FROM THE FRENCH OF ALEXANDRE DUMAS’ ‘LE MAÎTRE D’ARMES.’

The death of the famous dog Sutherland—thus named after the Englishman who had made a gift of it to the Empress Catharine II. of Russia—nearly caused a tragic mistake, in so far as it nearly cost the donor, a celebrated banker, his life. The occurrence took place at St Petersburg.

One morning, at daybreak, Mr Sutherland, the gentleman who had presented the dog to the Empress, and who was consequently a favourite with that august personage—was suddenly awoke by his man-servant.

‘Sir,’ said the footman, ‘your house is surrounded with guards, and the master of the police demands to speak to you.’

‘What does he wish with me?’ exclaimed the banker, as he leaped from his bed, somewhat startled by this announcement.

‘I know not, sir,’ answered the footman; ‘but it appears that it is a matter of the highest importance, and which, from what he says, can only be communicated to you personally.’

‘Shew him in,’ said Mr Sutherland, as he hastily donned his dressing-gown.

The footman departed, and returned some minutes afterwards with His Excellency Mr Reliew, upon whose face the banker read at the first glance some formidable intelligence. The worthy banker, however, maintained his calmness, and welcoming the master of the police with his usual urbanity, presented him with a seat. His Excellency, however, remained standing, and in a tone the most dolorous which it was possible to assume, said:

‘Mr Sutherland, believe me when I assure you that I am truly grieved to have been chosen by Her Majesty, my very gracious sovereign, to accomplish an order, the severity of which afflicts me, but which has without doubt been provoked by some great crime.’

‘By some great crime, Your Excellency!’ exclaimed the banker. ‘And who then has committed this crime?’

‘You, doubtless, sir, since it is upon you that the punishment is to fall.’

‘Sir, I swear to you that I know not of any reproach with which to charge myself as a subject of our sovereign; for I am a naturalised Russian, as you must know.’

‘And it is precisely, sir, because you are a naturalised Russian that your position is terrible. If you had remained a subject of His Britannic Majesty, you would have been able to call in the aid of the English consul, and escape thus perhaps the rigour of the order which I am, to my very great regret, charged to execute.’

‘Tell me then, Your Excellency, what is this order?’

‘Oh, sir, never will I have the strength to make it known to you.’

‘Have I lost the good graces of Her Majesty?’

‘Oh, if it were only that!’

‘Is it a question to make me depart for England?’

‘Oh! no; even that must not be.’

‘Mon Dieu! you terrify me. Is it an order to send me to Siberia?’

‘Siberia, sir, is a fine country, and which people have calumniated. Besides, people return from it.’

‘Am I condemned to prison?’

‘The prison is nothing. Prisoners come out of prison.’

‘Sir, sir!’ cried the banker, more and more affrighted, ‘am I destined to the knout?’

‘The knout is a punishment very grievous; but the knout does not kill.’

‘Miserable fate!’ said Sutherland, terrified. ‘I see indeed that it is a matter of death.’

‘And what a death!’ exclaimed the master of the police, whilst he solemnly raised his eyes with an expression of the most profound pity.

‘How! what a death! Is it not enough to kill me without trial, to assassinate me without cause? Catharine orders, yet’——

‘Alas! yes, she orders’——

‘Well, speak, sir! What does she order? I am a man; I have courage. Speak!’

‘Alas! my dear sir, she orders—— If it had not been by herself that the command had been given, I declare to you, my dear Mr Sutherland, that I would not have believed it.’

‘But you make me die a thousand times. Let me see, sir, what has she ordered you to do?’

‘She has ordered me to have you STUFFED!’

The poor banker uttered a cry of distress; then looking the master of the police in the face, said: ‘But, Your Excellency, it is monstrous what you say to me; you must have lost your reason.’

‘No, sir; I have not lost my reason; but I will certainly lose it during the operation.’

‘But how have you—you who have said you are my friend a hundred times—you, in short, to whom I have had the honour to render certain services—how have you, I say, received such an order without endeavouring to represent the barbarity of it to Her Majesty?’

‘Alas! sir, I have done what I could, and certainly what no one would have dared to do in my place. I besought Her Majesty to renounce her design, or at least to charge another than myself with the execution of it; and that with tears in my eyes. But Her Majesty said to me with that voice which you know well, and which does not admit of a reply: “Go, sir, and do not forget that it is your duty to acquit yourself without a murmur of the commissions with which I charge you.”’

‘And then?’

‘Then,’ said the master of the police, ‘I lost no time in repairing to a very clever naturalist who stuffs animals for the Academy of Sciences; for in short, since there was not any alternative, I deemed it only proper, and out of respect for your feelings, that you should be stuffed in the best manner possible.’

‘And the wretch has consented?’

‘He referred me to his colleague, who stuffs apes, having studied the analogy between the human species and the monkey tribe.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, sir, he awaits you.’

‘How! he awaits me! But is the order so peremptory?’

‘Not an instant must be lost, my dear sir; the order of Her Majesty does not admit of delay.’

‘Without granting me time to put my affairs in order? But it is impossible!’

‘Alas! it is but too true, sir.’

‘But you will allow me first to write a letter to the Empress?’

‘I know not if I ought; my instructions were very emphatic.’

‘Listen! It is a last favour, a favour which is not refused to the greatest culprit. I entreat it of you.’

‘But it is my situation which I risk.’

‘And it is my life which is at stake.’

‘Well, write; I permit it. However, I inform you that I do not leave you a single instant.’

‘Thanks, thanks. Pray, request one of your officers to come, that he may convey my letter.’

The master of the police called a lieutenant of the Royal Guards, delivered to him the letter of poor Sutherland, and ordered him to bring back the answer to it immediately. Ten minutes afterwards, the lieutenant returned with the order to bring the banker to the imperial palace. It was all that the sufferer desired.

A carriage stood at the gate. Mr Sutherland entered it, and the lieutenant seated himself near him. Five minutes afterwards they were at the palace, where Catharine waited. They introduced the condemned man to her presence, and found Her Majesty in convulsions of laughter.

It was for Sutherland now to believe her mad. He threw himself at her feet, and seizing her hand in his, exclaimed: ‘Mercy, madame! In the name of heaven, have mercy on me; or at the least tell me for what crime I have deserved a punishment so horrible.’

‘But my dear Monsieur Sutherland,’ replied Catharine with all the gravity she could command, ‘this matter does not concern you at all!’

‘How, Your Majesty, is it not a matter concerning me? Then whom does it concern?’

‘Why, the dog of course which you gave me, and which died yesterday of indigestion. Then in my grief at this loss and in my very natural desire to preserve at least his skin, I ordered that fool Reliew to come to me, and said to him: “Monsieur Reliew, I have to request that you will have Sutherland immediately stuffed.” As he hesitated, I thought that he was ashamed of such a commission; whereupon I became angry and dismissed him on his errand.’

‘Well, madame,’ answered the banker, ‘you can boast that you have in the master of the police a faithful servant; but at another time, pray, I entreat of you, to explain better to him the orders which he receives.’

The four-footed Sutherland was duly promoted to a glass case vice the banker—relieved.