I met at this time with two adventures which I will now relate, since the first resulted in a friendship which was afterwards—and indeed very soon—of great use to me, and both are essential to the further understanding of Ivan’s bride-choosing.

I was wandering near the DiÉvitchy monastery, which is the convent for the ‘Devoted of the Female Sex,’ and it occurred to me that here, indeed, was a good refuge for any who, like Vera Kurbatof, would escape the chance of being mated with Tsar Ivan against her will. My thoughts continually ran upon Vera at this time: her sweet though firm character attracted me much, and I began to think that I was not far from being in love with her. But if I suspected myself of this weakness, I suspected Mazeppa yet more of the very same, and perhaps it was this that, at the first, drew me towards Vera more strongly than even her own charm; for it had come to this, that I now felt my principal rule of life to be opposition to and rivalry with Mazeppa. I must both obstruct him and oust him; he had offended me more than once, and the Cossacks do not easily forget offence. Moreover, he it was that stood in my way, therefore I should make him feel that I stood also in his.

As to Vera, I knew as well as if he had told me in words that he had determined to make the girl his prey, whether honestly as his wife or in some other way. Therefore, above all things, he must not suspect that I, too, had an eye upon Vera. I would move stealthily; he should neither see nor hear anything that would put him upon his guard in this matter. Mazeppa was a better fox than I; he thought me a fool, however, which should give me an advantage.

Firstly, then, he should be led to believe that I was indifferent to Vera, and that might put him off his guard in speaking to me of the girl. We were still upon friendly terms, he and I, and went as dear companions; but he had deceived and offended me more than once, and I felt not towards him now as I did in the old days.

A youth drove up to the monastery as I passed the door: this was a young Boyar, by his dress, though I did not know him. He clanged the great bell, and I heard him give his name as Rachmanof, and demand to see his sister. There was a parley at the door, and presently he was admitted up some steps and into a little ante-room that lay outside the great doors leading in to the convent.

I lingered—I know not why—wondering whether anything of interest would happen, and almost immediately my curiosity was rewarded, for there came a medley of angry female voices, a piercing shriek or two, a curse and a scuffle, and then appeared young Rachmanof carrying the body of a young nun or postulant (for her hair, I observed, was not shorn), and followed by an old nun and two or three younger ones, who scolded and cried, and called aloud upon all and sundry for assistance.

‘Help! help!’ cried the elder woman. ‘All good people prevent this sacrilege! Here is a villain would carry off one of God’s devoted women. Help her, all who would serve Christ!’

The fellow took no notice of what was said or shrieked behind him, but dragged his struggling burden grimly on towards his troika, a three-horsed carriage, which stood in the road.

Then I stepped forward and took up a position in front of the carriage so that approach to it was barred by my body.

Rachmanof cursed and bade me get out of the way.

‘I will let you pass when you have assured me of your right to take away this lady!’ I said.

‘She is my sister,’ he cried, ‘and as for right, who in the devil’s name are you that question me?’

‘I am one who will at any rate have an answer when I ask for information,’ I said. ‘Put the girl down and let us hear what you have to say.’

The older nun, shivering on the doorstep, cried out: ‘Well done, good Cossack; be brave, for you act in God’s service. This fellow would carry his sister to the Tsar’s terem that she may be inspected among those who are candidates in the bride-choosing, she being one who has entered the exclusive service of Christ, having withdrawn from the world and its wickedness.’

‘It’s a lie!’ cried Rachmanof. ‘She escaped from home but a week since in order to avoid her duty as a Russian maiden—namely, to offer herself for the Tsar’s consideration. She is no nun, her hair is unshorn; she is but a postulant, and has no rights such as this old hag claims for her. Therefore you, sir, whosoever you may be, move yourself out of my way, or it may be that you shall go back among your Cossacks limping.’

‘Put her down,’ I said, ‘and let her go back whence she came. Shame upon you to use force with her! It is an accursed thing to tear a maiden from the service of Christ, if she would so devote herself.’

‘At any rate, it is not your business, but mine; she is not your sister. This is a family matter: it is my father’s wish that she should return to her home, and the Regent’s command that she should attend the bride-choosing, though why I take the trouble to tell thee, Heaven knows. Come, out of my way! I grow weary of carrying this fool of a girl.’

A crowd began to collect, and though some cried, ‘Let him pass with her,’ a greater number shouted, ‘It is a sacrilege; God’s curse will follow those who offend one of His devoted. Take her from him, Cossack; we will support you.’

‘You hear?’ I said; ‘better put her down and make off quickly, for the people are against you.’

Rachmanof cursed and blasphemed, bidding me in the devil’s name move out of his way, but I laughed and stood where I was. Suddenly he dropped his burden, and, grabbing at his sword, attacked me furiously.

The girl doubled back like a startled hare and quickly disappeared, she and her companions, including the old nun, shutting all the doors behind them.

I was ready for Rachmanof, for I expected his onslaught, but his attack was so violent and at the same time so skilful that he almost bore me down at the first rush.

But I steadied myself in a moment or two, and for awhile our weapons clashed without advantage to either side, while the crowd about us shouted encouragement now to one and now to the other.

I hacked Rachmanof’s arm, drawing blood, but it was no worse than a surface wound, though the sight of it roused the spectators to excitement and sent the balance of sympathy decidedly to my side.

‘Smite, Cossack, and spit the bully!’ cried some; and a few replied, ‘For shame! let the Russian win, he is our brother—the Cossacks are thieving rascals, one and all.’

Then suddenly something happened that sent me toppling over, and as I fell a man brought a club down upon my head and I tumbled senseless in the road.

I know now that the driver of Rachmanof’s carriage interfered in his master’s interest and backed the horses in such a way that the carriage came rolling into me from behind, knocking my legs from under me. Then a sympathiser with Rachmanof suddenly ran in and smote me upon the head, and so—for the moment—ended all interest in the matter for me.

When I regained consciousness I found myself in a small room within the convent. This was the tiny ante-room, built out separately from the parent building, a room in which the friends of the nuns might have interviews with their acquaintances; and here I speedily became aware that the old nun (who, I learned, was the Superior of the community) was busily fastening bandages about my head, which—presumably—had been somewhat roughly used.

‘How did I get here?’ I asked. ‘And who has broken my head for me? Was it Rachmanof?’

‘You were overcome by treachery. Yet the victory was yours, as for ever it has been and shall be on the side of those who espouse the cause of right and fight as the champions of Christ; for see, Rachmanof is wounded and has driven away worsted, and his sister is here and safe, thanks to your intervention. Be sure the good nuns shall pray for you, Cossack, for this service, and I also. The prayers of the righteous travel far. You shall prosper in the world and shall have your desires.’

‘You would not promise so glibly if you knew what they are, Mother,’ I laughed. ‘I am very ambitious.’

‘So long as your ambitions do not transgress the law of Christ who is our Master, I shall pray that they may be fulfilled to your comfort.’

‘Oh, I mean no ill to any living soul,’ I said. ‘I would climb, certainly, but that need not be over the backs of others! Pray for me, Mother, that the deceitful may not triumph over me.’ I thought of Mazeppa as I made this request, and when the Superior replied that both she and her nuns would pray heartily that I might prevail in a just cause, against devils, principalities, powers, and I know not what, I felt that I had scored many points against my fox-friend, Mazeppa.

‘Moreover,’ said the good woman, ‘if there be any young maiden in whom you are interested whom you would rather see in this sanctuary than exposed to the degradation of the Tsar’s bride-choosing in the terem, let her come here, in God’s name, and we will take her in and cherish her for the sake of your service this day.’

I laughed and thanked the good soul—‘Though I am a stranger and therefore not likely to desire sanctuary for any maiden consigned to the terem’—yet when I left the convent, presently, to return to my lodging, it occurred to me that the offer of the Superior might, after all, prove useful in case matters should become urgently dangerous for Vera Kurbatof.