“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 One – Chapter Seven
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 château, 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 château.
“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 château, 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 One – Chapter Eight
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’Allée 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!”