The Green Book Part 22

At this critical moment Pushkin felt himself singularly calm. He stood, in fact, as cold bloodedly before his imperial master as he would have done before any ordinary man.

"So I hear you are not satisfied with your Censor?" asked the Czar.

The very form of question he had addressed to Jakuskin!

But Pushkin had a guardian angel--his Muse--who did not suffer him to remain silent and abashed.

"As satisfied as one is with an illness, sire."

"Do not bear him a grudge. He is a well-meaning man, but with certain old-fashioned notions. That is not his fault. I have read your poem; it is very fine. The Censor had struck out some portions; but that you did not allow?"

"No, sire."

"And do not allow their suppression?"

"No, sire."

"You are right. They are the best pa.s.sages in the whole poem. But what are we to do about it? I cannot go against the Censor; for were I to permit what he forbids, the whole inst.i.tution would be overturned; and it is a necessary one. What do you think?"

"Sire, I will take back my poem and burn it."

"No, no. I think we will send it to Leipsic, have it printed there, and then import it."

"And the frontier custom-house, sire?" asked Pushkin.

The Czar smiled; nay, he laughed--he laughed aloud.

"We will have it packed in among my own personal things, which are not examined in the customs. Thus will we bring the poem into the country."

Pushkin trembled in every limb, like a schoolboy who has undergone an examination.

"Stay a moment!" exclaimed the Czar. "It will be more profitable to your poetical studies were you to prosecute them in the country. It will be better for you to pa.s.s the summer on your estate of Pleskow. You will find you can write better there."

That meant the restoration of his confiscated estate. Moved to tears, Pushkin's voice failed.

"Tell no one of what has pa.s.sed between us. I do not wish it spread abroad."

"Only to one woman, sire, whose silence is as perfect as is her singing."

"She knows it already," returned the Czar, with a smile. He had smiled twice.

How instantly the brightness of that smile had changed the temperature!

How immediately the ice and snow in it had thawed! As Pushkin rejoined the circle he was greeted on all sides by friendly faces beaming with congratulation. Distinguished court ladies shut up their fans; they no longer felt the heat. Pushkin could not but respond to the crowd who claimed acquaintance. He was wise enough to tell every one that the Czar had restored his Pleskow estates to him on condition that he gave up writing poetry, which raised him at once on a pinnacle. For be it known, not to write poetry at all is a negative merit; to write bad poetry and give it up is some slight merit; to write good poetry, and yet give it up, is a positive and great merit--in high society.

Even Princess Korynthia had the hero of the hour called up to her in order to ask him why he had not recognized her just now. Women alone are capable of such a piece of audacity, and men are obliged to take it from them.

Pushkin and the Princess conversed pleasantly for some little time, and he was introduced to Bethsaba, to whom he said many foolish things.

One woman only, Zeneida, he had no courage to approach. With the divination of a true poet, he felt that she was the only creditor in all the world from whom he must keep aloof; for that which he owed to that creditor he was unable to pay.

Nor had he any news to impart. Had not the Czar said, "She knows it already"?

The Czar had smiled. The smile had lightened all hearts. The melancholy feeling of monotony which was weighing over society was at once dispelled. But it was but an autumnal ray--a ray of evening sunshine on a rainy day.

But he to whom this turn of things brought no content was Araktseieff.

Pleskow is not the end of the world! If Pushkin went no further than that, Fraulein Ilmarinen's intrigues would suffer no reverse. They could meet as often as they wished. He could not understand how it had all come about. That the Czar favored Fraulein Ilmarinen he well knew; and that Zeneida had been working to save her beloved poet, that, too, he knew. But this was not sufficient to have put the Czar in the very opposite frame of mind from that which he, the all-powerful favorite, had striven to bring about. Some other hand must have been at work here.

Now among those whom the unaccustomed ray of sunlight had moved to creep out of their dark corners was young Araktseieff.

Forgetting his father's advice to keep well in the shade, and not thinking that the sparkling order on his breast was a borrowed one, and that its owner was among the party there a.s.sembled, he suffered himself to be enticed to the front, and joined the set of young men who were paying court to the ladies.

Suddenly he became aware that the Czar was bearing down upon him.

He was about to make way respectfully for his Majesty, but the Czar, going directly up to him, said:

"What fine diamonds those are you are wearing, Araktseieff!"

He who was thus addressed replied, with audacious humility:

"Sire, I wear them by your Majesty's favor."

"Remarkable!" exclaimed the Czar. "Those brilliants are the very counterpart of the ones in my Vladimir star."

Junker Jevgen began to think that cheek alone would carry him through here.

"Sire, some diamonds resemble each other wonderfully."

"And yet I am inclined to think that the star you are wearing is mine, and that in my pocket I happen to have a Vladimir order bearing your name on the ribbon."

"Mercy, sire!" implored Jevgen, with shaking knees.

"Silence! You surely would not implore mercy here before the whole court. Go to your quarters. Keep the order you are wearing; I wear it no more, since it has been worn by you. Away with you!"

"A bad adviser led me on, sire." The young n.o.bleman was ready to betray his father.

"I do not ask who advised you. Go to-morrow morning to your father.

There you will learn what is in store for you."

After this scene the Czar abruptly left the concert-room and withdrew to his own apartments, the former icy expression on his face. He did not even return the greetings of the surrounding guests.

Araktseieff, who had watched the scene from a distance, followed the Czar. He was not admitted, but commanded to await his Imperial Majesty's pleasure, and the all-powerful favorite awaited it until two in the morning.

Then the Czar entered the audience-chamber, carrying a roll of papers in his hand.

"What say you, Alexis Maximovitch," said he to his favorite. "Was it not a good idea of mine to inst.i.tute the _posta sofianskaja_?"