As the Regent’s carriage drew near, all eyes being fixed upon it, and principally upon the beautiful young Tsaritsa-elect, I saw Olga push her way so as to be at the very door of it when it should draw up at the steps; and as the wheels stopped she darted forward. Scarcely conscious of what I did, I called aloud, ‘Soltikova, beware!’

I did not suppose that anyone had heard my cry, for a thousand other voices were raised at the time in greeting to the great persons; but Galitsin stood up as Olga was about to strike, and seized the girl’s wrist. In her hand was a Tartar dagger, which, but for Galitsin, would certainly have found its sheath in Praskovia Soltikof’s breast.

Then there was commotion indeed! The Tsar Ivan awoke suddenly from his lethargy and screamed.

‘It is the mad one,’ he cried; ‘take her away, cut her down, Streltsi, kill her—kill her!’

Praskovia Soltikof had grown pale, but she kept her wits. ‘Fear nothing, Ivan,’ she said. ‘This poor maiden would strike me, not thee; she is mad for jealousy. Do not kill her, Streltsi. Bethink thyself, Olga, only one can win; it is the will of God. I have done thee no injury except to gain the prize before thee.’

‘Is not that enough, she-devil?’ shrieked Olga, struggling in the hands of the Streltsi who had seized her. ‘You have gained the prize not by merit but by wicked arts——’

‘I have won because the Tsar has chosen me,’ said Praskovia, and here the Regent interrupted.

‘Listen, people,’ she cried to those who stood near, ‘and judge for yourselves how wisely the Tsar has decided who it is that shall sit with him in the highest place! This other is a rival whom the Tsar has rejected, and for envy she would murder the bride of the Tsar; yet her victim intercedes for her! Such mercy is Christ-like! What shall be done with this mad thing?’

‘Kill her!’ cried the Tsar, and some of the people shouted the same. ‘Spare her and let her go, as the Soltikova has said,’ cried others; and I found myself crying lustily with these. ‘Spare her—she is one of God’s unfortunates—madness is no crime!’ and so forth.

‘It shall be as the bride of the Tsar has said,’ cried Sophia. ‘Take her away, Streltsi, but do not hurt her: we will find a place for her later. The new Tsaritsa has taught us all mercy, people; cry “Oora” for the Tsar’s bride—let her have a place in your hearts!’

Now at first I was surprised at the clemency of the Regent, but when I thought over it I discerned that her motives were not the simple promptings of a Christian charity, but political. This marriage of Ivan’s was the most important matter for her. If Ivan had refused to marry, her regency must end with Peter’s awakening, which could not be delayed for ever. But once Ivan should have set a Tsaritsa at his side who should presently provide heirs to the elder male line, why, let Peter awake or sleep, it was all the same. Sophia would continue in her regency on behalf of Ivan and of the heirs of his body. Moreover, it was most desirable that the wife of Ivan should be well liked by the people; for though between Ivan and Peter, if it came to choice, there could scarcely be room for doubt which would be the accepted of the nation, yet if Ivan’s Tsaritsa were to become very popular the choice might go the other way for her sake and her children’s. Therefore Sophia, for whose headpiece even the wisest of her day were ever ready to show respect, was quick to take advantage of Praskovia’s kindness on this first occasion, by letting the people see and understand what had passed in order that the new Tsaritsa might take good root in their hearts.

As for Praskovia Soltikof, she could afford to be generous and merciful. Moreover, it may be that she also had an eye this day to the people!

And for Olga Panief, she at least had cause to offer up thanks to her saint, for I think there could scarcely have been a score present who did not expect to see her cut in pieces by the swords of the Streltsi when it was discovered how great a crime she would have committed.

Tsar Peter was greatly diverted by this episode. Presently, when the two brothers were together in the portico of the Cathedral, I observed tall Peter smite weakly Ivan upon the shoulder so that the elder youth winced and screwed his face with the pain, though he smiled quickly back upon Peter, from whom he would gladly bear anything, so great was his love and admiration for him.

‘Tell me, brother, how near came that Tartar to being the Tsaritsa?’ the big one asked, laughing.

‘She was one of three,’ said Ivan, not so softly but that I overheard, though I knew not whether Praskovia Soltikof did so. ‘She was one of three—Vera Kurbatof, whom I chose but who would have none of me; this mad devil, whom Sophia would have chosen for her good presence; and Praskovia here, who chose herself. She brought also a recommendation from thee.’

Ivan would always converse with Peter, though rarely with others.

‘Lord, brother, she would have made a fine Tsaritsa, this mad one,’ laughed Peter. ‘What a choice was thine, Sophia!’

‘She looks a Tsaritsa,’ said Sophia, frowning; ‘how should I know a devil lurked within her? Few wear their dispositions on their sleeves that others may take a warning, though, Lord knows! there are such even in our family!’

‘Which means, in plain words, that there is a devil in me for all to see!’ laughed Peter.

And the saying pleased him so well that he went among his friends telling what her Highness said and what he said, and so forth.

As for Olga Panief, she was sent to the DiÉvitchy monastery, and a pretty handful—I should say—the new Superior there must have found her; indeed, as I happen to know, Olga soon earned for herself the misery of solitary confinement, as a punishment for wildness and foolishness such as the rest of the nuns could not tolerate.

But I was all afire to make sure of my beautiful Vera Kurbatof, and therefore I gave Tsar Peter no peace until he should have redeemed his promise to set this matter in order, if he could do so, to my advantage.

Now Peter was as yet but in his seventeenth year, though a giant in size, and Kurbatof—that wealthy Boyar—had hitherto scarcely given this Prince a thought; for it was clear to all people that Ivan being the elder, and Sophia being full sister to Ivan and but half-sister to Peter, it was probable she would retain the Regency and Ivan the Tsarship. Peter was nil; this joint Tsarship, indeed, had been a concession to the strength of the Naryshkin faction, but the day would come when its influence would die out and disappear in the strength of the Regent’s faction.

Therefore Kurbatof was inclined to think little of Tsar Peter, and though he received him with respect, he was determined to let the youth see that he (Kurbatof) would be no man of his.

Now Vera’s suitor, the fat old Boyar of ten thousand souls, or serfs—for the Russians measure their riches by the number of their serfs—was in the house when Tsar Peter came with me to speak to the Boyar, Vera’s father.

‘Who is this?’ asked Peter, before he had time to salute Kurbatof. ‘Is this the old Boyar who is thy rival, Chelminsky? Go, sir, for shame! You are too old and too fat to have so fair a bride as this Vera! Go, I say, and leave room for thy youngers and betters!’

The Boyar was proud, being rich and powerful, and the young Tsar’s outspoken manner offended him.

‘I am a suitor for her hand, Highness,’ he said; ‘if her father chooses to——’

Peter strode towards the Boyar; he seized him by the collar and shook him. ‘Wouldst thou feed upon the fairest flower in the garden, fat slug?’ he said. ‘Go—crawl away and hide thyself—or I will crush thee with my heel! She is too good for thee, swine, in spite of all thy money bags!’

The Boyar panted with fear and surprise: he would have spoken, but he gazed upon the Tsar’s face and dared not. Then he took his hat and cloak and went out quickly.

‘Now, Boyar,’ said Peter, ‘show me this wench. I bring you a good suitor for her! This fellow Chelminsky may one day be Hetman of the Cossacks and call me brother; think of it!’

‘Let him come back when he is Hetman,’ growled old Kurbatof.

Whereat the Tsar laughed. ‘Well, Chelminsky,’ said he, ‘let that answer suffice for thee. Maybe thou and the Hetmanate are not very far apart——’ At this moment Vera herself entered the room, and the Tsar ended his speech with a long-drawn ‘Oh!’