During the next two days I matured the plan which should give me the laugh over both of those who had offended me. I am a bad forgiver, and when I have a debt to pay, I like to return to the lender more rather than less than I have received from him. I counted up my grievances against Mazeppa and against Olga Panief. Mazeppa had called me fool before the Tsar Peter, and had tried to set him against me. He had made love to Olga, while I believed her to be true to me, and had allowed her to go to the terem—all this during my absence; he had had me dogged by a spy, and had lied to me; lastly, he would have Vera Kurbatof by fair means or foul—a deadly grievance in my eyes, for none should have her but I.

As for Olga’s sins against me—well, she had flouted me at Batourin; and now—though she had come to offer herself to me, she had gone first to Mazeppa—Lord! there was grievance enough against both; I should have no pity.

Olga Panief came to see me again, and by her foolishness helped much to carry forward that which I had in my mind.

She desired to know whether I had seen Praskovia Soltikof—the chosen Tsaritsa—whether she had concealed her love for me or revealed it—was I sure of her passion for me, and I know not what foolishness besides. As for me, I thought it no wrong to deceive her. I answered her that there could be little doubt of Praskovia’s love, for, though I had seen her this day in the very presence of the Regent and of the Tsar Ivan, at whom she scarcely glanced, she had not hesitated to send me more than once a splendid flash from her eyes whose import was unmistakable.

This praise of her rival’s eyes infuriated Olga.

‘Fool that I was,’ she cried, ‘I should have poisoned the minx in the terem while I had the chance, before she could set the Regent and the Tsar against me. How easily it might have been done—and I never thought of it! Now there is only this way of revenge. You still love me, Chelminsky—come, do you not? I am as fair as I ever was—is it not so?’

‘Oh, as fair, and fairer; that is not to be denied. You are a beautiful woman, Olga; what man could gaze upon you and his pulses not beat the faster?’

‘Well—well, I am yours, if you will. I have always preferred you above the rest, at Batourin or elsewhere, though I have loved to live gaily and to hear the flattery of men; come, you shall have me, you shall marry me here in Moscow, when you will, and then you shall tell Soltikof, or, better still, I shall tell her myself that I have carried off her lover. Does the fool think she shall have the Tsar and thee too?’

‘There is a difficulty, but only one,’ I said, as if perplexed. ‘I was sent for this day by the Regent, not as an honoured guest, but in order to be examined and threatened. Her Highness has discovered in some way that it was I who concealed Vera Kurbatof in order that she might escape the bride-choosing; for this I am in deep disgrace, and under orders to leave Moscow immediately.’

‘Ah, never doubt it, this is not the true reason, this about Vera Kurbatof! The Regent is a fox, and she has seen that Praskovia Soltikof loves thee; this is the cause of thy disgrace. Oh, good, good!’

‘Well, it may be so,’ I said, adopting Olga’s idea, since it fitted well enough into my own fiction. ‘At any rate, I must go or remain in disguise. Therefore, if we marry we must marry in disguise, though, indeed, I see no particular objection to that.’

‘Stay, let me think. No, it matters little. So it shall be. Afterwards I will go to her and will bid her wish me joy of my marriage: she will ask me the name of my lover, and oh! the telling her will atone for much—how she will pale and gasp with rage! Well, then, so be it, dear Chelminsky; fix the hour and the place, and so it shall be!’

So far and so good for my plan, which prospered well. Only let Mazeppa behave as foolishly as Olga, which in his present state he seemed likely to do, and the matter would go smoothly enough.

Mazeppa was sick with love at this time: a sick fox with all his foxiness gone out of him!

When I told Mazeppa of the rich Boyar who was ready to marry Vera Kurbatof if the Tsar should not choose her, I told him the truth as I had heard it from Vera’s own lips. She would no more marry this man than the Tsar, she had said; and I had promised to help her in this as in the other matter. Now I determined this trouble of the Boyar should help me in my present designs. I therefore visited Mazeppa, who had left me yesterday in anger.

‘Mazeppa, I will not quarrel with thee, my friend,’ I said, ‘and to prove my good will, listen to what I have to tell thee. Vera is in trouble about this Boyar. She has asked me for help, but the only way for her out of this quandary is by marrying. This I told her, when I soon perceived that if I would she would be prepared to marry myself rather than stay to be mated with this fat old Boyar. Then it occurred to me that here was an opportunity sent by Providence itself for your convenience. For since I do not desire to marry the wench, while you are sick with love for her, what should be simpler than that you pass for me, and so carry her conveniently away?’

‘Fool! she would know me,’ growled Mazeppa; ‘you speak foolishly for jest.’

‘No, it is no jest, it is a good plan; nevertheless, if you like it not, leave it and the girl also; what is it to me? I am sorry I took the trouble to think out so good a scheme for a lover whose ardour is not equal to the trouble of carrying it out.’

I made a show of departing, but Mazeppa called me back.

‘Stop,’ he said; ‘maybe I spoke hastily. I could, of course, wear disguise——’

‘You must do that in any case, and she also, for safety’s sake,’ said I. ‘She is well known, and might be recognised by the priest.’

‘She will hate me for deceiving her in this way; for, if what you say is true, it is you she desired to wed.’

‘Bah! a woman soon forgives such things, especially when the other—that is I in this case—has deceived her. Moreover, she would not marry me for love, though we are good friends; it is rather the desire to escape this fat Boyar than to gain me. The wench is driven distracted, first by the danger at the terem, now by this. I have left the matter open in case it should please you to do as I suggest, for I shall not do myself as she wishes. If you agree, it is easy for me to return and tell her that I have decided to marry her rather than let the Boyar have her.’

Mazeppa considered awhile.

‘I would rather she married me of her knowledge and free will, which no doubt I should have gained with opportunity; but, as you know, I have determined to possess this woman, and if she is not to be had one way, she must be secured another way.’

‘That is wisdom,’ I said. ‘Do you know a priest who will not ask questions, but will be ready to marry a disguised pair and pocket his fee without desiring to know too much?’

‘I know the very man!’ exclaimed Mazeppa, growing obviously more in love with my plan as it became more familiar to his imagination. ‘I will go forth and settle with him at once, Chelminsky; why should we wait? The girl is in danger. I have no more business in Moscow. By the saints, I will wed her to-morrow and we shall travel together to the Ukraine! After all, my son, you have done well by me!’