THE CZARINA AND HER MASTER.
With flashing eyes, folded arms, and pale, stern, face, sat Potemkin,
and his glance seemed about to annihilate the terrified woman, who had
neither strength to call for help nor self-possession to greet her
unwelcome visitor. He rose, however, and came forward. Catharine
trembled and shuddered as he passed her by, locked the door and put the
key in his pocket.
The empress looked around, and in deadly fear saw that there was no hope
of rescue. She was alone with Potemkin, entirely alone!
Not a word had yet been spoken, but this fearful silence affrighted her
more than a tempest of angry words would have done.
At last Potemkin stood directly before her, and spoke. "If Potemkin is
obnoxious to you, speak the word, and I annihilate him."
"Oh!" screamed Catharine, "he knows all."
"Yes, I know all--I heard Orloff offer to be my executioner. Pray, why
did you not accept the offer at once?"
He had come so near, that Catharine felt his hot breath upon her brow,
like the blast from a furnace.
"I ask you again," said he, stamping his foot with fury, "why do you not
let the axe of your executioner fall upon my neck? Answer me!"
Catharine was speechless with fright, and Potemkin, exasperated at her
silence, raised his clinched hand, and looked so fierce, that the
czarina fell backward almost upon her knees, murmuring--"Potemkin,
would you kill me!"
"And if I did," cried he, grinding his teeth, "would death not be the
just punishment of your treachery? Your treachery to me, who have given
you my heart, my soul, my life, while you betray and accuse me, not face
to face, as would an honorable woman, but behind my back as becomes a
coward and a hypocrite! Look at me, and answer my question, I command
you!"
Again he raised his hand, and his deep voice rolled like angry thunder
in her ear. Catharine, against her will, obeyed his voice, and raised
her eyes to his. She saw his lofty brow, like that of an angry demi-god,
his dark, dangerous, fiery eyes, his glistening teeth, his magnificent
frame, lithe, athletic, and graceful as that of "The statue that
enchants the world," and a sensation of shuddering ecstasy flooded her
whole being. Forgotten were her fears, her terror, her dream of
vengeance; and, regardless of the hand which was still raised to
threaten her, she cried out, in tones of mingled love and anguish:
"Oh, Alexandrowitsch, how preter-human is your beauty! You stand, like
an avenging god, before me; and I--I can only worship and tremble!"
With faltering steps she approached, and folding her arms around his
stalwart form, she laid her head upon his breast, and wept.
"See," murmured she, "I am here to receive the stroke. Let me die by
your hand, Gregory Alexandrowitsch, for since you love me no longer, I
am weary of life!"
Potemkin heaved a sigh, and freeing himself from Catharine's arms, fell
back upon the sofa, buried his face in his hands, and sobbed
convulsively.
"Why do you weep, Potemkin?" said Catharine, hastening to his side.
"Why I weep!" exclaimed he. "I weep because of my own crime. Despair had
well-nigh made of me a traitor. Why does not this hand wither, which was
uplifted to touch the anointed of the Lord! Why does not Heaven smite
the wretch whose misery had tempted him to such irreverence of his
sovereign!"
And Potemkin flung himself at Catharine's feet, crying out:
"Kill me, Catharine, that I may not go mad for remorse of my treason!"
Catharine smiled, and tried to raise him up.
"No," said she, tenderly, "live, and live for me."
But Potemkin still clung to her feet.
"No, let me lie here as the sinner lies before the altar of the Most
High! I am a traitor--but despair has made me criminal. As I stood
behind the tapestry, and heard how my empress accused me, I felt that
the spectral hand of madness was hovering above my brain. Oh, Catharine,
it is you whom I adore, you who have made of me a lunatic!"
Again he buried his face in Catharine's robes, and wept. She, perfectly
disarmed, leaned over him, caressing him with her hands, and imploring
him to be comforted.
"Let me lie here and weep," continued her Alexandrowitsch, "not for me,
but for my Catharine--the star of my life! She, whom my enemies would
deceive; that deceiving they might ruin her, when her only friend is
lost to her forever!"
"Of whom do you speak?" asked the czarina, frightened.
"I speak of those who hate me, because I will not join them in their
treachery toward my empress--of those who hold out to me gold and
diamonds, and who hate me because I will not sell my loyalty for pelf.
Oh, I was flattered with orders and honors, promises and presents. But I
would not listen. What cared I for future security? What mattered it to
me that I was to be the victim of Paul's vengeance? I thought of you
alone; and more to me was the safety of your crown than that of my
worthless life! I was loyal and incorruptible!"
Catharine had listened with distended eyes and lips parted in suspense.
When Potemkin named her son, her whole bearing changed. From the
love-stricken woman she leaped at once into the magnificent Czarina.
"Potemkin," said she, imperiously, "I command you to rise and answer my
questions."
Potemkin rose with the promptness of a well-trained slave, and said,
humbly:
"Imperial mistress, speak--and, by the grave of my mother, I will answer
truthfully."
"What means your allusion to the Grand Duke Paul? Who are the enemies
that sought to corrupt you? What are their aims?"
"The grand duke is weary of his subordinate position, and yearns for the
crown which he thinks it is his right to wear."
Catharine's two hands clutched at her head, as though to defend her
crown.
"He shall not have it!" she screamed. "He will not dare to raise his
impious hands to snatch his mother's rights away!"
"He will find other hands to do it; for you well know, Catharine, that
the crime from which we recoil ourselves, we transfer to other hands,
while we accept its fruits."
Catharine shuddered, and grew pale.
"Yes, yes," murmured she to herself, "yes, I know it--well I know it,
for it has murdered sleep for me!"
"And the grand duke has accomplices, Catharine. Not one, nor two--but
half of your subjects mutter within themselves that the crown you wear
has been Paul's since his majority. Russia is one grand conspiracy
against you, and your enemies have pitched their tents at the foot of
your throne. They may well hate the only man who stands between you and
destruction. Their arrows have glanced harmlessly from the adamantine
shield of his loyalty, and there remained but the alternative of
calumniating him to his empress. Oh, Catharine, my angel; beware of
Paul, who has never forgotten how his father lost his life! Beware of
Orloff, who has never forgiven you for loving me! Both these traitors,
with Panin to truckle to them, are in league with Von Gortz to force you
into a league destructive of Russian aggrandizement. Oh, my beloved! sun
of my existence! mount into the heaven of your own greatness, and let
not the cloud of intrigue obscure your light. And when safe in the
noonday of your splendor, you think of this day, let one warm ray of
memory stream upon the grave of the man who died because his empress
ceased to love him!"
At the conclusion of his peroration, Potemkin knelt down and
passionately kissed the hem of Catharine's robe. Then, springing up, he
clasped his hands, and turned away. But the empress darted after him
like an enraged lioness, and, catching his arm, gasped:
"What! you would leave me, Alexandrowitsch?"
"Yes--I go to Orloff, to receive my death! The empress has willed it,
and she shall find me obedient even unto my latest breath."
"No, Gregory," said Catharine, weeping profusely, "you shall remain to
shield me from my enemies."
So saying, she put her arms around his neck, but he drew them away.
"No, Catharine, no! After what I have heard to-day. I do not desire to
live. Let me die! let me die!"
"Potemkin," cried she, struggling to detain him, "I shall never, never
mistrust you again. And I promise you that Gregory Orloff shall never
pass this threshold again."
"How? Do you promise to sacrifice Orloff to me?" cried Potemkin,
eagerly, cured in a thrice of his desire for death.
"I do, Gregory, I do. There shall be but one Gregory to reign over my
court and my heart, and he shall be Gregory Potemkin!"
"You swear it, Catharine?"
"My imperial word thereupon. Now will you remain and protect me?"
"Yes, I remain, to confound your enemies. It shall not be said that I am
flown in the hour when your noble head is endangered. I shall remain for
your sake, for the peril is very great, Catharine."
"Gracious Heaven, Gregory, what danger threatens me?"
"You ask me such a question while Paul lives, and has Orloff and Panin
for his accomplices, and Frederick for his friend?"
"Oh, no, dear Gregory, your anxiety leads you into error. I know that
Paul hates me, but I do not believe that Prussia is his ally; for it is
clearly the interest of Prussia to conciliate me, and he is too wise to
entangle himself in such conspiracies just at the expiration of our
treaty."
"Oh, you noble, unsuspecting woman!" cried Potemkin, ardently, "you know
nothing of the egotism of the world. You believe in the honesty of
Frederick, while he speculates upon the consequences of your death!"
The empress grew pale and her eyes flashed with anger. "Prove it to me,"
said she, imperiously.
Potemkin drew from his bosom the letter he had that morning received
from Frederick. Catharine read it, and then said, "Much flattery, and
many mysterious promises. What do they mean?"
"Count von Gortz was so good as to explain. The king offered to make me
Duke of Courland, to give me a German princess in marriage, and to
secure me the favor of your successor."
"That is not possible!" exclaimed Catharine, "those were idle words."
"Oh, no, your majesty, I will prove to you that they are not, as soon as
Von Gortz is announced."
The empress looked at the clock, which pointed to two.
"It is exactly the hour I appointed to receive him." said she. "He must
be in the anteroom."
"Have I your permission to go to him?"
The empress nodded, and Potemkin, drawing the key from his pocket,
unlocked the door and disappeared. Catharine locked after him, and
heaving a bitter sigh, said: "No more hope of rescue! He rules over me
like irresistible destiny!"
In a few moments Potemkin returned with the paper. Catharine having
looked over it, returned it with a smile.
"I thank the King of Prussia for this," said she, gently, "for my last
hours will no longer be embittered by anxiety for your safety,
Alexandrowitsch. Preserve this paper with care."
Potemkin took it from her hand and tore it to pieces.
"Are you mad?" cried Catharine, "that you tear this promise of
protection from Paul?"
"When Catharine dies, I no longer desire to live, and I hope that Paul
may release me of life at once--I shall die rejoicing."
"Oh, Gregory," exclaimed Catharine, again moved to tears, "I shall never
forget these words! You have sacrificed much for me, and you shall have
princely reward; on my word you shall! Let the grand duke be careful to
utter no inconsiderate words, for the steppes of Siberia are as
accessible to the prince as to the peasant; and every traitor, were he
the heir of the crown itself, is amenable to justice before me! And
Panin, with his eternal pratings of honesty and frankness, let him, too,
beware, for he wavers on the edge of a precipice!" "And Prussia?" asked
Potemkin, with a significant smile.
Catharine smiled in return. "I cannot chide HIM, Potemkin, for he would
have befriended YOU."
"And the treaty? Do you intend to renew it with this wise, far-seeing
prince?"
"I cannot say. It depends upon the offers he makes. Stay in this room,
Gregory; and I will receive Von Gortz in the next one, where you can
hear what passes between us."