Potemkin sprang from the sofa with a howl of rage.

"What! Orloff summoned by Von Gortz; he who--"

"Who was enticing your highness with vain promises, had suggested to the czarina the imperative necessity of recalling Orloff, with the express intention of holding you in check."

"What an infernal plot! But it bears the stamp of Panin's treachery upon its face," muttered Potemkin, while with hasty strides he walked up and down the room.

Cobenzl watched him with a half smile, and taking up the ribbon of the Black Eagle, he passed it through his hands by way of pastime.

After much going to and fro, Potemkin stopped, and his countenance was expressive of courage and resolve.

"Count Cobenzl, I know what are the plans of Austria, and they shall be sustained. Your interests are mine, for it is no longer a question of Austria or Prussia, but of Potemkin or Orloff! You see, therefore, that I am sincere; but Austria must sustain me, and we must tread our political path together."

"Austria will go hand and heart with your highness."

"Austria must sustain me, I say, and our password shall be, 'The Conquest of Turkey.' That is the spell by which I rule the czarina. My enemies often fill her mind with distrust of me, but that great project shields me from their weapons. Still I am in danger; for here in Russia, we look neither to the past nor to the future; the excitement of the hour reigns absolute. A good subject never knows how to regulate his conduct. If I were sure of blame for doing evil, or of approbation for doing good. I might know what to expect from the czarina. But when a sovereign is the slave of her passions, all ordinary modes of deducing effect from cause fall to the ground. [Footnote: Potemkin's own words.

Raumer, vol. v., p. 573.] I live in a whirlpool, from which I can devise no means of escape; but, by the grave of my mother, this life shall cease! I shall resume my power over the empress, and I shall trample my enemies underfoot, were they to take shelter under the throne itself!"

While Potemkin spoke thus, he clinched his fist, and his herculean arm was raised as if to fell his invisible enemies.

"Whosoever be the foe, Austria will be at your side," said Cobenzl.

"I believe you," replied Potemkin, with returning calmness, "for it is your interest to be there. I know what you desire. First you supplant Prussia with Russia, and that entails a coolness with France, Prussia's dearest friend. Then you also dissolve with France, and we both court the alliance of England, so as to isolate France and Prussia from European politics. The plan is good, and will succeed if you are discreet."

"How discreet?"

"You must weigh well your behavior toward the czarina. I dare not advise the emperor, but let me advise you. You have often occasion to see the empress. Before you see her consult with me as to the topics of your discourse with her, and so we shall always be enabled to act in concert.

Avoid ail dissimulation; let her perceive that you leave craft to the lovers of Prussia. Flatter as often as you see fit; flatter Catharine, however, not for what she is, but what she ought to be. [Footnote: Ibid.]

Convince her that Austria is willing to further her ambition, not to restrain it, as Prussia has always done. Do this, and in a few months Austria will have changed roles with Prussia, and your enemies and mine shall be overthrown together."

A knock was heard at the, door, and an officer entered.

"How dare you interrupt me?" cried Potemkin, stamping his foot.

"Pardon, your highness. The private secretary of the Emperor of Austria has orders from his sovereign to hand a note to Count Cobenzl in your highness's presence."

"A very singular order. But we will gratify the emperor. Admit his majesty's messenger."

Gunther was introduced, who bowed low to Potemkin, passed on, and delivered his note.

"From his majesty's hand," said he. "Your excellency is to read it at once. It requires no answer." Then, bowing deeply, the secretary backed out of the room, and the discreet portiere fell, preventing the transmission of the slightest sound.

"Read," said Potemkin, "for doubtless the emperor has good reason for his haste."

Count Cobenzl broke the seal; but instead of a note for himself, a sealed dispatch within, bore the address of the prince. The count presented it at once, and Potemkin eagerly tore it open. He seemed electrified by its contents; so much so that Cobenzl started forward to his assistance, exclaiming: "Gracious Heaven, what has happened? Your highness is ill!"

"No, no," said Potemkin, "but read this, that I may be sure I do not dream."

Cobenzl took the letter and read:

"My dear Prince: To win your friendship, I have neither flattery, decorations, duchies, princesses, nor promises for the future; convinced as I am that your highness is able to reach the summit of your desires without help from other mortals. But I have something to impart which will prove the sincerity of my intentions toward you. An hour ago, Count Orloff arrived in St. Petersburg, and he is now in secret conference with the czarina. "Joseph II"

"I was right; it was not my secret apprehensions which conjured those spectral letters," cried Potemkin; "they are really the writing of the emperor, and Gregory Orloff is here."

He sprang forward like a bull rushing to the attack.

"Gregory Orloff is with Catharine, and I cannot slay him at her feet.

But stay," exclaimed he, exultingly, and then his words resolved themselves back into thought. "My key--my key--I will force her to hear me. Count," continued he aloud, "I beg of you to excuse me, for I must go at once to the empress. Tell the emperor that if I weather the storm that is bursting over my head, I will prove to him my eternal gratitude for the service he has rendered me this day. Farewell! Pray for me; or if you like better, go home and get up a fine drama for the day of my burial."

"Nothing less than Voltaire's 'Death of Julius Caesar' would suit such an occasion; but God forbid that your highness should come to harm! I hasten to do your bidding."

Potemkin, trembling with impatience, stood watching Count Cobenzl, as with his mincing gait he tripped out of the room, and turned again at the door to make his last bow. Scarcely had the portiere fallen when he sprang across the room, and darted toward his sleeping-chamber. Near his bed stood an escritoire. He flung it open and taking thence a casket filled with gold chains, diamonds, and other jewels, he turned out the contents with such violence that they flew over the room in every direction. He found what he sought; it was a little secret compartment.

He pressed the spring and it opened, revealing nothing but a key! But Potemkin snatched it up, and, unheeding the treasures worth a million, that lay scattered about the room, he passed into a little dark anteroom, thence into a corridor, up and down staircases, forward, forward, rapidly forward!

Finally he reached the end of a long, narrow corridor. Nothing here was to be seen save a blank, white wall, which separated Potemkin's dwelling from the palace of the czarina. But in the corner of this wall was a scarcely perceptible recess. He pressed it with his finger, when the wall parted, revealing a door--the door which led to Catharine's own private apartments. Potemkin's key unlocked it, and he darted through the opening--on, on, until he reached another door, which also yielded to his key; and then, breathing freely, he looked around the cabinet of the czarina, and exclaimed, "I am saved!"

CHAPTER CXXXVI.

THE EMPRESS CATHARINE.

The magnificent state-apartments of the empress were silent and empty, for she had given out that she needed solitude to work, she would hold no levee to-day. But she was not alone; she was in a cabinet which led to her bedchamber; and with her was Count Orloff, her former lover and the murderer of her husband.

The empress lay half buried in the depths of a crimson velvet couch; and her large blue eyes were fixed with an expression of tenderness upon Orloff, who sat opposite to her. In spite of her fifty years, Catharine was a very handsome woman. Age had respected her fair, imperial brow, and the fingers of time had relented as they passed over it. Her eyes were as bright and beautiful as ever; her lips as red, and their smile as fascinating, as in the days of her youth; and in her bosom beat the passionate, craving, restless heart of a maiden of seventeen. This heart was as capable of love as of hate, and her graceful person as fitted to inspire love as it had ever been. Just now Catharine was anxious to please. She thought over the golden hours of her youthful passion, and tried to win a smile from Orloff's stern face. She forgot in him the man who had placed a bloody crown upon her head, she saw but the paramour who had wreathed her brow with the myrtles and roses of requited love.

They had spoken of indifferent things, but Catharine had grown silent, and the silence was becoming embarrassing to Orloff.

"Your majesty commanded my presence," began he.

Catharine raised her beautiful white arm from the cushion where it lay, and motioned him to approach.

"Hush, Orloff," said she, in a low voice. "No one hears us, do not call me majesty."

"My revered sovereign," stammered Orloff, "I--"

"Sovereign! Do I look as if I were your sovereign, Orloff? No, no, I am here as the woman who is not ashamed of the love we once cherished for each other. The world says that I am not pious, and verily I believe that Voltaire has corrupted me; but I have one steadfast faith, and I cling to it as fanatics do to Christianity. My religion is the religion of memory, Gregory; and you were its first hierophant."

Orloff muttered some unintelligible words; for truth to tell, he did not quite comprehend the vagaries of his imperial mistress. He was a man of deeds, fit for action and strife; but there was neither imagination nor poetry in his nature. He saw, however, that Catharine smiled and beckoned. He hastened forward, and bending the knee, kissed her hand.

"Gregory," said she, tenderly, "I sent for you to talk of the prospects of your son."

"Your majesty speaks of Basil Bobinsky?" asked Orloff, with a smile.

"Yes," replied Catharine, "of your son, or rather, if you prefer it, of our son."

"Your majesty acknowledges him, and yet you have thrust his father from your heart. You sacrificed me to a man whom I hate--not because he is my successful rival, but because he does not deserve the love of my empress; because he is a heartless spendthrift, and a wretch who is ready to sell his sovereign's honor at any moment, provided the price offered him be worth the treachery. Oh! it maddens me when I think that Gregory Orloff was displaced for a Potemkin!"