"If you speak so angrily I shall not dare to tell you."
"It is not anger but excitement that made me speak so sharply. He whom you love is forgiven everything."
"Really? You do not forbid me to love somebody?"
"If only he is worthy of you. What is his rank?"
"An officer of the Body Guard."
"I will give him a regiment and make him a prince, so that he may ask you in marriage."
"Let me kiss you for that! But do not give him anything, father. Let him remain as he is; I love him for what he is now, and want him always to remain the same. He is more than a prince, more than a general! Higher far than they--"
"Who is it, then?"
"Well, Aleko."
"What Aleko?"
"Oh! do you not know his name? Then stoop down and I will whisper it in your ear."
The Czar drew her to him.
"Would you like to be his wife?"
For all answer the girl looked at him with eyes opened wide and radiant expression.
"Would you like to be his wife?"
"What else could I desire? Poor little foundling as I am, I should be happy indeed to have such a prospect. And we would be so happy together.
Aleko would not murder me for my faithlessness. But how can we let him know? So far, he has not had permission to come here."
"From this time forth he shall."
"But who can tell him?"
"I, myself. I will bring him to you."
"You are as good a father as in one of Bethsaba"s fairy tales."
"I will see myself to all the preparations, will arrange your dowry, settle the day, and command the Patriarch of Solowetshk here to celebrate the marriage."
"Oh yes, in summer, when the roses are out. My bridal wreath shall be of real roses."
"I will have your wedding ornaments made from this nugget of platinum.
And now you really are as happy as I am, are you not?"
"Oh, happier!"
"And will you have this pink silk for your wedding-dress?"
"You have just guessed my wish--that my wedding-dress should be pink.
White makes one look pale, and I am pale enough without that."
"This wine from the Amur we will drink at your wedding-breakfast."
"And I too will taste it. We will drink to each other. "As many drops in this goblet, so many years our love shall last!" Is not that the saying?"
"Then you shall take up your residence on his estate. How strange that I should have just given him back his confiscated property! He shall have his ancestral castle put in order for you to live in, and I will come and visit you constantly."
Sophie clapped her hands with delight, her pale cheeks aglow. Then suddenly the light in her eyes died away.
"But is all this only joking?"
"Joking? Do I ever joke with you?"
"That Aleko should pay court to me, that you should give me to him for wife, that the Patriarch should marry us on a lovely day in the lovely month of roses. Is it not all a dream?"
Alexander, instead of answering, took her in his arms and closed her mouth with kisses.
Yes, poor child, it is real. The only unreal part of it is that before those roses shall have blossomed you will be--
Alexander commanded Pushkin to his presence that day, and made short work of the matter.
"You have caused a young girl to fall in love with you. You must marry her. Her name is Sophie Narishkin. Wait upon me to-morrow evening at six o"clock. I will take you to her, that you may formally ask her hand. You will then visit her daily, and see that you endeavor to cause her no sorrow. Her life hangs on the slightest thread; that thread is in your hands. Beware that you are not the cause of her death."
Pushkin was in a very awkward situation.
The hand of the Czar"s favorite daughter was offered him--to him, the conspirator, the Const.i.tutionalist, the sworn enemy of the tyrannical Czar. He was to ask a girl in marriage who was in love with him, whom he pitied and admired but did not love. That girl"s life hung on the hope of becoming his wife; with the extinction of that hope the feeble spark of life within her would be extinguished. Merely to breathe "I do not love you" would suffice to kill her. And what made his position the more difficult was the circ.u.mstance that at Sophie"s he would be constantly meeting that other girl whom he looked upon as his betrothed, Sophie"s only friend, Bethsaba, to whom he had given his whole soul. Two hearts to be thus stricken and betrayed!
What bitter punishment for past frivolity brought back upon his own head! But there was no turning back. We are in Russia, and when the Czar commands there is no option but to obey.
The next day Alexander himself took Pushkin to Sophie. The betrothal took place in his presence. Pushkin was able to convince himself that the heart intrusted to him was a treasure far above the merits of any sublunary being. He learned that there can be an ideal bliss infinitely more sublime than any earthly enjoyment utterly without sensual pa.s.sion--a magic of sympathy which is not dependent upon the power of possession; that spiritual attraction is stronger even than love. It was to him as though one of those angelic souls already floating heavenward were drawing him thither in its train.
A few weeks later Sir James Wylie said to the Czar:
"Princess Sophie"s health is improving visibly."
"I have found the panacea!" was the reply.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE WEDDING PRESENT