"Your Excellency! Paris never had so much difficulty in pronouncing judgment when called upon to award the golden apple to one of three goddesses, as I should have to decide which of the two girls is the lovelier in my eyes. But one thing I _can_ tell you. In the background of that portrait are painted two splendid castles. Those castles, with all the appurtenances thereof, will be part of the bride's dowry. And those two castles are very fine castles."
"Good. I know everything. To-morrow, after dinner, come to me at the fortress for your letters of introduction."
After that Heinrich vanished from the dancing-room, he returned to his own room to devise artful plans for the future.
Every evil inclination was now aroused in his bosom: envy, shame, anger, and slighted love--those four monsters who never close an eye and are alert even when they are asleep.
At dawn of day he was summoned by the Starosta. The old fellow was sitting in an armchair with a mottled purple face and breathing heavily.
"What ails your Excellency?"
"I am waiting for a stroke or for a surgeon to open a vein, and the question is which will be the quicker," replied the Starosta, pleasantly.
"Well, I've come first, you see."
And then he performed the little surgical operation on the Starosta which his constitution demanded after every banquet.
"Well done, my son. You understand your business, I see. What a pity you can't remain at my court here."
"What does your Excellency mean?"
"The Governor has been talking to me. He says you want to go to St.
Petersburg. You are right. But he also advised me to send my own Casimir to the Russian court. There's a great career open there for such youths as he who can read and even philosophize a bit. The Muscovites love philosophy. Well, with us a little of it goes a long way. _We_ always do what the warmth of our hearts suggests to our brains, and don't waste much time in deliberation. Well, go together. I'll send after you the salary I promised you for your official services here, and in return I will only ask you to keep watch over my son, lest any evil befall him."
Heinrich pressed the hand of his benefactor. He understood the allusion.
It was the usual pretext: to advance a person in order to remove him.
The Governor had observed that Casimir had brought the girl back to her mother _by her left hand_. Let the young squire go to St. Petersburg!
After dinner, Heinrich went to town, to the Governor's. He gave him the promised letters of introduction and two passports, one for himself and one for Casimir.
"So Squire Casimir goes with you? Well, my son, I lay it upon your soul to let me know everything that he does or intends to do during his stay at St. Petersburg. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly, your Excellency."
Scarce a year had passed since the two young men had departed for St.
Petersburg, when one night they returned home together to the Castle of Bialystok.
It was a dark night when they arrived, and they came to the gate of the park, which they opened with the assistance of their keys and got into the Castle without the knowledge of the family. They sought the Starosta.
The old man was sitting all alone in his bedroom, in a large armchair.
He was betwixt three tables, one in front of and one on each side of him. On the table in front of him was a large book printed on vellum, containing the history of Lithuania (each chapter beginning with beautiful big illuminated letters), from the days of the first pagan Grand Duke. On the other two tables were placed flasks of all shapes and sizes, and of a religious character, coming as they did from Chartreuse or Benedictine monasteries, not to mention other similar elixirs worthy of equal praise. He was astonished when he saw the two young men enter.
"Has the magic bird griffin brought you hither?" he cried.
"Yes, the bird griffin has indeed brought us hither," said Casimir to the Count. "I mean that griffin who clutches hold of the mightinesses of this world and carries them to the mountains of Kaf."
And then he told his father how a world-illuminating idea had come to birth in the capital of the great Russian empire, which aimed at nothing less than freeing all the nations of the earth from tyranny. A powerful league had arisen, with the Grand Duke Constantine at its head, for the annihilation of tyrants. The members of this league were all the nations of the Russian Empire, and the fifth of these nations was Poland. The sixth and seventh, who did not yet belong to the Russian world-empire, were the Wallachians and the Magyars; but these also were going to join on. Every member of this holy league carried by way of a symbol a copper ring, whose sevenfold monogram contained the initial letters of the seven nations.
Old Moskowski welcomed the idea with great delight.
Everything was ripe for a rupture. The army had been won over to the cause of the Revolution. In the various provinces, administrative details had already been arranged, and to every one his part had been distributed. To Casimir Moskowski was assigned the insurrectionary province of Volhynia. The signal was awaited from St. Petersburg. As soon as the Revolution had broken out and gained ground there, the signal would be given to all the other chief towns, to the South Russians in Kiev, to the Tartars at Kazan, to the Crimean peoples in Bogchiserai, to the Finns in Helsingfors, to the Poles at Warsaw--the Revolution would raise its head simultaneously in all these places. And before long the concerted outbreak would spread from Bialystok to Perm, Odessa, and even to distant Tobolsk.
The Starosta was ravished at the prospect.
"But how about the Governor?" he said.
"Nicholas Eskimov will be seized in the citadel, together with the garrison."
"And then he shall sweep the courtyard of the Palace of Bialystok,"
cried the Starosta, "and that stuck-up little daughter of his, Tatiana, shall wash the crockery in my scullery."
"But all this must be kept secret till the signal arrives from St.
Petersburg for a general rising."
There was only one thing which nettled the old Starosta. As the Holy League had included Volhynia among its provinces, why did they not confide the leadership of the insurrection to the man best entitled to it; in other words, to himself, the father? Why give it to his son?
"Well, you know, you are very old, and drink a great deal."
At last the old man accommodated himself to the new order of things.
After all, if his son became the chief man in Volhynia, the glory of it could not fail to rebound upon him.
From that day forth the two young men remained hidden in the Castle; none knew of their whereabouts.
They were to receive the stipulated signal from St. Petersburg by pigeon-post.
And one day the post-pigeon really did arrive at the Castle.
They found among its tail feathers a thin membrous letter, to whose cipher Heinrich possessed the key.
Heinrich took the letter and unhusked its contents. "Bad news--the very worst," he cried; "the Revolution broke out at St. Petersburg, but was instantly suppressed. All the leaders of the league have been seized.
_Sauve qui peut!_"
"There you are," said the Starosta. "I'm old, and drink too much, eh?
But if I want to do anything, nobody shall stand in my way but myself.
You are young and wise; that is why you can talk so much and do nothing."
"Our sole safety is now in flight," said Heinrich. "The pigeon-post has just brought us the bad news, but as yet the Governor knows nothing about it. He will only be informed of it officially to-morrow afternoon. We have the start of him by two days. We ought to take refuge at once."
"Where?" inquired the Starosta.
"Our way is plain. Austria is quite close to us. Vienna will not deliver up political refugees. There, too, is Casimir's future father-in-law, and he is a man of great political influence. We must take shelter under his wings. Only let the first fury pass away over our heads; the rest will be a matter of high diplomacy."
So the two young men resolved to fly towards the Austrian frontier. The Russian Government would know nothing of their flight thither and their stay there.
A week later the Starosta received a letter written by Heinrich, in which he was informed that the two young men had safely crossed the border and arrived in the Austrian capital, proceeding at once to the Prince's family mansion, where they had been very heartily welcomed.
There was no danger. They had simply denied any participation in the revolution. The ambassadors would make all the rest easy.