The Green Book Part 67

Perhaps to be realized. Perhaps already for days past some bold spirit--one of the Irreconcilables--has been crouching below in the crypt, the coffins filled with gunpowder, waiting for the signal of the bell which calls the faithful together to carry out the awful deed which shall overturn a mighty empire. The fatality was prevented--forbidden by the ashes of the dead.

The next day, at early morning, the Czar was not driven to the Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan, where the richly clad Metropolitan awaited him, but to the Chapel of Alexander Nevski, where an ascetic attired in black, the "Simnik," advanced to conduct him to the ma.s.s for the dead.

An official paper has categorically described this ceremony. How the Czar knelt before the Icons; how the protopope Seraphim placed the New Testament upon his head, lying prostrate in the dust; how the Ruler of All the Russias did penance in the poor Simnik's cell, and how the Simnik told him of the degeneracy of the people. The account being authentic, it, of course, does not contain a single word that is not true.

A very different reason was it that had brought the Czar within those walls. Here rested the ashes of his three dead daughters, side by side--for he had had Sophie's remains brought here secretly. And it was these three children, deep down in the earth as they were, who combined to save their father, calling him to their calm, secure resting-place.

What had the father to say to his dead? The walls alone can make reply.

Official report is silent.

As the Czar left the church, in which he had heard the ma.s.s for the dead to the end, the sun was just rising, its reddish rays gilding the towers of the Church of SS. Peter and Paul, and the cupolas and cross of the Isaac Cathedral, through the sea of mist, the hollow tones of the early bells vibrating long in the stillness.

All sounds were hushed as Czar Alexander looked upon the capital of his vast empire for the last time. And as the troika, drawn by its fiery team, rolled rapidly away, the Czar turned to gaze, the better to impress the scene upon his memory, a scene which the rising mist was slowly, slowly shutting out from his view.

CHAPTER XLIV

THE MAN WITH THE GREEN EYES

There was alarm, almost panic, in the capital when the news became known that the Czar had started by the Sea of Azof and the Crimea to the Caucasus! Now people understood the meaning of the comet! It was the agent which had upset the calculations of wise men and fools alike.

Fearful curses echoed through the catacombs of the Church of the Holy Virgin of Kasan when it became known that the Czar had changed his plans and gone to Alexander Nevski Chapel! The plots, the fulfilment of which was to shake the world, had been a failure! The Czar had left St.

Petersburg and betaken himself to a remote spot nineteen hundred versts away, nearer by thirteen degrees to the equator. He had betaken himself to a land where conspiracies do not flourish; he had escaped the giant trap laid for him. The plot of the "Free Slavs" had come to naught, which was to have begun the work of freedom with the immediate murder of the Czar. Now the plot formed by the "Northern Union" came to the fore, which was to carry out the const.i.tution planned by "the green book," either by forcing the Czar to initiate it or by his exile. In either case, without violence to the crown.

The Czar started on September 13th, seven days before the date fixed for the grand review. By this means the net of the military conspiracy was also rudely torn asunder.

The members of the Szojusz Blagadenztoiga hastened to confer at Zeneida's palace, not waiting invitation. What was to be done now?

Twenty-three among the twenty-four said the whole thing must be begun afresh. The four-and-twentieth was Jakuskin, who said:

"If all of you fall away, I remain firm. Discuss as you choose; I act."

And with these words he left the meeting.

Hence the chase had begun. As the hungry wolf pursues the hare through steppes, forests, marshes, so Jakuskin pursued his prey.

The Czar had a six hours' start of his enemy, who fully expected to get over the ground quickly enough to come up with him. He had a strong Caucasian mare accustomed to do its twenty hours a day and then graze on any gra.s.s at hand. The rider was worthy of his horse; he, too, could content himself with a piece of bread and bacon, and take his four hours' sleep under any shrub by the wayside.

But the pursued went fast. Every day the Czar covered one hundred and fifty kilometres--_i.e._, a twenty hours' post--only allowing himself four hours' sleep. He was also accompanied by a large escort; but that was no impediment to Jakuskin's plan.

Once to stand face to face with him was all he needed. He knew the way in which the Czar travelled. First a picket of Cossacks, well in advance of the rest of the cortege, that the Czar might not be incommoded by the dust of their horses' feet. Then in the first carriage the Czar, easily to be recognized by his coachman, Ilias, his long beard fluttering like a couple of flags on either side the carriage. With him is his adjutant, Count Wolkonsky. The Count is a small, undersized man; the Czar a man of splendid physique--tall, athletic, with a head small in proportion to his size. Impossible not to recognize him.

If only Jakuskin could get in advance of his intended victim! But this he could not do. The pursuer's worst hinderance was the moonlight, which, turning night into day, enabled the imperial cortege to travel continuously, and thus prevented his stealing a march. Fortunately, on the seventh day, when they reached Kursk, the sky suddenly clouded over and stormy weather set in. The moon no longer replaced the sun, and driving by night was impossible--but not riding.

This gave hopes of overtaking the Czar. But these hopes also were doomed to be frustrated.

He was to experience that nothing is impossible to the great of the earth. When the Czar is in haste even darkness must yield. Once when Jakuskin, galloping in the pitch darkness over breakneck paths, had got nearly up with the escort, it was but to see that the Czar's way was illuminated. Men carrying lighted torches were riding on either side of the imperial carriage.

"All the better!" thought Jakuskin to himself. But when he reached the high-road, he saw that as far as the eye reached, at a distance of three hundred paces, were f.a.got heaps, serfs standing beside them with lighted matches; and as the Czar approached, one f.a.got heap after another, blazing up, lighted the way. This went on till break of day.

The Czar rattled over the ground by artificial light.

Thus the wolf hangs back, gnas.h.i.+ng his hungry teeth, when he sees fire-light. These bonfires along the highway destroyed his calculations.

He must give up the pursuit; now he might allow himself time for sleep.

He did not move from the hut in which he had taken shelter for a whole week, till the second cortege came up with the Czarina. She travelled more slowly; that which had taken the Czar twelve days she accomplished in twenty-four. Jakuskin followed on her track. The journey came to an end at Taganrog.

Taganrog is a seaport on the Sea of Azof. It is a modest little town which has twice been entirely deserted by its inhabitants, having once been made over by the Russians to the Turks; the next time, at conclusion of peace, by the Sultan of Turkey to the Czar. At present it is inhabited by Greeks. It was only due to the chance throw of a knife that it did not form the site of the capital of the empire. When Czar Peter conceived the idea of founding a new capital on the sea he was in doubt whether to build it in the Finnish marshes or the Tartar steppes.

The throwing of a knife decided it. If it had fallen point downward Taganrog would now be St. Petersburg, and the cupolas of Isaac Cathedral would be reflected in the Sea of Azof instead of in the Neva.

Jakuskin knew beforehand that the Czarina would not be staying here.

There was not a single garden in the whole town. No one planted a tree lest his neighbor should gather the fruit. The first cutting wind that blew would teach the Czarina's physicians that a place is not Italy because it happens to be a certain lat.i.tude. The Czar would seek some place in his vast empire for his beloved invalid to rest where the trees are green all the year round. He has two places to choose between, Georgia and the Crimea--both countries a paradise to the Russians, who for eight months in the year are accustomed to see nothing but icicles about them.

Hardly had the Empress Elisabeth installed herself in the castle at Taganrog when the Czar started upon his voyage of discovery. He set out in the direction of Novocserkask.

Jakuskin concluded that he would go on to the Caucasus. All preparations were made to that end--post-horses and escorts bespoken as far as Tiflis. Easy to choose a point where to lie in ambush.

But the Governor of the Crimea, Prince Woronzoff, came, and had so much to tell of the lovely climate and surroundings of the Crimea that the Czar, suddenly altering his itinerary, turned back; and Jakuskin only first knew of the change when he had got on a day's journey before the Czar.

Once more he posted after him until he reached the marshes of the Dead Sea, where the evil spirits of malaria await the traveller. He did not catch up with the Czar until his arrival at Simpheropol, reaching it at the very moment when the whole city was blazing with illuminations in honor of its ill.u.s.trious guest.

But the Czar did not go out again to enjoy the brilliant sight. Tired out, he had gone to bed. Jakuskin learned that the horses were ordered early next morning; the Czar was going to visit Prince Woronzoff's far-famed palace in Jusuff.

Jakuskin caught up the carriages at Bagdar; they were empty. Leaving his carriage to pursue its way along the high-road, the Czar, on horseback, accompanied by his escort, had taken the steep mountain-path of Tsatir Dagh, a distance of some five-and-thirty versts.

The Czar's whole journey was conducted in as capricious a manner as if it had been dictated by some one knowing that he was being pursued, and as if this zig-zag progress from valley to valley by impa.s.sable paths were intended to deceive.

And how many favorable opportunities had Jakuskin missed! The Czar had felt so free from care among the simple Mohammedan populace that he had wandered for hours on foot and on horseback among the exquisite gardens and woods. As he strolled along the lovely valley of Oriander, in full bloom, he had said, meditatively, "Here I would fain spend the rest of my days!" Torturing care, melancholy's dark phantom, found no place here; they were as effectually scared away as were the conspirators. At his physician's earnest entreaty, at length leaving the sea-coast, he turned to the interior of the peninsula, to the whilom capital of the Tartar Sultan, Bakcsi Seraj; and in the palace of the former Ghiraids pa.s.sed the night.

All through that night and the following day there sat at the gate of the palace, beneath the cypresses which have made Bakcsi Seraj so famous, a dervish. That dervish was Jakuskin.

At length he had found the Czar. Wrapping himself in his burnous, he sat and waited until the Czar should come forth. He is certain of his object. In his girdle glistens a good sharp dagger. His hand does not tremble.

And yet once more the Czar escapes him. He pa.s.sed close to him; his dress brushed him by, and yet Jakuskin does not recognize him; for, dressed as a Tartar chief, the Czar had gone out of the palace quite alone, without attendant of any kind. Had he but been attended by a single person Jakuskin must have detected him; but one man alone escapes notice. The Czar had wished to visit the "Valley of Tears," about which the bridegroom of his favorite child had written. This romantic fancy had saved him from the a.s.sa.s.sin's knife. Thence he went, still in the same dress, to a Mohammedan mosque and stayed through a Moslem service.

After which, not returning to the palace, he met his retinue at the Stadtholder's castle. There he found a despatch containing news of the death of King Maximilian of Bavaria, brother-in-law to the Czarina.

Alexander was alarmed. Should this news have reached his wife it might, in her delicate state of health, have seriously affected her. So, giving command to start instantly, he did not return to the palace.

The dervish sitting at the gate awaited his prey in vain. When at length he heard that the Czar had gone, the latter had already got a considerable way towards the other side of the isthmus.

And now the pursuit began once more, and with it came to his mind the saying, "For him who has been chosen by the man with the green eyes it is in vain to whet the knife." He was growing superst.i.tious--his imagination filled with green-eyed spectres.

The Czar pursued his way by the Dnieper, thence through the Nogai Steppe, and over the silk-growing plains of Mariopolis to the sh.o.r.es of the Sea of Azof, where his beloved consort was awaiting him.

Jakuskin followed close upon his track. As he crossed a bridge, after pa.s.sing Orekhov, his horse, stumbling, broke his leg. Jakuskin had to proceed on foot. It was not far from the post-house; thither he went. A horse he must have at any price.

The postmaster led him to the stable.