Meanwhile Count Rostopchin, ex-Governor of Moscow, had had a difficult task to perform. General Kootoozof, making no secret of his intention of abandoning Moscow, unless the stand at Borodino should meet with unexpected success, had promised the Count three days notice before the French should be free to enter the city; but Rostopchin received warning only twenty-four hours before the arrival of the first batch of foreign soldiers. During those four and twenty hours much was done. The archives, with many treasures from churches and palaces were removed to a neighbouring city. The arsenals were thrown open in order that whosoever desired might arm himself. The prisons were also opened, the fire-engines were removed or destroyed; the greater part of the population crowded out of the city, taking with them—as far as possible—their possessions. Only a few enthusiasts remained, patriotic souls or religious fanatics who would not leave the Holy City of Russia to the licence of the invaders.

Thus Napoleon found a deserted Moscow, deserted by all but a grim remnant of resolute, desperate, Russia-loving, foreigner-hating patriots.

Among them was Vera Demidof, whose motives for remaining were, however, decidedly mixed.

During the months of anxiety preceding the arrival, first of the Russian army and afterwards of the French, Vera had shown herself one of the most patriotic of Russian women. She had been surprised by her own fierce patriotic passion. She had gone daily among the people, inflaming their minds against the foreigners, helping—like many of the ladies in Moscow—to enrol every man of fighting age and capacity among the drujina or militia, which had started into being in response to the manifesto of the Tsar. She remained behind when the great majority of the population left in the hope that she might even yet find work to do for Russia's sake. She was a member of a patriotic guild, formed at this time to watch and to protect the beloved city, given over into the hands of her enemies.

If any one had told Vera that she had remained in Moscow partly at least in the hope of seeing a Frenchman, one Paul de Tourelle; of assuring herself that he was alive and well and that he still loved her, perhaps she would have admitted the first portion of the indictment, but certainly not the last. Vera was, as a matter of fact, anxious to see Paul, if possible, but for a different reason. Whether he loved her or not was, at this moment of patriotic fervour, a matter of supreme indifference to her, for, indeed, she more than suspected that she had altogether lost that partiality for the young Frenchman which she had believed to be a preliminary to love; perhaps her patriotic hatred of the invaders of her country had scotched all private feelings for individual French persons; perhaps there were other reasons. At any rate Vera was anxious to see the man in order to make sure of herself; it was just as well, she thought, to know one's own heart. In any case she would be a patriot first. If she found that she still preserved some affection for this man, it might be a comfort to her wounded patriotic spirit to offer her private feelings a living sacrifice. At least she could do that much for Russia, if there was little else a woman could do.

On the day of the evacuation of Moscow Vera, sitting at her window and watching the turmoil and movement of the people in the streets below, heard the footsteps of someone running rapidly down the road. She recognised Sasha Maximof, who entered the house panting and excited.

"Vera, what is the meaning of this?" he said; Sasha was greatly agitated—"I hear you are determined to remain in Moscow—have you thought of the dangers from lawless French soldiers, the uselessness, the——"

Vera laughed. "Dear Sasha," she said, "give me time to say 'thank God you are alive and safe'; remember that I have not seen you since July and now it is September, and we have heard nothing of you!" Vera was, as a matter of fact, more relieved and grateful on this account than she quite realised; she had worried much on Sasha's behalf, chiefly—as she had assured herself—because of the anxiety of his mother, who had received no news of her son, but largely also on her own account, for at his last visit to Moscow she had learned, and made no secret of the fact, that young Maximof was an immensely improved person, and that she really quite liked and admired him.

"As for remaining in Moscow, I think I can take care of myself; I speak French so easily, you see, that I shall pass as a Frenchwoman in case of need; for the rest, I am not at all afraid, and I belong, moreover, to the patriotic guild and am bound to watch for opportunities to serve our beloved Russia."

"There can be none, Vera, believe me, that a woman can safely employ. For God's sake be persuaded to leave the city."

Vera shook her head.

"No, Sasha, I am not to be persuaded. I shall be safe. I am well armed, and these two faithful old servants who have chosen to stay with me are armed also; we shall have soft answers for any who may come to pillage, but—as you know—this street is too far from the centre of the city to be in much danger of pillaging parties. However this is foolish talk. Even if there were danger, ten times more than you suppose, I should still remain in Moscow."

"I do not like to think, and yet it has been suggested to me," said Sasha, flushing, "that though you are known to be both patriotic and fearless, there may be other reasons for your desire to remain in town. You have many friends among the French; possibly you are anxious to see or hear of them, to know that all is well with them."

"Yes, that may be true," said Vera, looking Sasha full in the eyes. "One may feel an interest in personal friends even though they fight in the ranks of the enemy."

"Of course," Sasha hesitated, "you will understand, Vera, that in saying this I had no arriÈre pensÉe; I mean, I was not hinting that you should tell me anything that is—is not my business."

"Yes, I understand," said Vera. "There is nothing to tell. I am interested to know whether—certain people—are alive; but that is not my only reason for remaining in Moscow. Where are you quartered?"

"With Barclay de Tolly's command. I shall not be far away—send for me, Vera, if you should need advice or assistance; I wish to God I could stay, but of course I cannot leave the colours."

"We have horses in the stables and arms in the house and—and God will protect His people, Sasha; the taking of Moscow is not the end of the campaign; we shall see what we shall see. Yes, I wish also that you were with us; but you are doing your duty as I believe I am doing mine. No one can do more than that!"

"No; well, I must go, Vera. I wonder whether we shall ever meet again; there are many dangers still in store for both of us; our fate lies in God's keeping. Before I go I will say that whether we live or whether we die, I know now that you are the only woman in the world for me. I shall pray daily for your welfare, and that your love, wherever it may be given, may in the end make for your lasting happiness. May I kiss your hand?"

Vera gave her hand and Sasha bowed over it; she kissed his forehead, Russian fashion, and he her hand.

"We will—we will think only of Russia now, Sasha," she said; "there will be time to talk of other things when her trouble is over."

Afterwards Vera went into the city to watch, from a safe corner, the entrance of the French soldiers. She saw Paul de Tourelle march in with his regiment, and she recognised also Henri d'Estreville, her own cousin, who rode in with his troop of lancers, looking very pale and ill. Paul seemed well and sound and rode with all that air of aristocratic hauteur which was natural to this undoubtedly splendid-looking youth. Vera made a close examination of her feelings as she watched him and found that the dominating sentiment seemed to be one of anger that he, too, should be among these detested ranks of the successful enemies of her country and of indignation that he should assume so swaggering an air. Still, she was glad that he was alive and well, and admitted to herself that he looked handsome enough.

When she safely reached her house, late in the afternoon, a great surprise was in store for her.

Sasha Maximof met her in the entrance hall, having opened the door for her. He was in plain clothes; the first time since her childhood that she had ever seen him out of uniform. Sasha smiled radiantly.

"Thank God you are safe!" he exclaimed. "Vera, what a risk you have run in going out into the streets!"

Vera flushed with joy to see him and even laughed aloud in pure relief and contentment, though she made a show of attributing her mirth to his appearance.

"Sasha!" she cried—"you in plain clothes—oh, how funny!—explain, what is the meaning of this metamorphosis?"

"I have got leave of absence," he replied, "on the plea of protecting ladies of my family; I can stay a while; I shall be in the house if you will permit me, Vera, and I will join your patriotic league. Look—is that some of your work?" He led Vera to a window and pointed towards the commercial portion of the city; a thick smoke rose from the quarter indicated. "Our friends have begun early!" Sasha laughed exultingly. "Is it Rostopchin's agents, think you, or the patriots?"

"The patriots," Vera replied. "We shall burn all Moscow, Sasha, it is the principal part of our programme. I told you the campaign is not yet over. How long will the troops occupy a burning city? A week? Two weeks? And then comes Kootoozof's opportunity; Platof and his Cossacks; the Drujina of Moscow, and all you good regulars; you shall fall upon them like terriers upon the rats. Now do you understand why we of the league must remain in Moscow?"

"I see—I see!" said Sasha, trembling with excitement. "Yes! there is work to be done in the city, you are right, Vera; but it is not woman's work; it is work for desperate men, Vera, not for fair girls."

"My friend, the men are occupied in sharpening their swords, in drilling, in preparing for the running of the rats when the haystack is burned. We have no men in Moscow, excepting the old and the infirm."

"Oh, I am glad I came, I am glad I came!" said Sasha, his teeth chattering with the agitation of the moment.