishment from their native land without the remotest hope or

power of returning thither?

The promenade of the people of which we have spoken, is a wide tract,

ornamented with noble trees, and furnished with all the means necessary

to promote the national amusements of the Russians. Thither had

resorted the easily pleased citizens to amuse themselves, to the utmost,

after their busy occupations. Surrounded by their families and friends,

seated on the turf, they were enjoying their tea, which was served out

of large urns, placed before them on the ground; the joke and the

refreshments passing merrily round. Here, a large concourse of idlers

formed a circle round a party of mountebanks and jugglers; each feat of

dexterity receiving loud applause: there, a troop of Gipsy girls gained

equal admiration, as, in the mazy figures of the dance, they exhibited

their picturesque and graceful movements.

It mostly happens that those of a higher station do not deign to become

spectators of these scenes, and restrict themselves to their own

promenades; yet, there were a few whose curiosity, like of that our two

friends, had led them to this spot.

Thaddeus was conversing with an acquaintance whom he accidentally met,

while Ivan, standing a few paces from them, observed the approach of a

band of dancing girls, and, among them, he recognised a face he could

not easily forget, though the person was evidently not taking a part in

the exhibition. He could not be deceived in Azila, the Gipsy maiden.

She passed close to him, and a slight momentary blush tinged her cheek,

as beckoning to him, she separated from her companions. He followed

her, until she stopped beneath a thick cluster of trees, which screened

them from observation.

"I fear you will think me bold, and forward in thus addressing you,"

said she, "but I have urgent reasons for so doing. This day, I purposed

seeking you out in another part of the city; when, having joined the

band of dancers, with a view of meeting those whom I sought, without

suspicion, I saw you enter the gardens. Think not," and she blushed

deeply; "that I would exhibit myself to the gaze of the miserable slaves

assembled to witness the performances of my companions. You will

shortly understand more clearly the reasons which induce me to appear

among them; till then, judge not ill of me--but to my errand, for time

presses. Danger threatens under many shapes; and one whom you know, the

Count Erintoff, has sworn to revenge himself on you, for your generous

defence of me. He seeks your life, and that of your friend; and though

he is too great a coward to hazard his own, he may employ others to do

his bidding. Be therefore constantly on your guard, yet without fear,

for there are those who feel an earnest interest in your welfare, who

will watch over your safety, and have marked each movement of yours,

since you arrived in Moscow."

"I thank you, fair one, for your warning," answered Ivan; "but I fear

not the Count, or any plans he may form against me or my friend."

"You know not," hastily rejoined Azila; "what means a man of his

vindictive, and dastard disposition would stoop to, for the

accomplishment of a vile purpose; and I entreat you to beware of him--

but I have more to say. You are destined for nobler deeds than the life

you now lead affords, where you are dissipating your time and talents in

pursuits totally unworthy of you. My boldness of speech may surprise

you, and appear unmaidenly; but I know that I may trust you in what I am

about to impart. A great revolution in the affairs of this country is

about to take place; yet you--so fit to lead your countrymen, and to aid

in their regeneration, are ignorant of the project. Sure I am, that

were you once summoned to join in the noble work, you would stake all on

the glorious enterprise. One, on whom you may rely, will shortly

communicate with you on the subject; oh! do not hesitate to follow his

advice. The day of the regeneration of Russia is at hand! Thus much--

but more I may not disclose; but think deeply on my words;--see, some

one draws near, farewell for a time!"

Ere Ivan had time to make any answer to this extraordinary

communication, the speaker had escaped, and following her with his eye,

he traced her, until she rejoined the party of dancing girls, who

shortly moved away from the spot.

On returning in search of Thaddeus, he pondered on what he had just

heard. "Extraordinary being that she is," thought he; "what secret

motive can so deeply interest her in my actions, and how can she become

acquainted with plots and conspiracies of such deep import?"

At first, he hesitated to mention the occurrence to his friend; but, on

their return to the hotel, when he was rallied on account of his silent

and meditative mood, he informed him of the warning he had received.

Thaddeus laughed loud, as he expressed his opinion; "Truly, indeed, this

is an excellent excuse which the pretty Gipsy has discovered for

renewing her acquaintance with you; why, Ivan, I see through it all.

She has fallen desperately in love with you, and would have told you so,

had you given her the slightest encouragement, and the time been more

opportune."

Ivan indignantly repelled the idea. "No, no!" he said, "her manner was

too earnest--too respectful to bespeak any such inclination. She

naturally feels gratitude for our aid in rescuing her from the power of

that smiling faced ruffian, the Count Erintoff, and, in return, has

warned us of the revenge he meditates for our interference, and which

she has, by some means, discovered. With regard to the more important

part of her disclosure, I confide in you with an equal trust to that she

has reposed in me. I gather from her words that a plot is being laid to

overthrow the whole mighty fabric of this despotic government, which now

appears to stand on so immoveable a foundation."

A laugh again burst from his friend, who replied, "Your vivid

imagination, my dear Ivan, carries you beyond the limits of probability;

though I sincerely wish it were so; but I rather think that the pretty

messenger's sole view, was to excite your curiosity, in order to gain

another interview."

"Time will shew, Thaddeus," replied the other, "I differ entirely from

you, and, until then, I will not give up the opinion I have formed of

Azila."

Immediately on quitting the public promenade of the citizens, and

previously to their return to the hotel, Thaddeus drove to a far distant

scene. The aristocratic promenade of Pedroski leads through a

magnificent forest; the grounds encompassing the venerable chateau are

laid out with perfect taste, and are ornamented with every variety of

tree and shrub. Here they were among the votaries of rank and fashion;

the elite of Moscow; vying with each other in the magnificence and style

of their equipages. Elegantly dressed ladies, reclined in their

carriages, and proud seigneurs covered with decorations, and followed by

their attendants, galloped by with erect and haughty mien. Dashing

young officers, in their brilliant uniforms, were displaying themselves

and their mettled steeds to their own satisfaction--if not to that of

others.

Whilst they were in earnest conversation, on the subject of Azila's

warning, a messenger arrived to summon Thaddeus home, on account of the

illness of his father. He accordingly departed, leaving Ivan again

alone. Left to his own thoughts, a heavy weight oppressed his spirits,

for his mind dwelt forcibly on the mysterious import of Azila's words.

At one moment, his calm reason warned him not to listen to the seductive

arguments that might be used to induce him to join in an attempt, which

would too probably lead to the utter destruction of all engaged in it;

and, then again, his enthusiasm would be aroused, and he confessed the

enterprise was well worthy of a severe struggle.

He was alone in the hotel on the following day, when a noble of some

consideration, whom he had frequently met in society, was announced.

The visitor, as soon as the servant had retired, looked cautiously round

the room, and approaching the door, secured it. "I would be private,"

he whispered, "and free from any chance of interruption, for I have a

communication of deep importance to make:--are we safe from

eaves-droppers?"

"I believe so," answered Ivan, wondering to what grave matter such

cautious preliminaries would lead.

"Can I trust to the most inviolable secrecy in what I am about to say?"

inquired the stranger guest; "but why do I ask, for I am satisfied that

I may."

"Undoubtedly you may, Sir," proudly replied Ivan, "in anything not

opposed to my honour."

"Far from it," hastily rejoined the other. "Think not for a moment that

I would propose aught that would reflect disgrace on your name. I

pledge you my own word of honour; that all I require, in return for my

disclosure, is inviolable secrecy on your part; any step farther I leave

to your own judgment."

"Speak on," answered Ivan, "whatever you may reveal, shall never pass my

lips."

"My confidence is fully confirmed," replied the guest, "or I should not

have visited you. You were last evening in the `Allee des Peuples' with

your friend, Stanisloff; you were there accosted by a Gipsy girl, whom

you had previously known; she beckoned to you, and you followed her.

You recollect the words she uttered--`The day of the regeneration of

Russia is at hand.' Nay, start not, no one overheard you: she was but

performing a commission for others of power and of influence--a task she

gladly undertook. You have been marked by them as one fit to assist in

the noble cause in which they are engaged. Azila, the Gipsy girl, is

one of the chief means of communication with our friends in all parts of

the country; she has guaranteed your honour and fidelity."

"What aid can I afford to the cause of freedom?" inquired Ivan, "when I

am myself utterly powerless; opposed as you must know the Baron

Galetzoff to be to any measures calculated to give liberty to the

people."

"We well know that the son has far different opinions to those

entertained by his father; we are also well aware that the Baron is a

staunch upholder of despotism; but, need I ask--is it incumbent on the

son to adhere to the despotic principles of his parent? No!--I feel

confident that you at least, will not."

The stranger, as he spoke, had intently watched Ivan's countenance, and

appearing to gather confidence, continued--

"That you will ultimately join us, I anticipate with satisfaction;

meanwhile, however, come and hear our plans. These I dare not utter

within these walls, for even they may have ears and a voice to carry the

tale; but, would you know more, I will conduct you where all will be

disclosed. Will you accompany me?"

"I must deeply consider the matter, ere I answer you; but tell me," said

Ivan, "where I can meet you, should I consent."

"On the banks of the Moskowa, beneath the walls of the Kremlin, is a

secluded walk, which is entered from the public gardens--you doubtless

know it; there we may escape observation; our converse secure from the

lurking spy. At dusk this evening--may I reckon upon your coming?"

A few minutes succeeded, during which Ivan appeared wrapped in thought.

At length, he answered firmly--

"I will meet you at the spot and hour you name, and, though I do not

engage to enter into your views, I swear that your confidence in me

shall not be abused."

His visitor smiled, and replied: "With you, fear has doubtless little

influence; but there are some who require that motive for secrecy; and

imagine not that a thought of treachery can be harboured, without

drawing down instant retribution. At dusk we meet again, adieu!"

Ivan ushered the stranger to the door, the latter, passing out into the

street, assumed the easy and careless air of the numerous loungers

thronging around him.

How little can the passenger through the crowded streets tell of the

varied thoughts, feelings, and passions, which fill the breasts of those

who encounter him! The grief and agony; despair and hatred; the

avarice, love, or beneficence, the joy, or careless indifference of the

wayfarers; the man whose dearest tie has been torn from him; the ruined

gamester; the assassin, advancing to his work of blood, the miser to his

hoards; the father to his offspring; the lover to his mistress; the

Samaritan, hastening to relieve the distressed; the long-absent

traveller, to his home; the fop, the fool, or the wise man; every

character is passed in succession each instant, unheeded and unknown.

Volume 1, Chapter IX.

Ivan, once having resolved to follow the guidance of his new friend,

looked forward with eagerness to the approach of evening; and, ere the

time had arrived, throwing his cloak about him, he sauntered forth in

the direction of the Kremlin.

This venerable pile, regarded by the inhabitants of Moscow as the

heart--the sacred place--the tabernacle, as it were, of their city, was

anciently a fortress of the rude and fierce Tartars; and indeed, at that

period, the whole of the city was contained within its walls. It stands

on a commanding site by the banks of the Moskwa, whose waters wash its

base, surrounded by high and ancient walls of a triangular form, nearly

two miles in extent. Its area encloses numerous cathedrals, gorgeous

palaces, churches and monasteries; surmounted by towers, belfries, and

steeples; displaying every variety of architecture, including the

Tartar, Hindoo, Chinese, and Gothic. Above all this vast pile rises the

lofty tower of Ivan Veliki, its golden ball now reflecting the rays of

the setting sun with dazzling brilliancy; the whole forming a strange

mixture of barbaric splendour, blended with the stately elegance of

modern times.

There are no regular streets within the Kremlin, the buildings being

raised around several open places or squares, to which the inhabitants

resort for walking or driving.

The walls, which are surmounted by battlements and watch-towers, have

five gates, the principal of which is the "Saviour's" or "Holy Gate."

Through this awe-commanding portal no male, not even the Czar and

Autocrat of all the Russias, may pass, save with uncovered head and

bended body.

Through this gate, Ivan now proceeded bareheaded, and entered a noble

esplanade, commanding one of the most interesting views of Moscow,

having in front the range of the palaces of the Czars, with their varied

and fanciful style of architecture. He paced its extent for some time,

meditating on the important affairs which he was likely to be suddenly,

and as he could not but admit to himself, rashly engaged in.

As the shades of evening began to close around him, he left the Kremlin

by one of the less remarkable gates, and sought the appointed place of

rendezvous.

After traversing the walk several times, he began to suspect that he

must have mistaken the time and place, as no one appeared; or that his

new friend had been prevented from keeping the appointment by some

unforeseen circumstance. He accordingly determined to return to the

hotel, when suddenly, as if springing from the earth, a dark figure

stood before him, so closely muffled as to baffle recognition. Ivan

recoiled a few paces, so unexpectedly did the figure come upon him; and,

as his mind recurred to Azila's warnings respecting the secret revenge

of the Count Erintoff, the idea of treachery presented itself, and his

hand clutched the pistols concealed within his breast. Thus prepared,

he confronted the stranger, friend or foe as he might prove to be.

"Why come you here?" demanded the figure, in a voice unknown to Ivan's

ear.

"In search of him who appointed a meeting with me here," answered the

young man. "Know you aught of him?"

"Behold him before you," said the visitor of the morning, stepping

forward, and speaking in a tone which the other immediately knew.

"It is well," replied Ivan. "Your feigned voice at first deceived me.

But how came you so suddenly upon me?"

"All, you were taken unawares," said the other. "You then did not

observe my skiff, as I guided it noiselessly under the bank, and landed

when you had turned the other way while I closely watched you. It

behoves all of us, in these times, who seek success in bold enterprises,

to be wary in our movements. But we have no time to lose; and now to

the matter on which we have met."

"Speak on," said Ivan. "I am prepared to hear, and shall not forget my

promise."

"Listen then," said the other. "Ivan Galetzoff, you are far better

known than you are aware of. Since you came to Moscow you have been

constantly followed, and your words marked. Many, of whom you are

totally ignorant, know you, and admire your principles; and further,

have selected you as fit to engage in noble and daring deeds."

"You surprise me!" exclaimed Ivan, yielding to flattery, so difficult

for youth to resist when administered to the very points on which he

probably prides himself; "I did not deem myself of sufficient importance

to have notice taken of my words and actions."

"I speak but the truth respecting you," answered his companion. "Say,

do you not abhor despotism and tyranny? Do you not cherish the love of

freedom, and the happiness of your fellow-creatures?"

"I both detest tyranny and love freedom," answered Ivan; "but what

service can my single arm afford, either to overthrow the one, or to

defend the other?"

"Much," hastily responded the stranger. "You do not stand alone. Your

principles are supported by thousands of spirits, noble as your own.

The sacred cause of liberty must, and will be triumphant over all her

base opponents."

"I fear that our chains are too securely rivetted, to be wrenched

asunder," answered Ivan, "and too many are interested in forging fresh

links to leave us hope of freeing ourselves, even at the sacrifice of

our heart's blood."

"You labour under a false impression, my young friend," answered his

companion; "for all classes join heart and soul in this glorious work.

Indeed, the Despot has no greater enemies than many among the highest in

the land, who feel their chains more galling than do the humble serfs;

again I ask you, do you not wish success to their gallant spirits

engaged in the noble attempt?"

"Most earnestly do I hope they may succeed," said Ivan.

"Enough," answered the conspirator, for such he declared himself, "I

need test you no more; for I place implicit confidence in you. This

evening, the advocates of Russian Liberty hold a meeting, and, as I

anticipate that ere long you will join them with heart and hand, I will

introduce you to them."

"Lead--and I will follow," replied Ivan, with enthusiasm; "my heart

yearns to join any who advocate so noble a cause, and I trust I may not

prove unworthy of it."

"No time must then be lost; e'en now they are assembled," rejoined his

companion, "their place of council is at some distance, and speak not,

till I give the word, for we shall be obliged to pass the police

patrols, ever watchful and vigilant."

"Forward then," said Ivan, "and rely on my prudence."

The conspirator stealthily led the way down a path to the margin of the

river, where they found a small skiff, capable of containing three

persons--a rower resting on his oars being already seated, who, on a

signal from the former, pulled rapidly down the stream. Continuing

their course in silence for some time, the oarsman abruptly ceased

rowing, and the little bark glided swiftly into a dark and narrow creek

on the opposite bank of the river. Ivan followed his guide on shore,

while the boat held her course again down the narrow stream.

As they advanced, lights were visible in the apartments of many handsome

buildings, and Ivan found himself in a respectable part of the city,

though one in which many vestiges still remained of the devastating

conflagration which had reduced Moscow to ashes. His guide threaded in

his way many lanes, and traversed wide streets, till suddenly retreating

to the back of a handsome mansion, that had lately been raised from the

ruins which surrounded it, he gave a low and peculiar knock at a wicket

gate, opening apparently into a garden. The signal on being twice

repeated, was answered by a decrepit old man, with a long beard and

tattered dress, who unclosed the gate, but instantly relocked it, as the

two visitors entered.

"Who is it," said he, "seeking to disturb the old serf Kersoff at this

late hour?--If any wish to buy his garden produce, let them come by

daylight, and not rouse him from his bed."

The guide whispered a word in the old man's ear, and he retired to his

hut by the side of the gate.

The light afforded by the starry heavens enabled Ivan to distinguish the

appearance of the place where he stood, which seemed to have been a

large garden, now filled with ruins; apparently the remains of buildings

of considerable extent.

Passing over heaps of rubbish, his guide stopped at what appeared to be

a small summer house--also in a ruinous state; the same signal as before

was given, and the door opening, admitted them into an apartment in

total darkness.

Ivan for a moment hesitated to follow; the idea of some diabolical

treachery--such as he had heard of too often--again rushing on his mind;

yet, quickly determining to brave the worst, he prepared to go on. His

guide spoke a few words to the person who had admitted them, and who yet

remained concealed, and then offered his hand to Ivan to conduct him

onwards.

"The neophyte must pass through darkness before he can reach the light,"

he whispered; "but fear not, it will soon burn brightly on you. Ah! I

feel your pulse beats calm and regular, such are the nerves we require;

do not speak now."

They descended a flight of steps, narrow and winding, till they were

again stopped by another door, which was opened, on the like signal as

before being given, without the porter being visible, and they found

themselves in a small chamber, lighted by a single dim lamp suspended

from the ceiling. The walls were hung with black; a chair, and a table,

on which were placed a skull and cross bones, an hour glass, and writing

materials, were the only furniture.

His guide again spoke. "This," said he, "is the chamber of meditation;

if you doubt, you may draw back. Stir not from hence till I return,

when I will lead you to undergo your ordeal, should you still nobly keep

to your determination of engaging in our cause. I need not tell you not

to fear, or to shrink from an ordeal which you will pass through with

ease, though it may fright nerveless fools. I now go to prepare the

friends of freedom for your coming; adieu!" Saying which, the

conspirator disappeared through a door opposite to the one by which they

had entered, and which closed with a loud noise behind him.

Ivan looked round, not a door was visible; he was a prisoner, he knew

not where. Left to his own reflections, he half repented the step he

had taken.

"I like not this mummery," thought he. "How weak I have been to put

such implicit trust in a man of whom I know so little. He may, after

all, have deceived me; but it is now too late to retract, and if

deceived, I must suffer for my folly, and will boldly carry through the

adventure." He threw himself on the chair. "Emblem of mortality!" he

exclaimed, looking at the skull, "to this must we all come, and to a

brave man, what terrors canst thou bring? Death, what have we to fear

in thee? Why, then, should I hesitate, when thou, happen what may, must

be the victor at last! Thou art, at the same time, the mighty despot of

all, and the only true dispenser of liberty! Thou canst conquer the

proudest potentates, and make all men equal--and yet I fear not thee;

then, why should I fear aught else? Time flies quickly; I learn this

lesson, that one must not delay when work is to be done!" His eye

caught sight of a sheet of paper, on which were inscribed several

questions. He seized the pen, and wrote appropriate answers. He

remained lost in thought. "Yes," he exclaimed, "the die is cast; I will

plunge boldly in, nor dream of retracting."

He had just come to this conclusion, when suddenly, three dark figures

stood before him enveloped in cloaks, and their features concealed by

masks.

"You must consent to be for a time deprived of sight," said one, "ere

the true light can shine on you. Are you ready to undergo your ordeal?"

"I am prepared for every ceremony necessary," answered Ivan; "do as you

will!"

One of the dark figures advanced, a handkerchief was tightly bound over

his eyes, and he felt his hand grasped by some one.

"Follow me," said a voice, "we have a long and toilsome road to take,

full of difficulties and perils, such as you dream not of finding here;

but true courage and perseverance will carry you through all dangers."

"Lead on then," said Ivan, "I am eager to undertake the journey."

Ivan felt that he was led from the chamber, when a sudden rush of cold

air met him, almost stopping his breath. He then seemed to be climbing

over rough rocks, from which he had to spring to others, following the

guide's directions; then a torrent seemed to be rushing at his feet,

into which he appeared every instant to be ready to fall, so slippery

was the broken ground. He felt himself next led up a steep mountain,

the ashes on its sides giving way under his feet as he climbed, till at

length, he reached some harder ground, when, no sooner did he appear to

have attained the summit, than he was as quickly obliged to descend, and

to pass through some low and damp cavern. On a sudden, his guide

bidding him spring forward, and dragging him at the same time, enabled

him to evade an icy torrent, which broke overhead. On, on he went; but

he neither hesitated nor trembled. A loud din now assailed his ears, of

a strange variety of confused sounds, and in a moment he found himself

near some immense furnace, into which he appeared to be about to plunge,

when his guide drew him aside, as the fierce and forked flames rushed

after him. Again he heard a loud noise, and this time it was

intelligible. He could distinguish the clashing of swords, the shrieks

of the wounded, the cries of the victors. He was in the midst of some

fierce combat. On every side was heard the jarring sound of weapons; he

felt them whirling round his head, as his guide protected him; their

sharp edges seemed to pass close to his ears, the struggling combatants

swept by him in their desperate strife, but he remained unharmed. On a

sudden, the silence of death reigned around. He stood alone: some one

presently approached, and a deep and solemn voice thus spoke--

"Ivan Galetzoff! you have shewn that you can go through the lesser

dangers and difficulties of life without shrinking; but have you courage

to face the worst, for what you have just undergone is as nothing to

what you must suffer, before we can confide in you."

"I am prepared for the most terrific dangers, and fear nothing."

"Stay then," said the voice; "answer our questions. Wherefore did you

come hither?"

"To meet those who are lovers of true freedom," answered Ivan.

"You speak well," said the voice; "are you ready to devote your talents,

your fortune, and your life, to their sacred cause?"

"Most willingly would I do my utmost to win true Liberty for Russia," he

answered.

"Are you willing to take the oaths which bind all the members of this

association?"

"I would be equally bound to support others, as they are to support me,

but I cannot pledge myself to measures of which I know not the aim."

"You speak sensibly," said the voice, "that we do not demand.

Inviolable secrecy and fidelity are all that is required of you, but

oaths must not be taken in the dark: from henceforth, may the light of

liberty shine as bright and purely as this flame."

At that moment, the bandage fell from Ivan's eyes, and he was almost

blinded by a dazzling and brilliant flame which burned before him. On

recovering his sight, he found himself standing in the midst of a circle

of persons, the points of whose swords radiated towards him.

"With these swords we swear to protect you! to gain true liberty for

Russia, or to perish in the attempt, with them in our hands!--and with

these swords we swear to destroy any, who, by word or deed, shall betray

the trust reposed in him!--We swear!" uttered all the persons present.

"Our aims are these," added the first speaker: "to curb the despotic

power of the autocrat; to abolish the exclusive privileges of the

nobles; to place every subject of Russia on an equal footing of liberty;

to liberate the serfs from the thraldom under which they groan; to have

but one law in the land to govern all men."

"To these we have sworn," responded the conspirators.

"Ivan Galetzoff! are you ready to swear to do your utmost to aid in the

accomplishment of these objects?"

"To all this I solemnly swear!" said Ivan, repeating the secret form of

the oath.

No sooner had he uttered these words, than the conspirators dropped the

points of their swords, which they had hitherto held up at his breast,

and advanced towards him with extended hands, exclaiming--

"Welcome, our brother in the great work of the regeneration of Russia!"

"We will leave you now," said he who appeared to be the conductor of the

ceremony, "till it be time to summon you to the assembly of members;"

saying which, the conspirators disappeared by a number of separate

doors, from the chamber, which was much larger than the one where he had

been previously left, and Ivan again found himself alone.

The room was vaulted, and lighted by a number of lamps, shedding a

bright glare on the various devices with which it was ornamented; but

Ivan was too much occupied and confused by the strange adventures he had

gone through to examine them. He had now banished all hesitation and

doubt, having once made the step from which there was no retracting, and

he stood with dilated eye, compressed lip, and determination on his

brow, boldly prepared to redeem, to the utmost, the pledge he had given.

He had not much time left for thought, when his friend, who had

conducted him to the place, entered, summoning him to follow, and led

the way down a flight of rude and broken steps, through a long passage,

ascending to a door, through which proceeded the sound of many voices.

He presently found himself in a rude, but large and vaulted apartment,

in the centre of which was placed a long table, surrounded by a number

of persons, who rose at his entrance, and he was desired to take a seat

by his guide, near the head of the table. As he gazed around him, he

recognised, to his astonishment, the faces of several nobles whom he had

met in the first circles of the society of Moscow, though, with the

greater number of persons present he was unacquainted.

The association comprised men of rank, fortune, and influence; military

officers; grave citizens, distinguished from the rest by their beards

and long coats; and even some who appeared to be lowly serfs. All

present wore an air of anxiety and eagerness on their countenances,

conversation being carried on in an undertone: meanwhile, several others

entered, and took their seats at the board. When all were seated, the

president of the meeting arose, and silence ensued. He was a man long

passed the prime of life, of a tall and commanding figure, whose

expansive forehead, piercing eye, and firm set lips, marked one fit to

command.

"Countrymen! Fellow Russians!" he cried, "the sacred cause of liberty

is advancing with rapid strides, and soon may we hope to see its

standard unfurled, and floating proudly in the face of our panic-struck

enemies. To those who have not yet had an opportunity of hearing our

ultimate ends and aims discussed, I now address myself.

"We have not combined to overthrow religion, virtue, and honour, order,

and wholesome government; no, my countrymen! our purpose is rather to

confirm and strengthen them throughout the land. We war alone against

vice and tyranny, unjust power and misrule. These shall crouch

trembling before our triumphant standard. I ask you, is it right--is it

just, that one man should rule millions, by the fiat of his will--that

he should be the sole and undisputed master of their lives and

properties? Are Russians worthy of the name of men, while they tamely

submit to bow their necks to so despicable a yoke? Who amongst us is,

for a moment, safe? The noble, the citizen, or the serf, by the single

word of a tyrant, may be deprived of his liberty, his property, and his

life; each amongst them is liable to be torn from his home and family--

from all that is held dear and sacred, to be bound in chains, and sent

to pass a life of exile amidst the dreary wilds of Siberia. Can we

longer submit to be thus enslaved? No--justice, honour, manhood forbid

it!

"We have, moreover, other enemies to contend with. We must attack the

privileges of those vain and dastardly nobles, who, bending their necks

to the yoke of the despot, aid and abet him in his tyranny; for without

them, how could his power stand? Are not the rest of their countrymen

equal to them in intellect, in talents, in virtue? Why then should they

be allowed to hold in slavish subjection, creatures, human as

themselves, with the same blood and sinews, with hearts beating to the

same impulses, with thoughts as free, and sentiments as noble, as their

own? There are many among us here of aristocratic birth,

disinterestedly refusing to avail themselves of their privileges, and

animated by a spirit of the most exalted philanthropy, who have arrayed

their power under the banner of freedom."

The speaker paused; his eye proudly surveyed the assembly, and the

countenances of all tacitly echoed his sentiments. He resumed:

"My brave, my loved countrymen! pardon me for speaking of myself; but I

must do so to afford you an example. I was born of the privileged

class. I once held high rank, noble possessions, unbounded wealth, and,

as I thought, power. I was young, and vainly fancied myself happy and

free. I dared to speak the thoughts of my heart, which were bold and

free, under the impression that I was too far removed from the authority

of the Emperor, to fear his anger. I dared to assert the right and just

independence of man--to utter the word liberty. Yet how had I deceived

myself in my dream of impunity; for a word spoken thoughtlessly, I was

deprived of my rank, stripped of my wealth, dragged from my family, and

banished from my rich possessions, to the barren soils of Siberia. I,

who had been brought up in the most luxurious indulgence, was driven

over hundreds of weary leagues, bare-footed, and in chains, exposed to

the inclemency of the weather the lash of the brutal guards impelling my

drooping, my exhausted steps. Each time that the sharp thong became

crimsoned with my blood, I swore deeply that no human power should

prevent me from returning, and straining every nerve to overthrow the

tyranny which could allow such atrocious barbarities to be perpetrated.

I passed many years in banishment, forgotten, and unknown. At length, I

escaped, to return to my native city; and here again I vow to accomplish

that noble purpose, or to perish in the attempt. Russians, you know my

history--many here will remember my name. The same fate may await any

of you, when least expected; and thus you are all equally interested in

rescuing our country from so abject a thraldom.

"Is it not preposterous--is it not shameful, that men who, with the

light of education, have by their own exertions gained wealth, must

still wear the vile mark of bondage; that they cannot without their

masters' will be free, and that their children must be brought up as

slaves!

"To liberate the serfs from their state of galling vassalage, is, in

itself, a great and noble work. No sooner shall the bright folds of the

standard of liberty be displayed, than thousands, tens of thousands of

that now debased class, arousing from their lethargy, will flock around

it, and proclaim the regeneration of Russia! For this cause we are all

ready to shed our blood; and again do I swear never to sheath my sword

till our holy, our glorious object is accomplished."

Every man simultaneously animated by the same spirit, stood up, and with

one accord, drawing their weapons, exclaimed together "We swear to

accomplish the regeneration of Russia, or to die in the attempt."

The president was succeeded by several of the conspirators, who in their

turn rose to address the meeting. Some were fierce and fiery

characters, to whom mild measures were distasteful, and who would be

satisfied with nothing short of the total overthrow of the Imperial

family; the abrogation of all the privileges and titles of nobility; and

the establishment of a republic, in which each member of the government

should be elected by ballot. Ivan was at first carried away by the

enthusiasm, and force of eloquence displayed by some, but he soon

discovered, that many were actuated by motives far different from those

which they professed; some by vindictive feelings; others by the

anticipation of succeeding to offices and employments, from which the

present occupiers would be thrust. Some, bankrupt in purse and

character, hoped to reap a harvest amid the general confusion, which

must ensue on a revolution, having themselves nothing to risk; but few

of the whole number perhaps, were solely influenced by the exalted

principles of liberty.

The meeting, after numerous speeches, and discussions, at length broke

up; no plan of proceedings having yet been arranged. The conspirators

departed a few at a time, each man as he reached the open air, shrouding

himself in his cloak, and bending his steps in various directions across

the mass of ruins, so that no two persons sought the same path at the

same time.

As Ivan was about to depart, he was accosted by the friend who had

brought him to the meeting.

"You have acted well, and nobly," said he; "and I trust that you may

never have reason to repent, that you have engaged in this just cause.

Ere we go, I will explain to you the secrets of this place of meeting.

This large vaulted chamber was a cellar belonging to a mansion,

destroyed at the burning of the city, during the French occupation. The

former inhabitants of the place have all died, or have left Moscow; and

no one knows of this vault, save the owner of the new house, and he is

one of the principal and most active members of the Association. He

discovered the vault amid the ruins, and prepared it for our meetings:

he himself never approaching it, except at night, and by the many secret

exits, he has formed with indefatigable labour. In every avenue are

trusty guards in various disguises, so that there is but little

likelihood of a surprise; yet, should we by any chance be discovered, we

are prepared to sell our lives dearly. I will now lead you forth;

follow--but at a short distance behind me." Threading several passages,

they gained the open air, and passing from the garden by a different

gate, to that by which they had entered, after a short walk, Ivan found

himself in a part of the city, with which he was acquainted; his guide

then bidding him farewell, he returned to his temporary home.

Volume 1, Chapter X.

It has been the constant aim of the Imperial Court to draw within its

focus the noblesse from all quarters of the Empire, with a view to keep

them more entirely under the eye of government, tempting them with

ribbons, stars, and titles.

However well the plan has succeeded with the poorer nobles and many

indeed of the more powerful, attracted by the pomp and magnificence of

St. Petersburg, no lures have been found to decoy others equally rich

and influential, who prefer the independence and freedom they enjoy in

their palaces at Moscow, and country-seats, to the formality and tedious

etiquette of the court. The Czar, therefore, naturally regards with a

jealous eye, those who shun his presence,--as inimical to his rule, and

none more so perhaps, than the proud and wealthy patricians of Moscow,

known to possess the liberal principles so subversive of despotism: men

who prefer to reside with their families among the ancient retainers of

their house, and to enjoy the freedom, and surpassing beauty of their

native city.

Not so, however, the Count Erintoff; he kept at a distance from the

court, and the eye of authority, that he might enjoy greater license for

his vices and profligacy. His palace stood in the environs of the city,

and was furnished with all the magnificence and luxury for which his

fortune gave ample means.

It was a stately mansion, and had been rebuilt after the conflagration

by his father; a nobleman every way qualified to fill the high station

he held; but who with culpable indulgence had not paid that attention to

the education of his son, which would qualify him to be a worthy

successor to himself. Magnificent mirrors and pictures adorned the

walls; couches and hangings from the East; objects of virtu from Italy;

of decoration, from France; and furniture and all the appurtenances of

comfort from England, filled the rooms.

The Count was pacing through his spacious galleries with hasty steps,

when a servant submissively approached him.

"How now knave! what want you here?" said the Count, angrily; without

noticing the person of the intruder.

"I come to bring you the information you sent me to gain," answered the

man. "I have been partly successful."

"Ah, Groff! is it you, faithful villain. I did not expect you so soon,"

said the noble. "What is the information you bring me? for if I

recollect right, you had a variety of commissions to perform."

"Why, what I should think would please you most--about the Gipsy girl,

who before slipped through our fingers," answered the man.

"What of her, knave?" said the Count, in an angry tone at his servant's

freedom of speech; but the man seemed unmoved as he answered, "She is

now in Moscow, I passed her just now on my way here, and I have formed a

plan by which I think I can induce her to come here."

"Tell me not of your plans, knave!" answered the Count. "I require no

suggestion but must have execution, and you shall then have the reward I

promised. But say, when do you expect to succeed with this most notable

plan you talk of? The girl is not to be entrapped so easily as you

anticipate."

"By to-morrow at furthest, or perchance this very day, if my messenger

can find the girl, though he may have some difficulty in falling in with

her; but you may have changed your mind, Sir. Is it still your pleasure

that she come here?"

"Yes, knave; and mark me, if you fail and disappoint me, you shall

suffer!" said the Count. "Now, tell me quickly, how you hope to

succeed; let me hear all you have to say."

"In the first place, fortune has favoured us, Sir," said Groff, "for

while I was out concerning the affairs you sent me on, it appears that

two Gipsy boys were singing and playing in front of the palace, to the

idle porters and other servants, when a drosky, driven furiously by,

knocked one of them down, and left him senseless on the ground. I know

not how it was, but Kruntz and some of the other men, were seized with a

fit of humanity, and brought the wounded boy within the palace, and when

his companion was crying over him, some of them bathed his bruises and

hurts. I arrived at that time, having just encountered the damsel of

the same race where I told you. A thought struck me, that I might turn

the accident to some account. I found that the boys did not know in

whose palace they were; and after some talk with the one who was not

wounded, I contrived to learn that he belonged to the same tribe as the

girl you are in search of. I accordingly hinted to the boy, where she

was likely to be found, and persuaded him to set off, in order to bring

her to his brother, as she was better able to cure him than any doctor.

I told him, therefore, that this was the palace of the Prince

Raziminski, into which she will not fear to enter; and having directed

him to mark it well so as not to forget it, sent him off to bring her

here immediately. Have I done well, Sir?"

"I have no great expectation, that your ill-contrived scheme will

succeed," answered the Count, stiffly; "I know she will not come! What

else have you to communicate?"

"Somewhat with respect to the son of the Baron Galetzoff. I think Sir,

you may soon have your revenge on him."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Count, looking deeply interested, "what of that

youth? could I wreak my vengeance on him, and win the girl into the

bargain, I should be contented. What have you to say of him?"

"Why, Sir," replied Groff, "I have discovered where he resides, and have

dogged his steps constantly; once or twice I have been nearly

discovered; but have hitherto eluded him successfully. I know all his

haunts, his habits and his movements; and I find that he constantly

passes a spot where a dagger might reach his bosom, without fear of the

deed being discovered. You have thus a full opportunity of satisfying

your vengeance."

"What, villain!" exclaimed the noble, indignantly, "do you think that I

have become a common assassin, to strike my enemy in the dark? I would

have revenge; but not such as your dull brain can invent. In what part

of the city, do you say you have seen him?"

Groff mentioned a part of Moscow, near the spot where the conspirators

held their meetings.

"And at what time did he usually pass by?"

"Soon after sun-set," answered Groff. "I marked him on his way from the

hotel; but each time I lost sight of him, soon after he passed that

spot: I have then waited for hours till his return; but before long, I

hope to discover where he vanishes to, and he will be clever if he again

escapes me. I have my suspicions, that he is not the only person who

visits that part of the city by stealth; for I confess that I have twice

made a mistake, and followed different people, when I was in search of

him."

"That must be looked to," said the Count, "we may find that something is

going forward worth discovering; beware, that you do not make a mistake.

For myself, I would not imbue my hands with blood. It would be but

slight satisfaction to feel my dagger entering his bosom, and his warm

life-blood streaming from the wound: I leave those feelings to the

passionate, fiery-blooded Italians. Yet, mark me Groff! I hate the

young Galetzoff, and it would be enough for me to know that he had

ceased to live. There are many dark lanes in Moscow, and the

Istvostchiks are great villains, and often commit murder with no better

object, than for the sake of the paltry sums a person may have about

him; you understand me. I loathe the very sight of that youth. He

faces me with the coolest indifference, as if he had not injured me to

the utmost; and yet there is something in his eye, when he meets my

gaze, by which I have strong suspicions that he knows me. I cannot rest

till I am revenged on him. You will probably win one reward, and here

take half for what you have already done, in earnest of the future."

The Count then tendered a purse which Groff weighed in his hand, as if

to consider whether the bribe was high enough for the deed. "I will do

my best to please you, Sir," he answered.

"Enough, I need now say no more then; ten times the sum you hold in your

hand shall be yours, if, by chance, I hear of that youth's death. The

police are not over vigilant in those matters, and I think the Baron

will take no great pains to discover the author of his son's death, for

he seems not to have much love for him. Now leave me, and think well on

what I have said. Should the Gipsy girl fall into your snare, let me

immediately know of her arrival; but take care that she does not see

your face--that alone is enough to frighten her, and she would remember

it. See that the wounded boy is well tended, that he may learn to speak

well of the owner of the mansion; and let the girl remain some time with

him, if possible, ere I go to her."

As soon as Groff had disappeared, the Count continued his walk through

the corridor. "Fortune seems to favour me," he soliloquised; "as to

young Galetzoff, I need trouble myself no more;--his fate is sealed! I

saw that in the look that villain Groff gave, as I promised him the

gold! His eyes glistened as he seemed eager to clutch it. He is a

faithful ruffian, and well earns his reward. Such slaves as he, would

sell their very souls for gold; and I, some would say, would sell mine;

but oh! for what?--Not for gold; no;--for revenge--for love--for power--

a worthy exchange too! What would life be worth, if one could not enjoy

all three?

"That Gipsy maiden has enchained me. I scarce know why, but, though

lowly her lot, there is a fascination about her which I cannot

withstand. I must win her at all hazards in some way. Either gold or

flattery must gain her; she must be more than woman if she holds out

against the two combined. And if she does, with that proud and haughty

air she possesses, she is worthy to become the Countess Erintoff, though

that is an alternative I would avoid. Bah! I cannot think I shall be

brought so low as to sue at the feet of a Gipsy!"

While the Count was thus uttering his thoughts aloud, Groff returned.

"Success attends us, Sir," he exclaimed. "The maiden is at length safe

within your palace, from whence she may have some difficulty in

escaping, though she firmly believes that she is under the roof of the

most grave and virtuous Prince Raziminski, and continues heaping

blessings on his head, for his charity in protecting one of her tribe."

"Enough, knave! the reward shall be yours," said the Count. "In what

part of the palace have they put the boy?"

"I will lead you to it, Sir," answered Groff, "for I doubt if alone you

could find the room."

"Shew me to it then, and leave me," said the Count; "your presence would

alarm the maiden!"

Saying which, he followed Groff down several flights of steps, and

through long passages to a room in the lower part of the palace. He

then waited at the half open door, through which he heard the sound of

voices.