The Green Book Part 52

The concluding set piece of the fireworks was greeted by the crowd without with clapping of hands. The golden rain fell like a shower of stars from the sky.

"Very well. The 20th of September," whispered the conspirators, as they shook hands with each other. Loud peals of laughter were heard among the gay company; the health of the lady of the house was drunk with acclaim.

Upon the smooth surface of the Neva, under the shower of golden rain, gently glided the funeral barge to its destination; the dead lay with face serene; and amid the applause and hand-clapping of the spectators arose the dirge:

"Ah, the day of tears and mourning, From the dust of earth returning, Man for judgment must prepare him."

The psalm and noisy crowd were silenced. The golden sparks died out, the ashes were extinguished. Morning began to dawn. Not a soul was to be seen on the Neva. Every one had gone home to sleep through the gray morning hours; the forenoon in St. Petersburg is good for nothing else.

Even morning here has its special characteristics. The sky is white, and as it is reflected on the calm surface of the Neva it seems like one plate of burnished silver, upon which the long streaks of cloud and the heavy foliage of the trees stand out black as night. Pomp of death in sky and earth!

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

DAIMONA

The mistress of Grusino, who ruled Araktseieff as completely as he ruled the empire, was neither young nor beautiful. She could not have laid claim to beauty even in youth, and her stature was of manly proportions.

There are plain women who can make themselves pleasant; who, aware that they have not the advantages of good looks, lay themselves out to charm by their manner. But Daimona wanted to be beautiful. Her complexion was dark--she painted herself very red and very white; but as her beautifying only extended to her face, leaving her neck its natural hue, it gave her the appearance of wearing a mask. Having no eyebrows, but desiring to obtain them by artificial aid--being, moreover, extremely short-sighted--she usually contrived to paint first one, then the other, higher or lower than its fellow. Her teeth were blackened from much smoking and indulgence in sweets. In addition, she selected the most ridiculous and garish of costumes and colors, always overloaded with ribbons and jewels. When she spoke it was in a man's barytone, which, when agitated, broke into a sobbing squeak.

And this voice of hers, heard all day long without cessation, inspired fear in all around her, for she only opened her mouth to scold and abuse. In her communications to her household she made use of the most singular punctuation; the cane formed a comma, a box on both ears a colon, and the knout a full stop.

And this woman was the delight, the G.o.ddess, the idol, of the all-powerful court favorite. The whole land knew the infatuation of the great statesman for her; whoever aimed at accomplishing any end in St.

Petersburg must first make his way to Grusino; for a good word from Daimona outbalanced a whole wagon-load of letters of introduction and whole sackfuls of merit.

And that good word was never given for nothing. Daimona understood her business; she had a carefully made-out tariff for favors desired: So much for an official post; so much for a concession; so much for an order; so much to be let off from an undesired expedition to Siberia, with or without accompaniment of the knout on the way, on foot, or by sledge. She could tell it all off by heart.

The most aristocratic men and women did not esteem it beneath their dignity, whenever they deemed it advisable, to present themselves with friendly or deferential mien to the mistress of Grusino, who, wedded neither in right nor left handed marriage to the favorite, was originally the cast-off wife of a sailor condemned to Siberia, and afterwards had served her time as a _vivandiere_ to the Ismailowsk Regiment, who had given her the sobriquet of the "squinting Diana."

And, withal, she had completely captivated the clever man before whom a vast empire trembled. Araktseieff was only at his ease when, throwing off the "iron mask," he could be himself again in the arms of the chatelaine of Grusino.

At court, in order to retain his influence, he had humbly, in cold blood, to receive every affront and humiliation, to flatter, to be more courtly and diplomatic in manner than any diplomat; the while raging internally, filled with uncontrollable pride and savage revolt at everything that opposed him. It was of itself a penance to him to have always to converse in French, for it was the only language of the court, and he who spoke Russian ran the risk of being looked upon as a conspirator, or, worse, "member of a learned society." And he hated the French with a deadly hatred! Their language, dress, manners, music, drinks, diplomats, their drama and their philosophy! Then, too, he had carefully to keep watch over every word he uttered and every gla.s.s he put to his lips. Not only lest the contents of the gla.s.s should be poisoned, but for fear of drinking too much! For he knew that the true man spake in him when he was in liquor. Even worse, he had to ape the ascetic; for women's charms were an arch snare, in which his enemies would fain have trapped him. Thus he lived like a recluse, with the appet.i.tes of a Sardanapalus. And when, flying court atmosphere for a brief respite, he could seek refuge at home in his Eleusinian den, and, throwing off the affectations of the French language, dress, and mask, he was free to resume the despised native Russian costume, and talk the good old true Novgorod dialect, in which the republican peasant of those days abused Czar and yeoman alike, he felt himself happy. Then he could vie with his well-mated companion in good round oaths, beat her in the morning, kiss and make friends in the afternoon over the flogging of the peasants, men-servants, and stewards who came in their way, and get drunk together at night. Daimona was a match for him in every form of excess. If he were violent, she incited him to increased violence; if he would vent his wrath on some one, she found him a human object on which to vent it, seconding him with all a woman's refinement of cruelty.

When the master showed his face at Grusino there was a hurrying and scurrying hither and thither, lamentations, groans, and blows; eating and drinking to excess; music and dancing through the streets; battues, dog-fights, mad revels of every description, and at least one _swacha_ (girl market). For the Sultana provided her Padishah with his Feast of Bairam.

In fine, Prince Alexis Andreovitch found in the hideous Daimona his other self; and this made her more precious to him than all the beauties under the sun.

One day that fine fellow Zsabakoff presented himself, with countless bowings and cringings, before the mighty Daimona. Not this time in the torn garments in which he slipped into Pushkin's quarters, but attired as a man of position. He possessed different costumes for the different parts he had to play.

Herr Zsabakoff came to Daimona because he had learned that the Czar was sending an army against the Turks. The fact was known to none, not even to Araktseieff; only one man knew of it, and that was the Czar's groom of the chambers, the same worthy individual who one evening had lent young Araktseieff the Czar's Vladimir star. This worthy groom of the chambers often did his friends a good turn. Thus, for instance, it was solely to do Herr Zsabakoff a kindness that he gave a glance at the Czar's papers while arranging them on his writing-table. What he there saw, no one, not even the ministers, knew; nor did he proclaim it with beating of drums, but he sold the information without more ado. There is no reason for surprise at this. Other times, other manners. At that time it had happened that university professors had been known to distribute to students on one day answers to the questions to be put to them on the next. But in this affair Herr Zsabakoff was not interested to speculate as to whether the h.e.l.lenic champions of freedom would be able to hold Missolonghi until the Russian army had advanced to their aid, but merely whether the Czar's plan that every soldier, besides his customary kit, should carry a flask as a necessary equipment in campaign--consequently three hundred thousand metal flasks would be required. The contractor would make his fortune.

But the honest groom of the chambers had not only communicated this secret intelligence to friend Zsabakoff, but also to many other similar friends, who probably were hurrying on the production of flasks by day and night, for in the course of a fortnight they must be ready.

Naturally it would not be the lowest contract which would obtain the order, but he who best greased the wheels of the Intendant-General's carriage. Herr Zsabakoff now came to the influential lady to entreat her to use her powers with the potent Intendant-General to persuade the Czar to have _wooden_ flasks made instead of the unwholesome metal ones.

Thus, at one fell swoop, would disappear all his metal-flask rivals; Zsabakoff would remain in possession of the field, and could demand his own price. In order to lend emphasis to his request he had brought a little present with him which would exactly become its charming wearer--an antique brilliant _ferronniere_, in the centre of which was an exquisite solitaire of unusual fire.

"Of course that is merely earnest-money," said the mistress of the house. "You are aware that in the case of such a large transaction I go shares in the profit."

"Your Excellency has taken the very words out of my mouth. Depend and rely on it, I am straightforward with you--I always speak the truth. I always do the honest thing. Why, then, should I deny it? According to the price of my contract I gain half a griva on every flask; of that I will make over two copecks to your Excellency."

"I tell you what, you make your contract so that it brings you in a whole griva apiece, and give me four copecks on each."

Herr Zsabakoff agreed to this proposition. But Daimona was none too delicate of her guests' feelings. One of her slaves was a jeweller, and expert in precious stones. Him she sent for, and, in Zsabakoff's presence, had the ornament valued. This was her custom. She kept the slave specially for that office. The expert valued it at one thousand five hundred rubles; but had the centre stone been pure water instead of yellow it would have been worth two thousand.

"You don't understand anything about it!" screamed Zsabakoff. "Yellow diamonds are unique; they are called 'fantaisie.' Besides, it is an antique, and great people like antiques best."

"Quite true. All the same, a pure-water solitaire would be worth five hundred rubles more."

"Do you hear?" quoth Daimona. "Don't forget next time to exchange it for a handsomer and costlier one. And then I prefer it set in gold to this silver setting."

Zsabakoff promised to obey her behests, and took his leave with as much kissing of hands and feet as though he had received instead of given.

Some weeks later Zsabakoff came back more amiable and deferential than the first time.

"My word is as good as my bond," said he. "Instead of that worn-out old _ferronniere_ I bring you a brand-new one. Look at this stone, your Excellency. What a fire! how pure! a perfect Golconda brilliant! It dazzles the eyes like sunlight."

And he went on crying up the new ornament until Daimona gave him back the old one for it.

"You may have this examined. I am positive your goldsmith will value it at three thousand rubles. And, in fact, it cost every penny as much. But I don't grudge it you. All I ask is that you write his Excellency by your special courier, post-haste, that the matter must be at once decided. It is in your own interest. For every field-flask you make four copecks. I am off; I have not a moment to lose."

And once more recommending the flasks to her Excellency's immediate attention, Herr Zsabakoff, rushing out, jumped into his carriage, drawn by three horses, and drove off as if possessed. This time he did not wait for Daimona to summon the jeweller.

Daimona was in haste to write to Araktseieff anent the flasks. But writing with her was a slow process; the pen did not readily obey her untutored fingers. Only when the letter was finished did she submit the jewels to her goldsmith. He, suspiciously examining the _ferronniere_, begged permission to test it in his laboratory; then told her that, to a jeweller, it would be worth about three rubles. The brilliants were only Strasburg paste; the setting plated, not gold.

Daimona, at first, was merely surprised; she could not believe the man mad enough to deceive her in a matter concerning three hundred thousand flasks. It was such a clumsy trick, such an unheard-of affront. A trinket worth three rubles was only the kind of present that would be given to a _vivandiere_.

"Hi, Sc.h.i.n.ko!" screeched Daimona. Whereupon her factotum appeared, a handsome, muscular fellow of the unmistakable gypsy type. "Take a horse at once, take three mounted men with you, and follow the man who just drove off with three horses abreast! Seize, bind, bring him back. See you do not come back without him!"

The next instant the gypsy was on a horse, without saddle, galloping for his life. His three followers could scarce keep up with him. Daimona was satisfied that Sc.h.i.n.ko would soon come up with Zsabakoff.

But within scarce half an hour the three hors.e.m.e.n, with Sc.h.i.n.ko at their head, came back the way they had gone, and behind them a troika in which sat a man alone. But not as a prisoner did they bring him; it was the other way about, he drove them before him. From time to time he kept putting his head out of the carriage, threatening the galloping hors.e.m.e.n so ominously with his stick that, as fast as their horses would go they tore homeward, looking back now and again with scared faces.

"What's the meaning of this?" shrieked Daimona, furiously pacing the hall. "Sc.h.i.n.ko! You hounds! What, run away--you let yourselves be driven back by one man?"

Yes, when it is that "one" man! Arrived at the castle, and flinging back the leathern ap.r.o.n of the troika, he sprang up from his seat, roaring with all the power of his lungs after the runaways.

"You fellows! Just you wait! I'll teach you to molest travellers in broad daylight on the emperor's highway. A hundred lashes of the knout for each of you! I'll have you all fastened to the handle of the pump.

Bojiriks, Bontshiks, thieves that ye are!"

It was "he" the master--Araktseieff himself. Daimona was more furious than ever. Rushing down the entrance steps into the courtyard beneath, she stood, gasping for breath, before the new-comer.

"Why did you hound back my people? They were pursuing a thief who had robbed me! He brought me false stones and stole the real ones. I will have him brought back--the thief."

But the master of the house paid no attention to her. When he was abusing some one, whoever it might be, he had no thought for anything else. His face was crimson as he alighted from his carriage, holding in one hand a stout knotted stick, in the other a flask by its strap.

Daimona thought him informed of the whole affair, so, seizing him by the collar of his cloak, she continued: