THE PACKET.
I WENT directly to my own quarters and ordered Pierrot to have my horse
saddled, while I put on my riding boots and loaded my pistols. I had no
taste for my errand, but was determined to execute it faithfully, and
with all possible speed. To my astonishment, Pierrot reappeared booted
and spurred for the ride. I eyed him with anger.
“Who required your attendance?” I asked sharply.
An obstinate expression came over the man’s honest face.
“M. le Vicomte,” he said solemnly, “the city is in a turmoil, and you
may need my sword, even if you do not care for my attendance.”
“Pshaw, Pierrot!” I replied, more pleasantly, “they are too busy
preparing to cut each other’s throats to care to cut mine.”
“I know not how that may be, monsieur,” he rejoined stubbornly; “but I
do know that the serfs are all ready to rise if the Streltsi mutiny,
and there is no one here to care whether our throats are cut or not, so
we must even look after them ourselves.”
“Well, look after yours, my good man,” I said carelessly, “and trust me
to take care of my own.”
Pierrot stood hesitating for a moment; I saw that he was by no means
silenced, but pretended not to observe him while I fastened my belt
with the pistols in it and adjusted my cloak, receiving very little
assistance from him. I had turned to leave the room when he touched my
sleeve. I stopped impatiently, but something in his eyes checked my
anger.
“What is it now, you persistent knave?” I asked, conscious that my
resolution was weakening before his obstinate devotion.
“M. le Vicomte,” he said gravely, “I have served you faithfully for
many years; my father served yours, before me. I pray you, let me share
your peril, if I may not avert it.”
I was deeply touched, but passed it off lightly. “Nonsense, man!” I
said; “you make a mountain out of a molehill. I am in no danger; but
since you are so obstinate, have your way, but we have the prospect of
a hard ride, and little risk to vary the monotony.”
The foolish fellow thanked me as if I had conferred a great favor,
and in a few moments we were in the saddle, and walking our horses
down the narrow streets, which were dark enough to enforce a little
caution. It was now late, and events had so crowded upon each other,
that it seemed to me that it must be nearer morning than it really
was. The city was not as quiet as usual at that hour; heavy sounds
smote the ear, and the hum of some distant noise coming from the
direction of the quarters of the Streltsi. We were riding through the
Zemlianui-gorod towards the suburbs, where I was to find the house of
the Boyar Urusof. The moon was entirely obscured now, and it was so
dark that it required all my attention to guide my horse along the
indifferent road,--Pierrot keeping close in my wake and, contrary to
his custom, offering no suggestions about our journey, feeling perhaps
that he accompanied me only on sufferance. As we traversed the narrow
streets, I had ample time for reflection, and the more my mind dwelt
on my errand, the less it pleased me. Up to this time, I had been
able to keep clear of any entanglement with the court intrigues, thus
maintaining pleasant relations at the palace; but now I was fairly
committed to the Miloslavskys, for if the fact that I had accepted such
a mission reached the ears of the Czarina Natalia, I could look for
little toleration from her; and if the Naryshkin party maintained their
supremacy, my place at court would not be tenable, and it would be
impossible for me to reach Zénaïde Ramodanofsky. Yet I had been forced
into my predicament, having no choice in the matter. My thoughts of
the Czarevna Sophia were scarcely pleasant ones; but my only hope was
that she would be victorious, and my errand would then be vindicated.
I confess, too, to considerable curiosity about the packet that I
carried. I could not doubt its importance, and wondered to what extent
she had trusted me.
These reflections were interrupted by Pierrot, who asked which of two
roads I intended to follow. I had already decided on the shorter one;
but he objected, on the ground that he knew it to be in bad condition,
and that our horses might meet with an accident. However, I was too
anxious to be done with my distasteful errand to heed his precautions,
and in a few moments we were riding on again, carefully, it is true,
but yet at a fair rate of speed. We had advanced a considerable
distance, when I thought that I heard a commotion of some kind in
front, and, at the same time, there was the sound of a horse’s hoofs
coming rapidly towards us. In the darkness, I could only discover an
imperfect outline of a horse and rider as they approached me. I turned
aside to make room, but the stranger reined in his horse as he came
abreast of us. He uttered an exclamation in Russian which I did not
catch, and I asked him what he had said.
“You cannot go on!” he exclaimed, in an excited tone; “there is a small
riot on the road. Some of the Streltsi have got after one of their
officers and taken him prisoner, and they will not let any one through
the lines. I am going back to the city for help.”
“Will they murder him?” I asked, feeling that we ought to interfere.
“No; they are going to take him to their own quarters,” the stranger
said, touching his horse with his spurs.
I called after him to know if there was any short cut to the other
road, which I had despised. He replied that he did not know, but
that there was a public house a few yards in front of me, where I
could get all the information that I required. If it had not been for
the czarevna’s packet, I should have been inclined to risk getting
through the rioters; but I knew it would be a sorry matter to fall
into their hands with that imperial missive on my person. I foresaw
some difficulty and delay as it was, and cursing my luck, rode forward
to the house indicated by the stranger. It was a long, low building
surrounded by a high wall; there was no light at the front, but I
saw one burning in the rear, inside the courtyard, and the gate was
ajar. Tossing my reins to Pierrot, I dismounted, and approaching the
gateway, looked into a large bare court, partially illumined by the
light streaming from an open door opposite. I knocked with the hilt
of my sword, but there was no sound but the restive plunge of one of
my own horses; I looked back and saw Pierrot trying to quiet them. As
there was no response, I pushed open the gate, which squeaked angrily,
as if the hinges were rusted. Crossing the court, I was approaching the
open door, when the light was suddenly extinguished. My surprise stayed
my foot, for I was left in total darkness, and without having seen
anyone in the place. In another moment I advanced to the doorway and
struck the post with my fist. I heard the sound of feet moving within,
and bending forward, strained my eyes to penetrate the darkness. As
I did so, some one sprang on me from behind, and I was thrown heavily
face downward on the step; before I could make any outcry, my head
was muffled by my first assailant, while another person kept my arms
pinioned. I made a violent effort to free myself, but was perfectly
powerless in the hands of the ruffians, who did their work silently,
although I thought that I could hear, even through my muffling, the
sound of a number of feet. I remembered, at that moment, with regret
that I had not heeded Pierrot’s cautions, and still hoped that he
might take alarm and come to my assistance; but the height of the
wall precluded all possibility of seeing into the court, even in the
daylight, and in that pitch darkness only an owl could have discovered
anything. My mysterious assailants evidently had some well-defined
plan in their minds; for without consultation, or even speaking, they
proceeded to lift me, none too gently, and carried me into the house.
However, they did not stop there; but passing on, I heard a heavy door
unbarred, and from the change of atmosphere, was sure that I was out of
doors again. Then I became conscious of being lifted into a carriage,
and could indistinctly hear the horses prancing as we started off at
a rate that argued a better road than that by which I had approached
the ill-fated spot. The cords which bound my arms and legs hurt not a
little, and, muffled as I was, I found it even difficult to breathe. My
thoughts were too confused to reason out the cause or probable results
of my unfortunate predicament, but I was greatly alarmed for the safety
of the czarevna’s packet. Even if their object was robbery alone,
they would still be sure to discover the papers, and would doubtless
make use of them; but from the first, I fancied that the packet was
the cause of my trouble, and yet was at loss to understand how it
could have been suspected that I was the bearer of Sophia’s messages.
Suddenly I remembered Homyak at the door of the czarevna’s apartment,
and knew myself for a blockhead. Von Gaden had openly expressed his
antipathy to the miserable dwarf, and I knew him to be identified
with Vladimir Ramodanofsky, an active adherent of the Naryshkins. My
carelessness had been my own undoing, and I now suspected that the
story of the riotous Streltsi on the road was a fable, and that I had
been led into a snare as easily as the veriest simpleton in the world.
Poor Pierrot! I fancied his distress, and only hoped that his fate
might not be worse than my own. Meanwhile, the packet still remained
upon my person, and I lay helpless in the bottom of the carriage. On,
on, we sped! What could be our destination? The cords cut more and
more about my limbs, and my breath came with an effort. I felt that a
few moments more of this would strangle me. I endeavored to gain some
liberty by contortions of my whole body; but after a few spasmodic
movements, I received a sharp kick in the ribs from one of my captors,
and found it expedient to lie still. The sensation of smothering was
horrible, the oppression on the chest, the pain at the heart; and every
movement was torture. Reaching at last the limit of endurance, I lost
consciousness, and knew nothing more until I came to myself, on the
floor of a small room, my eyes straining up at the low ceiling, and the
morning light streaming in at a window opposite.
At the first awakening I remembered nothing, and was vaguely astonished
at my strange surroundings. Then, suddenly recollecting what had
occurred, I sat up, finding, at the same time, that I was very sore
and stiff. The cords had been removed, and my clothes were open at
the throat, so that I suspected that there had been some difficulty
in reviving me at all. Remembering the czarevna’s packet, I felt for
it, only to find it gone. Then I looked to see if I had been robbed;
but no,--to my astonishment, my money was untouched, down to the last
livre, only the ring from my finger--my signet--was gone. My sword and
pistols had shared the fate of the packet. It was not difficult to draw
conclusions. The czarevna’s precautions had been futile, and I had been
tracked from the Kremlin, falling, as I was forced to acknowledge to
myself, an easy victim into the hands of the enemy. My reflections were
extremely bitter; not only had I failed to execute my trust, but was
probably a ruined man. An account of this affair reaching Versailles
would scarcely redound to my credit; and if it was as serious as I
had every reason to fear, it would cut short my career. I could never
again expect to enjoy the confidence of Louvois, at that time virtually
prime minister of France, or of my sovereign, for the great Louis
grasped every detail of affairs, and even my ill-fated gallantry was
not likely to escape that eagle eye. As for the Czarevna Sophia, I was
conscious of a miserable desire to escape from future encounter with
that princess! I sat for a long time in the middle of the floor in a
kind of stupor, partly the result of my experience, and partly caused
by my forlorn reflections. But after a while I roused myself, and
finding that the door was securely fastened without, went to the window
to discover the prospect there.
It was far too high from the ground to offer any means of escape,
so that at first I felt my position to be hopeless. It looked down
upon a courtyard, and was in the wing of a large house. My first
glance gave me no comfort, but my second reassured me; there was a
strange familiarity about the place, and leaning out I looked down,
and discovered far below a postern in this wing, close to the main
building, and then was sure of my recognition; it must be the house of
Ramodanofsky. A closer examination of the building satisfied me. If
I had not fancied it impossible, I should have recognized the place
at once. I was no longer downcast, but, strange to say, elated at
the thought of being a prisoner in a room that must be directly over
those of Zénaïde Feodorovna. I set about at once devising some means
of acquainting Mademoiselle Eudoxie with my predicament. At first it
seemed a nearly impossible task, and then I hit upon an experiment
which was at least worth a trial. Taking two handkerchiefs and
tearing them in strips, I knotted and twisted them into a string of
considerable length, and weighting it with my belt, let it cautiously
down from my window, until it swung to and fro like a pendulum before
the casement directly beneath mine.