* 
 
 K RUSSIKN 
 
 STO RY
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 She raised her eyes to his face.
 
 MICHAEL 
 
 AND 
 
 THEODORA 
 
 A RUSSIAN STORY 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BORDER SHEPHERDESS," " BOW OF ORANGE 
 RIBBON," "THE PREACHER'S DAUGHTER," ETC.
 
 Copyright 1892, 
 liy BKAIJLKY & WOODRUFF. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ( 'llAPTFH 
 
 I 
 
 PACK 
 
 5 
 
 u 
 
 II .... 
 
 27 
 
 n 
 
 Ill 
 
 54 
 
 a 
 
 IV .... 
 
 70 
 
 u 
 
 v 
 
 89 
 
 u 
 
 VI . 
 
 115 
 
 (I 
 
 VII. 
 
 140
 
 TWO CHILDREN WITH ONE 
 HEART. 
 
 I. 
 
 TT was Theodora and Michael Bazaroff 
 -* who made this story. Holding it 
 sacred, I shall not alter it. All is here 
 as it happened. 
 
 Theodora and Michael Bazaroff were 
 the children of the Prince Ivan Bazaroff, 
 and of his wife, the Princess Nadia. The 
 family were exceedingly rich, and of the 
 noblest strain in Russia, and Prince Ivan 
 had spent his youth in close relations with 
 the Czar and his court. His prosperity 
 was so great, and his position so lofty, 
 that it seemed impossible he should ever 
 know the meaning of poverty or disgrace. 
 
 Yet in a single night misfortune over-
 
 6 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 took him. An enemy spoke a word or 
 two in the Czar's ear, and the accusation 
 was so plausible and so likely that, with 
 out charge and without trial, Prince Ivan 
 and his beautiful wife were cast into 
 prison, and from thence secretly removed 
 to the awful land of Siberia. They were 
 taken away at midnight, without knowl 
 edge of each other's destination, and with 
 out any opportunity of saying farewell 
 to their children. 
 
 Then Prince Sergius Bazaroff came in 
 the Czar's name as guardian of the estate, 
 and of his young nephew and niece, and 
 all the people trembled at his dark face 
 and violent manners. Prince Sergius had 
 long hated his brother ; he had gladly 
 been the instrument of his ruin, and he 
 rejoiced in it. Was it likely, then, he 
 would love Theodora and Michael? 
 
 He did not, indeed, openly and fla 
 grantly ill use them. They had the food 
 and clothing, and the service suitable to
 
 Michael and Theodora. 7 
 
 their rank. But he taunted the children 
 with their parents' degradation ; he de 
 scribed to the innocent little ones the 
 intolerable sufferings they were enduring, 
 and when they wept at his words he 
 called their tears "treason," and terrified 
 their childish hearts with cruel suspicions 
 and dreadful threats. So day by day 
 they trembled in his presence, or listened 
 in fear to his terrible voice, as he went 
 raging about among his slaves, or sitting 
 at his dinner-table until after midnight, 
 shouting out wild Tartar battle songs. 
 
 One, two, three comforts had these 
 little children. First of all, they loved 
 the good God truly with all their hearts ; 
 and the good God knows how to comfort 
 those who love him. Second, they loved 
 each other with a strong, unselfish affec 
 tion. Michael thought first of all of his 
 sister's happiness ; and Theodora, with 
 purest prayers and tenderest love, clung 
 to her brother Michael. Third, they were
 
 8 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 both very faithfully loved by those who 
 had them in their care. Theodora's nurse, 
 Matrina, taught her how to knit and em 
 broider, and how to behave herself like a 
 Russian princess ; and she talked to her 
 continually of her absent father and 
 mother, and reminded her when the hours 
 to pray for them came. Very frequently 
 she would say, 
 
 " Now, we will talk a little of the good 
 Prince, your father. How brave he was ! 
 How truly pious ! How noble and how 
 handsome ! When he was mounted on 
 his black horse when he wore his white 
 and gold uniform there was no prince 
 in all Russia that was fit to hold his 
 stirrup. Indeed this is the truth. You 
 yourself, dear Princess, can remember ? " 
 
 " Alas, alas, Matrina ! I remember till 
 my heart breaks with sorrow." 
 
 "And then, also, how lovely was the 
 most excellent Princess, your mother ! T 
 shall be happy to my dying day, only
 
 Michael and TJieodora. 9 
 
 to have seen her. Have you memory of 
 that night when she came to you in a 
 saraphan of silver brocade, buttoned with 
 sapphires? Her lovely white arms were 
 covered with jewels, but she took you 
 from your little couch and carried you in 
 them. She held you close to her breast ; 
 she kissed you, and said a prayer over 
 you, when you fell asleep again. Only 
 your guardian angel could love you 
 better than your sweet mother ! that I 
 know well." 
 
 Theodora remembered that night. She 
 was only four years old then, and she was 
 ten now, but she had never forgotten the 
 starry look of her beautiful mother. 
 
 " I had a fever that night, I think, Ma- 
 trina," she answered, " for I can feel yet 
 the coolness of her soft hands ; and often 
 my heart stands still to listen to the coo 
 ing of the low words she said on my very 
 lips. And there was a little song she 
 sang. I can never forget the melody. I 
 would that I knew the words."
 
 io MicJiael and Theodora. 
 
 " The words, my dear Princess, were 
 the words of the 'Star Song.' It was the 
 eve of the Epiphany, and, as you know, 
 all Russia was singing the song that 
 night." 
 
 " We never sing it now, Matrina." 
 
 " We sing not at all now, dear Prin 
 cess. We only weep." 
 
 " Say the words to me, Matrina. Let 
 me hear them again." 
 
 " Listen, then : 
 
 1 stars ! stars ! 
 Dear little stars ! 
 All ye, O stars! 
 Are the fair children, 
 Ruddy and white, 
 Of one mother. 
 Send forth, O stars ! 
 On the blessed Epiphany, 
 Send forth through the christened world, 
 Proposers of happiness.'" 
 
 " Was that indeed the Christmas song 
 my mother sang? Alas, Matrina, there is 
 no feast of Epiphany or Christmas now 
 for us ! I asked Uncle Sergius once about
 
 Michael and Theodora. 1 1 
 
 it, and he said ' we were not worthy to 
 keep the feast.' '' 
 
 In this way the little Princess talked to 
 her nurse of her beloved parents. For it 
 was a comfort to speak with Matrina of 
 their affection and their beauty, to weep 
 with her over their misfortunes, and then 
 to go away into solitude and pray with 
 all her heart for The Deliverer. 
 
 Michael was two years older than his 
 sister; a tall, brave boy, with a bright, 
 handsome face, and a true, loving soul. 
 It troubled him that he had only twelve 
 years ; for his hope by day and his dream 
 by night was to be able to justify his 
 father and mother, and bring them back 
 to their home and their people, in honor 
 and triumph. But what can a boy of 
 twelve years old do, a boy under con 
 stant surveillance and control, not per 
 mitted to go outside the boundaries of 
 the estate ? Fortunately, Michael had for 
 his tutor a very wise and good man, one
 
 12 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 who had loved his father, and who be 
 lieved firmly in Prince Ivan's innocence. 
 
 " If I could only free my father and 
 mother. If I could convince our good 
 father, the Czar, how true and loyal they 
 are, I could lay down my life ! Yes, I 
 could lay down my life with joy ! God 
 knows it." 
 
 " To do such things, Michael," an 
 swered the tutor, " one must needs be 
 wise in mind and strong in body. I have 
 planned for you a course of study. It 
 will take you four years." 
 
 " And when I have finished my course, 
 what then, master?" 
 
 " Then you will handle a sword, and 
 fight the battles of your mother, Russia." 
 
 " So ; and when I have taken a strong 
 fortress, or won a great battle, I will go 
 to the Emperor and say, ' Oh great and 
 good Czar ! how is it possible that I am 
 the son of a traitor ? ' I will plead with 
 strong words for my father and my
 
 Michael and Theodora. 13 
 
 mother. I shall not be afraid. But, alas, 
 the years go slow; my father and my 
 mother they suffer, they may die. It is 
 too long to wait and do nothing ; and the 
 Czar is so far away." 
 
 "But, Michael, a little prayer goes 
 farther away, even to the heaven of 
 heavens. Have you forgotten your good 
 brother, Jesus ? How often he pities and 
 does for us that thing which is to us 
 impossible." 
 
 Yes, Michael admitted this hope and 
 this consolation, and he lifted his trusting 
 eyes as if to invoke help. Also, he put 
 back his shoulders and stretched out his 
 supple young arms, and longed with an 
 almost impossible loyalty to bring back 
 his banished by some labor of his own 
 body or some sacrifice of his own de 
 sires. 
 
 One afternoon in November the boy and 
 his tutor were talking of these things in 
 a low voice. It had been a day of fear
 
 14 MicJiael and Theodora. 
 
 and sadness. Prince Sergius had been 
 quarrelling all throughout it with a 
 stranger a bad, common-looking man 
 dressed in a sheepskin coat. Mr. Cecil, 
 the tutor of Michael, and Matrina, the 
 nurse of Theodora, had kept their charges 
 close and quiet. It was a great thing to 
 be forgotten by Prince Sergius when he 
 was raging in his passions. As for the 
 stranger, he did not appear to be frightened 
 by the Prince's temper. They could hear 
 his loud, rough voice contradicting and 
 asserting, and sometimes also a riotous 
 laugh full of scorn and defiance. Matrina 
 was on the alert and very thoughtful. 
 
 " The man is not quite a stranger," she 
 said in the afternoon. " I have seen him 
 here before. Yes, I have ; and the scribe 
 Smoloff has told me that he bayed back at 
 Prince Sergius' ten words for one. Who 
 can a man be that would dare to do that ? 
 I have seen the dogs set on a visitor for 
 far less."
 
 MicJiael and Theodora- 15 
 
 A little later she went down to the 
 great kitchens, and when she returned she 
 said to Mr. Cecil and the children, 
 
 " Smoloff says the man is a wonder. 
 Smoloff saw him walking up and down 
 the room, talking like one who will have 
 his say. Yes, indeed, and so at his ease 
 about it, that he stopped as he wanted to, 
 and took nuts from the table and cracked 
 them between his big finger and thumb as 
 if they were no more than egg-shells. 
 And when he did so the Prince's eyes 
 were like flames, and he looked at him 
 from under his eyelids as if he were 
 a dog ready to tear open the fellow's 
 throat." 
 
 " Was it Russian they spoke ? " asked 
 Mr. Cecil. 
 
 " Not so ; it was French, and Smoloff 
 knows not a word of French ; only he 
 heard the Prince Ivan's name more than 
 once ; yes, he could say he heard it very 
 often. That may mean something, then,
 
 1 6 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 again, it may mean nothing ; only the 
 good God knows " 
 
 Every one was weary with the fear 
 and turmoil of the visit. All day long 
 there had been the trampling of horses 
 and baying of dogs, threats, orders, and 
 hurrying of terrified women and men, 
 until the palace felt as if a great storm 
 had passed through it. But towards the 
 close of the afternoon, Prince Sergius and 
 the stranger went out of the house to 
 gether. The stranger was then smiling, 
 and he made as if he would speak fairly 
 and affably, but the angry Prince looked 
 neither to the right nor the left, nor yet 
 at his visitor ; neither did he answer him 
 one word. On the contrary, his face was 
 black as a thunder-cloud, and the very 
 dogs but looked at him, and then sneaked 
 out of his path and his sight. 
 
 From the schoolroom it was easy to 
 watch the two men until they passed into 
 a thick belt of pine-trees and were lost
 
 Michael and Theodora. 17 
 
 in the shadow they made. Then Mr. 
 Cecil said, " Come, Michael, let us go 
 into the fresh air ; it will calm and 
 strengthen us, and there is yet half an 
 hour before the darkness." 
 
 Matrina also rose at his words and 
 brought Theodora her pelisse of fine fox 
 fur, and her cap and muff, and they went 
 out together to the esplanade in front of 
 the house. The snow was deep, but a 
 path had been cleared for walking, and 
 with rapid steps they followed it. The 
 odora and Matrina were in front ; 
 Michael and his tutor walked behind 
 them. 
 
 The prospect was inexpressibly dreary. 
 Except for the pine belt, it was one great 
 level of snow, silent, mournful, monoto 
 nous. A few black huts were scattered 
 here and there, but they looked like dead 
 homes, for there was no sight or sound of 
 human life near them. The children 
 talked of whatever concerned them most
 
 1.8 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 at the moment : Theodora of the bag she 
 was making, Michael of his studies, and, 
 in a low voice, of his uncle's anger. 
 
 Suddenly there was a little swirling 
 wind. It blew a bit of white paper off 
 the white snow straight to Michael's feet. 
 He stooped and lifted it, and as his tutor 
 talked to him, he glanced at the words 
 written there. They were written in 
 French, but he knew enough of French 
 to perceive in a moment the importance 
 of the paper which the wind of God had 
 blown to him. 
 
 He became pale and breathless. With 
 out a word he gave the paper to his 
 teacher. The emotion of both was in 
 tense. They went silently and rapidly 
 back to the schoolroom, and then Mr. 
 Cecil, as he looked steadily into Michael's 
 face, cut in the collar of his own coat a 
 little slit, and hid the paper within it. 
 This act was scarcely accomplished when 
 Theodora and Matrina entered.
 
 MicJiacl and TJieodora. 19 
 
 " It is so very cold ! " said Matrina. 
 " Besides which, we heard the Prince 
 talking in the wood. And then, we per 
 ceived you also had felt the cold. After 
 all, the stove and the stone roof are better 
 than the wide world when it is winter 
 weather." She was talking thus as she 
 removed Theodora's pelisse and cap and 
 gave her the bag she was making. 
 
 Michael stood trembling by the window. 
 Mr. Cecil perceived his emotion and feared 
 it. He said with an assumed indifference, 
 " Quick, Michael ! Let us finish the 
 problem we left unsolved." 
 
 " It is so long until I am a man," re 
 plied Michael ; for he was answering his 
 own thought, and not his teacher's sugges 
 tion. 
 
 "But, in the mean time, Michael, the 
 problem is the best and wisest thing. A 
 slate and pencil might even be a bulwark." 
 
 Michael understood. He took his slate 
 and sat down at a desk by the side of
 
 2O Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Mr. Cecil. They were both apparently 
 deeply interested in some arithmetical 
 question, when Prince Sergius suddenly 
 opened the door. Usually, his approach 
 could be heard afar off; and this sudden 
 and quiet visit was not an accident. He 
 had, indeed, discovered the loss of the 
 paper found by Michael, and he wished 
 to see whether those he feared most had 
 become its possessor. 
 
 He strode into the room and looked 
 with keen, fierce eyes around him. Theo 
 dora was plaiting ribbons for her bag. 
 Matrina sat at her side, sewing. Over 
 the slate and book Michael and his tutor 
 were bending. All rose to their feet and 
 stood waiting his orders ; all, with bowed 
 heads and lowered eyes, except the tutor, 
 who gazed out of the window with a 
 melancholy and indifferent air. Sergius 
 looked most keenly at the women. He 
 was sure if anything had been discovered 
 their faces would betray it.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 2 1 
 
 But Theodora and Matrina knew noth 
 ing to betray, for Michael walked behind 
 them, and they had neither noticed the 
 blowing paper nor yet seen Michael stoop 
 and pick it up. Their faces were abso 
 lutely innocent of any unusual emotion, 
 and Prince Sergius perceived readily that 
 they were totally unaware of his loss. 
 Though always brutal to the native, the 
 Russian noble compels himself to give an 
 ostentatious politeness to any foreigner in 
 his service ; therefore, Prince Sergius 
 bowed to the tutor as he said, 
 
 " Mr. Cecil, do me the favor to take 
 again your chair. I am sure your pupil 
 is idle and impertinent. Do not spare 
 the lash. A taste of the whip will be 
 good for him. Father and son both need 
 it. The Emperor was of my opinion also. 
 Pray let me know if he gives you any 
 trouble. I shall be well pleased to under 
 take his punishment myself." And he 
 looked at Michael with a steady savage-
 
 22 Michael and Tlicodora. 
 
 ness, drawing together his light, lowering 
 eyebrows as he did so. Michael did not 
 speak, did not lift his eyelids, but Prince 
 Sergius saw with delight that the child's 
 cheeks burned, and that his small hands 
 were passionately clinched. He smiled 
 scornfully at the futile anger, and then 
 turned to Matrina. 
 
 " Hark thee, Matrina ! Come here ! 
 Listen ! Pack the girl's clothing. To 
 morrow the Countess Vasil comes for her. 
 The saints know I am well rid of such a 
 trouble. Dost understand ? " 
 
 " I understand, Prince ; and I obey." 
 
 "Be off then." 
 
 With the words he turned on his heel, 
 bowed to Mr. Cecil, and left the room. 
 For some minutes afterwards there was a 
 deep silence. No one spoke, no one 
 moved, they all felt as if it was full of 
 danger to glance at each other. But as 
 Prince Sergius did not return, they grad 
 ually ventured to resume their seats and
 
 Michael and Theodora. 23 
 
 to look around ; for each heart was full 
 of new and overwhelming feeling. In a 
 day or two what changes might begin ! 
 Theodora was going to a strange life, a 
 life full of splendor and action ; perhaps 
 also full of love. The Countess Vasil 
 was her mother's only sister ; surely she 
 must love a child so desolate and so 
 bereaved ! 
 
 But Theodora trembled and feared. 
 She did not remember her aunt. She 
 was going among strangers. She was 
 going to leave Michael. Prince Sergius 
 had not even said that Matrina was to 
 accompany her. She could not imagine 
 life without Matrina. Her mother had 
 gone away one day from Bazaroff to St. 
 Petersburg, and she had never come back 
 again. The poor girl dreaded the un 
 known evils of the great world ; for 
 though Bazaroff was full of terror, there, 
 at least, she had Michael and Matrina. 
 
 Before her altar that night Theodora
 
 24 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 knelt a long time. When she rose her 
 face was shining and happy. " Her angel 
 has spoken to her," thought Matrina ; 
 and Matrina was not wrong. To an 
 innocent girl the angels whisper many 
 sweet things ; they delight to guard her 
 from all evil ; to bear her pure prayers to 
 heaven ; to keep her ever unspotted from 
 the world. 
 
 In the mean time Michael and his tutor 
 sat silently over the large porcelain stove. 
 Their thoughts were too great, too full of 
 fear and sorrow for much speech ; beside, 
 much speech might be dangerous. But 
 in short, whispered sentences, with long 
 pauses between them, they came at last to 
 a decision. 
 
 " Theodora must be told," said Mi-. 
 Cecil. "The letter must be trusted to 
 her. *It is the best we can do, Michael, 
 and also there will be no time lost." 
 
 " That is everything, teacher. I wish 
 that I had wings, I would fly to St.
 
 Micliael and TJicodora. 25 
 
 Petersburg, to the good Czar. He 
 should know all in one hour." 
 
 " Theodora will find the light time. 
 She is brave as well as prudent. Her 
 aunt will be of the greatest advantage, 
 for Countess Vasil has a great deal of 
 influence, and she adores her sister. I am 
 sure she will not lose a moment." 
 
 " If I could go myself ! Cannot I go ? 
 The letter came to me. Dear master, can 
 I not go ? " 
 
 " My boy, you are a prisoner on this 
 estate. If you cross its boundaries, your 
 uncle, your own serfs, would have the 
 right to shoot you." 
 
 " How, then, can Theodora leave Baza- 
 roff?" 
 
 " I have no doubt her aunt had to 
 procure the Czar's permission for her to 
 do so." 
 
 " It is terrible ! What can the Emperor 
 fear from me? I love our good father. 
 I would fight for him. I would die for
 
 26 MicJiael and TJieodora. 
 
 him and for Russia. To be treated like 
 a traitor to my own country and my 
 Emperor, it is very hard ! " 
 
 " But when the day breaks the shadows 
 flee away. Michael, I see the dawn. I 
 believe your father and mother will come 
 back to their home and their children and 
 their people. They will come back and 
 find their honor unstained, and themselves 
 beloved and unforgotten. There is an 
 hour of great joy at hand. Let us say no 
 more to-night. Try and sleep. You must 
 learn to be calm. If you lose control of 
 yourself, your heart will tell your secret. 
 Prince Sergius will read it in your face, 
 see it in your carriage, feel it in a hundred 
 impalpable impressions." 
 
 But the boy sat musing and planning, 
 his face growing finer and finer, as 
 
 " He built with neither hammer nor stone 
 A grand fair castle of his own."
 
 II. 
 
 " Manifold are the changes 
 Which Providence may bring ; 
 Many unhoped-for things 
 God's power hath brought about." 
 
 Euripides. 
 
 r I "'HE next day Theodora was sitting in 
 the schoolroom with Matrina, when 
 the Countess Vasil's sleigh, with its chim 
 ing bells, its gay postilions, and liveried 
 horsemen in attendance, drove with a great 
 clatter into Bazaroff courtyard. Theo 
 dora let her work fall and flew to the 
 window overlooking the courtyard. She 
 was but a girl of ten years, and she could 
 not control the curiosity and the. tender 
 yearning for affection which made the 
 advent of this dear sister of her mother's 
 a very possible deliverance for her. Ma 
 trina pitied her too much to interfere,
 
 28 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 and Mr. Cecil and Michael looked with 
 questioning, interested faces at the watch 
 ing girl. 
 
 " I see her ! I see our aunt, dear 
 Michael !" she cried. "She is beautiful, 
 splendid ! more than all, I am sure she is 
 like our dear mother! Prince Sergius 
 advances to meet her. She kisses his 
 cheek. They have spread the velvet 
 carpets on the courtyard for her to tread 
 upon. She is coming into the house! I 
 am sure she is speaking of us ; I saw 
 her lift her face to these windows ! Oh, 
 how gracious she is ! I wonder if to-day 
 we shall see and speak to her ! " 
 
 Mr. Cecil said, " It was unlikely. So 
 great a lady would require all kinds of at 
 tentions before she would recover from the 
 fatigue of her long journey." He advised 
 the children to pursue their usual duties, 
 and not to expect too much from a 
 relative who had not seen them since 
 they were but babies. He himself was
 
 Michael and Theodora. 29 
 
 strangely melancholy and quiet, and his 
 mood so far influenced the children as to 
 make them apparently resume their ordi 
 nary occupations. 
 
 A great sadness and silence fell on all. 
 The room was as quiet as if its occupants 
 were asleep. For a little while Theodora 
 strained her hearing to listen for her 
 aunt's footsteps. Surely she would come 
 and speak to them. But it seemed as if 
 the huge palace had never before been so 
 quiet. She grew hysterical in the still 
 ness ; she felt that noise of any kind 
 would be a relief. 
 
 " Why is everything so quiet ? Why 
 does no one come here? Neither Muzza, 
 nor Karma, nor Peteroff. Why does no 
 no one come, Matrina?" she asked in a 
 nervous, irritable voice. 
 
 "It may be the Countess wishes to 
 sleep, or perhaps the servants are in the 
 great kitchen being courteous to the 
 servants of the Countess. It is not
 
 30 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 often they see any company from the 
 world outside, dear Princess. Yes, that 
 is undoubtedly the case ; they are all 
 busy talking and eating in the kitchen." 
 
 "Ah, Matrina! if I had been only a 
 little serf, I could have run to meet my 
 aunt. I could have said, ' Dear aunt, you 
 are beautiful ! you are the likeness of my 
 beloved mother ! I love you ! ' But, alas ! 
 I am a miserable princess ! I must wait, 
 and be still, and go nowhere I want to 
 go, and say nothing I want to say. I 
 wish, then, I was a happy little serf." 
 
 " Mademoiselle the Princess must be 
 content with the place in which God has 
 put her," said Mr. Cecil. He spoke with 
 an air of authority, and Theodora lifted 
 her work and began to embroider, while 
 the tears dropped down upon the stitches. 
 Michael had his book open and his eyes 
 upon it ; whether he read the words or 
 not, Mr. Cecil did not inquire. He was 
 glad to see that the boy had sufficient
 
 Michael and Theodora. 31 
 
 control over himself to affect the calm 
 ness and patience it was very unlikely he 
 felt. 
 
 Mr. Cecil was writing a letter ; Matrina 
 stood by the window overlooking the 
 great plain. She was longing to go to 
 Moscow with her dear Princess, and her 
 anxiety did not permit her to work. For 
 half an hour these four all suffered. Each 
 minute appeared to be twenty minutes ; 
 they could not believe they were going so 
 swiftly away, and no one was cominy. 
 The painful tension soon exhausted itself. 
 A sombre silence fell on each ; they could 
 no longer wonder, or hope, or make ex 
 cuses ; they were smitten with an intense 
 apathy. At that moment the two chil 
 dren were sick with despair ; for children 
 do not reason much. Alas, alas! they 
 can only feel ; and they feel so bitterly ! 
 They were sure they were forgotten by 
 their aunt. Unkissed, unloved, unspoken 
 to, both of them felt broken-hearted.
 
 32 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Michael was proud and angry, and his 
 cheeks burned. Theodora wept as she 
 mechanically put her needle through and 
 through her wearisome embroidery. 
 
 Then, without a sound, the door 
 opened, and the Countess Vasil, with a 
 face glowing with love and joy, entered. 
 She looked at Michael with a smile ; she 
 stretched out her arms to Theodora ; in a 
 moment both children were folded within 
 them ; she was kissing the tears off their 
 cheeks, and whispering all the sweet 
 words she could remember upon their 
 lips : " My beloved Michael ! My dar 
 ling Theo ! My Nadia's children ! My 
 own little ones ! Did you think I had 
 forgotten you? Ah, my dear ones, I have 
 had my difficulties ; and not the least 
 with Prince Sergius. He would see all 
 my papers ere I might see you, and he 
 was so long, so long, I thought he was 
 reading them one word in one minute. 
 Mr. Cecil, I have the honor and pleasure
 
 Michael and Theodora. 33 
 
 to see again Prince Ivan's friend. Give 
 me your hand, sir, faithful one that you 
 have been ! " 
 
 Thus she was talking to all at once, not 
 even slighting Matrina, whom she kissed 
 on her cheeks. Joy had come into the 
 sorrowful place ; it was possible now to 
 breathe in the room without desiring to 
 weep. 
 
 But it was evident her visit had been 
 made without the knowledge of Prince 
 Sergius. She said a few words privately 
 to Mr. Cecil, and intimated the desirability 
 of caution by quoting with a peculiar 
 emphasis the proverb, " ' When the big 
 bear is sleeping, the little bears must play 
 without making a noise.' And I shall 
 run off now, and when I come again we 
 will not remember that I have been before. 
 That will be most prudent, children." 
 And the children understood from her 
 words that she had visited them secretly. 
 
 Mr. Cecil opened the door and passed
 
 34 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 outside with her a moment. " Countess," 
 he said, "you will hear great news soon. 
 I pray you take God in council and move 
 quickly." 
 
 " I know not what you mean, Mr. 
 Cecil." 
 
 " The child will tell you when you are 
 beyond Bazaroff. It is too great a matter 
 to talk about here." 
 
 " Alas ! what can a child do ? " 
 
 " Alone, a child can do little ; with 
 God, a child may do everything. Coun 
 tess, is not a farthing candle enough to 
 set St. Petersburg in a blaze ? " 
 
 "Indeed that is true, but not likely, 
 sir. However, it is always the unlikely 
 thing which happens, and whatever is to 
 be done, you may say to yourself, ' Coun 
 tess Vasil will do it with all her heart 
 and friends, and with all her wealth.' " 
 
 With this assurance they parted, and 
 Mr. Cecil had no other opportunity for 
 conversation with the Countess. She paid
 
 Michael and TJicodora. 35 
 
 only one more visit to the schoolroom, and 
 that was in the company of Prince Sergius. 
 At this time she was a different woman. 
 She kissed the children with a formal 
 affection, and then began to complain ol 
 the manner in which Theodora was dressed 
 and of her want of polite behavior. Prince 
 Sergius made some apologies, but she in 
 terrupted him with the assertion, " How 
 ever, Prince, it is now time to improve. 
 The Princess Theodora must at least have 
 the education of her rank. She is truly 
 a Bazaroff." 
 
 " To be sure, you are exactly right, 
 Countess," Prince Sergius replied, sulkily. 
 " And I am most thankful to the saints 
 and to you if you rid me of a charge I 
 have little liking and less skill for. 
 Listen, Matrina ! To-morrow the Princess 
 will leave for Moscow. See thou that all 
 is ready for the journey." 
 
 " And I, noble master ? " 
 
 " Thou also wilt go to Moscow. Dost 
 understand ? "
 
 36 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Matrina bowed to the Prince's feet, nor 
 was she quite able to hide her sense of 
 joy and triumph in the approaching 
 change. She loved Theodora, and she 
 rejoiced because she was not to be parted 
 from her, and she hated the monotony of 
 life, its loneliness and gloom in the sad 
 palace of Bazaroff. She immediately be 
 gan to pack and to prepare ; also to feel a 
 trifle sentimental about Michael and her 
 old companions. 
 
 As for Theodora, she spent every mo 
 ment with her brother talking of the past, 
 planning for the future, and she was not 
 a little mystified at Michael's confident 
 prophecies of a speedy end to all their 
 misfortunes ; for it was not until the 
 very last hour Mr. Cecil trusted her with 
 the letter, and even then he chose rather 
 to give her strict directions, than to 
 explain these directions to her. 
 
 With an air of the greatest solemnity 
 he took her apart, and in her sight hid the
 
 Michael and Tlieodora. 37 
 
 fateful piece of paper within the lining 
 of the fur collar she Avore round her 
 throat. He told her that she must neither 
 by word, nor look, nor deed suffer its pres 
 ence to be known until she was at home 
 in her aunt's house. He assured her that 
 her father's and her mother's every hope 
 was now in her keeping, their life, honor, 
 and liberty were in it ; that if she lost it, 
 all was lost ; and that if she was prudent 
 she would be the savior of her family. 
 And there was no time left for her to 
 inquire, or to demur, or to ask questions. 
 Her cheeks were flaming, her heart bound 
 ing ; she felt weight of life and death upon 
 her looks and words and actions ; but she 
 could not doubt the solemn charge Mr. 
 Cecil had given her, and she did not dare 
 to violate a tittle of it, lest by doing so 
 she should injure those most dear to her. 
 
 The journey was not a very pleasant 
 one. The Countess disliked to be wea 
 ried or incommoded. She thought it was
 
 38 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 a capital crime to make her wait a 
 moment for any personal desire she had. 
 And the taverns on the road were all 
 poor; nothing but large, wooden hilts, 
 with a crooked, shaking staircase, and 
 one big room, in which there was per 
 petually a boiling tea-urn. The towns 
 also were all alike in their dreariness; 
 each one had a high street, and one 
 big store, and one apothecary's store, 
 and a court of justice, and an assembly 
 room ; and there was sure to be a 
 square, and a bazaar, and two or three 
 street lamps, and several sentry boxes 
 for the watchmen. 
 
 Besides which all towns, big and little, 
 had a governor and a governor's lady; 
 and an innumerable number of function 
 aries, all very important and very 
 haughty, until they were informed that 
 it was the cortege of the most noble 
 Countess Vasil, and then all were ex 
 ceedingly servile. Theodora was at first
 
 Michael and Theodora. 39 
 
 interested by the ceremonies and formali 
 ties demanded by all this official state. 
 She thought it a very fine thing to see 
 such great men bend down and kiss her 
 hands, and humbly wish "prosperity to 
 her very chariot wheels." But the fre 
 quent repetition of such homage wearied 
 her; and she could not escape from the 
 tedium of many long hours, when the 
 Countess slept, or seemed to sleep. 
 
 Then her thoughts flew back to Baz- 
 aroff, to the dear brother in the great 
 dreary schoolroom; to Mr. Cecil's kind, 
 melancholy face ; to the mysterious paper 
 clasped around her little throat. Very 
 often she secretly put her hand within 
 her collar to feel the slight difference 
 it made in the satin lining, and to be 
 sure it was certainly and safely there. 
 After sleeping, the paper was always her 
 first thought. She was in a terror until 
 she had assured herself of its presence. 
 Indeed there was only one thing which
 
 4O Michael and Theodora. 
 
 greatly pleased her during this long, 
 monotonous ride: it was the constant 
 sound of bells; for Russia is the land of 
 bells, holy bells, that are the joy of 
 far-off, lonely parishes. 
 
 In the afternoon of the third day they 
 began to approach the wondrous old city . 
 of Moscow, the prototype of all Russian 
 cities. The sleigh of the Countess dashed 
 rapidly through the uneven streets, lined 
 with sharp flint stones ; and Theodora 
 was struck dumb with amazement at their 
 endless variety, their grotesque profusion 
 of gold and barbaric ornaments, and the 
 startling blending of every conceivable 
 color in them, vivid, pale, salient, glar 
 ing, as if they had been mixed on the 
 palette of a mad painter. 
 
 The human element that pressed close 
 up to their horses was equally vivid and 
 strange. She saw within a short distance 
 monks wearing long, black, flowing robes 
 and tall circular caps and veils; soldiers
 
 MicJiacL and Theodora. 41 
 
 in gay uniforms ; dark faces of Gypsies, Tar 
 tars, Persians, swarthy Jews, and blonde 
 handsome Russians. She saw clerks sit 
 ting within the doors of the stores playing 
 dominoes, and fondling their pet cats ; 
 nurses in white aprons, long ear-rings, 
 heavy necklaces, and high turban-like 
 caps; merchants, brokers, idlers, and 
 everywhere for this human element 
 churches, churches, churches; icons on 
 every wall and above every door; glitter 
 ing crosses or huge black spread eagles 
 at every angle and on every pinnacle. 
 It was all so bewildering, so amazing! 
 Theodora was speechless. Her heart 
 swelled with native pride. It was singing 
 without words, " Thanks be to God that 
 I am a Russian girl!" 
 
 Count Vasil's house was in the heart 
 of Moscow. It was a vast old Russian 
 palace, with an Oriental look outside, but 
 furnished internally after the most splen 
 did French fashion. Jasper and porphyry
 
 42 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 adorned the walls ; columns and pilasters 
 of solid malachite supported the sculp 
 tured ceiling ; and every year, cabinet 
 makers and decorators arrived from Paris, 
 and brought with them all that was neces 
 sary to refit with additional magnificence 
 its vast and lofty rooms. Theodora, hold 
 ing her aunt's hand, passed through nu 
 merous apartments. They had all fretted 
 roofs, tessellated pavements, and walls 
 hung with cloths of gold. They were 
 adorned with every variety of ornament, 
 and with furniture in or moidu and 
 mother-of-pearl ; and they opened one 
 into the other. 
 
 * 
 
 It was like a dream of the night to the 
 little girl. She pressed her aunt's hand 
 tighter, and looked into her face with 
 eyes heavy with tears of hope and delight. 
 When they came to the suite prepared for 
 Theodora, Countess Vasil committed the 
 child to the care of two maids ; and with 
 many loving words and kisses left her to
 
 Michael and Theodora. 43 
 
 take rest and refreshment. This suite 
 was furnished in ivory and gold, and pale 
 blue damask woven with silver. The 
 rooms were full of all that could delight 
 a young girl : musical instruments, books, 
 the most delicate toilet necessities, great 
 quantities of flowering plants, singing 
 birds, and a handsome tortoise-shell cat, 
 which lay upon a satin cushion, and looked 
 at his new mistress through slits of eyes 
 full of an inquisitive and rather uncertain 
 air. Evidently he wished to inquire if 
 the Princess Theodora was satisfied with 
 his appearance, and if it was decreed 
 by her that they should be friends. 
 Theodora answered the question by stoop 
 ing down and fondling the lignified crea 
 ture ; and he graciously purred his accept 
 ance of her overtures of affection. 
 
 Then she was taken to a luxurious 
 bath, clothed in a rich and ample dressing- 
 gown, and served with such a delicate 
 dinner as delighted the hungry girl. She
 
 44 Micliael and TJicodora. 
 
 was very tired, but that night she found 
 it impossible to sleep. Her child-heart 
 was so full of strange emotions, wonder 
 and gladness at her own changed lot, 
 pity for her darling brother's lonely life, 
 hopes and fears concerning her father and 
 mother's sad fate. 
 
 Also, one of the maids had taken away 
 her fur pelisse, and she feared to show 
 her anxiety about the priceless paper 
 hidden in its fur collar. She could only 
 watch and listen until she found an 
 opportunity to steal softly from her bed, 
 search for her pelisse, and take the paper 
 from its hiding place. But the charge of 
 it kept her restless. It was dawn when 
 she fell into a deep slumber, and she was 
 wan and heavy with sleep when Matrina 
 brought her a message from the Countess. 
 
 Matrina had put on a new attitude ; she 
 understood that the little child was to be 
 henceforth an object for honor as well as 
 affection ; and she resolutely ignored the
 
 MicJiael and Theodora. 45 
 
 tender familiarity which had been so 
 necessary and comforting in the mean and 
 sorrowful life at Bazaroff. 
 
 " The Countess Vasil desires the com 
 pany of my Princess to breakfast," she 
 said with vast respect ; adding with her 
 old smile, " and to be sure it is a lovely 
 morning, and this house is like heaven, I 
 think. So much company, and the very 
 servants fed like nobles ! Ah, indeed, it 
 is now we begin to live, dear Princess! 
 though as for that, all that befalls us was 
 written in a book a thousand years ago." 
 
 " Then I hope it was my good angel 
 wrote down my fate, for, Matrina, this 
 morning I feel as if something was going 
 to happen." 
 
 "God order the hours and the burden 
 they carry, and may each one bring 
 good luck with it. Amen." 
 
 " Amen ! " said Theodora ; and she 
 crossed her brow, and bowed her head 
 reverently, making at the same time
 
 46 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 that act of soul submission we voice in 
 those solemn words, Thy will be done. 
 
 Matrina, knowing nothing of the 
 paper, wondered at the little interest 
 Theodora took in her toilet. However, 
 she looked exceedingly lovely when she 
 entered the pretty parlor where the 
 Countess waited for her. That lady 
 was in the freshest of French morning- 
 gowns, and she was drinking chocolate. 
 A Parisian maid was waiting upon her, 
 and their conversation was entirely in 
 the French language, which the Countess 
 spoke with great purity and elegance. 
 French newspapers and books were 
 scattered around, and the adornments 
 and atmosphere of the room were utterly 
 im-Russian. It was, indeed, a bit of 
 Paris transported to Moscow. 
 
 Theodora alone was out of character 
 with her sunmmdings, for she still wore 
 a Russian saraphan of dark blue velvet, 
 buttoned with pearls, and showing full
 
 MicJiael and Theodora, 47 
 
 sleeves of the finest Dacca muslin. A 
 lace ruff was round her slender throat; 
 her mittens were of blue silk embroidered 
 with silver thread; her slippers, of blue 
 morocco, had very high silvered heels; 
 and a light blue ribbon held backward 
 her long, flowing curls of pale brown 
 hair. 
 
 Her aunt stretched out her hands to 
 her, then she drew her to her side and 
 kissed her lips and cheeks ; but she soon 
 noticed how weary and sad the child 
 looked. 
 
 " You eat nothing, my little one," she 
 said tenderly. " Are you tired with the 
 long journey? That is not extraordi 
 nary. I ani myself unable to move." 
 
 "It is not that I am tired, dearest 
 aunt," she whispered. "It is because I 
 have such a great thing to carry on my- 
 little heart," 
 
 "What troubles you? Is it the poor 
 boy, Michael?"
 
 48 Michael and Tlieodora. 
 
 " It is more than Michael. I cannot 
 tell you until we are alone." 
 
 "Then I will send Fanchetta away, 
 and you shall tell me now. We can 
 bear ' the great thing ' between us, no 
 doubt. Why, then, should you bear it 
 alone? eh, my child? What do you say? 
 Shall I dismiss Fanchetta at once?" 
 
 "If you will be so good, it would be 
 a great kindness. I must tell you, aunt. 
 I can bear it no longer. Send every one 
 from the room." 
 
 "Even Matrina?" 
 
 "Yes, even Matrina." 
 
 The Countess looked at the little girl 
 and she was amazed. Theodora's soul 
 was in her eyes. Her dazzlingly fair 
 skin was luminous ; it seemed to emanate 
 light. She looked taller. She looked 
 to be all spirit. It was impossible to 
 resist or refuse the suffering, the en 
 treaty, that her face, her words, and her 
 attitude expressed. Taken together, they
 
 Michael and Theodora. 49 
 
 had a real speech ; they said to the 
 Countess, "Arrest yourself, and listen!" 
 
 She became suddenly serious and silent, 
 and by an imperative motion ordered 
 every servant from the room. Then 
 Theodora took from her bosom a piece of 
 paper and offered it to her aunt. It was 
 much soiled and crumpled, and the dainty 
 lady touched it with visible reluctance. 
 But ere she had read it through she 
 uttered a shrill cry, rose quickly to her 
 feet and struck the table bell with an 
 extraordinary passion and impatience. A 
 dozen servants flew to answer her sum 
 mons. 
 
 " The Count ! " she cried. " The Count ! 
 The Count! Tell the Count to come 
 here immediately ! Without delay ! This 
 very moment." 
 
 In the interval she quite forgot that 
 she was " unable to move." She paced 
 the room with rapid steps. In a rapture 
 of joy she kissed Theodora many times.
 
 50 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 She murmured and muttered, in Russian 
 and in French, prayers and ejaculations. 
 She was like a woman upon whom has 
 fallen news of incredible happiness of 
 happiness too great to bear. 
 
 When the Count entered the room she 
 ran to meet him, and thrust the paper into 
 his hand. He took it with the air of one 
 who desires to say, " What is all this com 
 motion about? I am annoyed by it." 
 And he touched the dirty, shabby-looking 
 missive with aversion, feeling a little 
 contempt for the emotion of his wife and 
 niece. 
 
 But his own emotion was soon as great 
 as theirs. He read but a few lines ere he 
 went to the corridor and sent all the 
 servants in waiting there on special mes 
 sages. Then he locked the door, and 
 laying the paper on the table, he read it 
 word by word in an audible whisper, 
 
 " Prince Sergius Bazaroff : Thou hast 
 not sent me the money. Very well, I
 
 Michael and Theodora. 5 I 
 
 shall come for it in two days. Then, 
 if thou pay me not, I will go to the 
 almighty police. I will tell them how 
 thou swore away the honor and the 
 liberty of thy brother, Prince Ivan, and 
 also of thy brother's wife. I will tell 
 them the whole plot. Every one is yet 
 living whom thou didst employ. I know 
 where to find them. And then thou wilt 
 not escape with Siberia. The good Czar 
 will not breathe in this world with thee. 
 There will be nothing for thee, thou 
 fratricide, but the knout! the knout to 
 death ! This is from Alez. Kergoff, at 
 the Inn of the Great Bear, Street of 
 St. John, Moscow." 
 
 Having read these words Count Vasil 
 appeared for a moment astounded. His 
 eyes were riveted on the paper. He was 
 not as sanguine as his Countess and 
 Theodora. He foresaw many delays, 
 doubts, and suspicions, which might 
 affect himself. But he was too kind to
 
 52 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 utter his fears. On the contrary, he 
 put his arms around Theodora and ques 
 tioned her closely concerning the stranger 
 Avho had visited Prince Sergius. Then 
 he said, 
 
 "This duty is now in my hands. I 
 will see to it at once, little one. Nothing 
 that I have will I spare. If I can get 
 the Czar's ear I shall succeed immedi 
 ately. But even if there should be de 
 lays, in the end all is sure to be put 
 right. I am certain of it. My child, 
 what do you think?" 
 
 "I think," answered Theodora, "that 
 God is greater than the Prince Sergius 
 Bazaroff. I think, too, if the good God 
 begins a great mercy, he will not stop 
 short till it is certain." 
 
 "Ah, to be sure!" cried the Countess 
 passionately. "When the good God 
 comes to judgment, the wicked will not 
 be able to hide themselves. Even the 
 mantle of the Czar will not cover them in
 
 Michael arid Theodora. 53 
 
 that day. My husband, let not your feet 
 be heavy. When one is saving honor and 
 dear life, it is well to be in a hurry." 
 
 Then Count Vasil went quickly out, 
 but he left a smile of hope behind him. 
 And the Countess cried for joy, and 
 Theodora wept in her arms; and that 
 day they did not go to the great shops as 
 they intended; they sat and talked of 
 the exiles in far Siberia, and of the 
 anxious child still at Bazaroff; and some 
 times of the wicked Prince Sergius, and 
 all his wicked doings. And the Countess 
 said, over and over, 
 
 "Well, then, this is true, and often 
 have I said it, 'Punishment is lame, but 
 it is sure to arrive at the house of the 
 wicked.'"
 
 Ill, 
 
 " Daughter of Justice, wronged Nemesis : 
 
 To all alike thou metest out their due, 
 Cubit for cubit, inch for inch, stern and true. 
 
 Euripides. 
 
 r I ^HAT day the Countess had intended 
 -* to take Theodora to the great stores 
 of Moscow, and buy her many new gar 
 ments ; for she desired to dress her in the 
 French fashion. But the news which the 
 child had brought overthrew all previous 
 plans. The Countess had an irritable, 
 impulsive nature, and she had never been 
 taught to control any emotion that pos 
 sessed her ; consequently she behaved like 
 an excited child. She walked about the 
 room, clapping her hands to her trium 
 phant anticipations ; or suddenly smitten
 
 Michael and Theodora, 55 
 
 with some fancied fear, she was plunged 
 in a moment into despair and tearful 
 forebodings. 
 
 She was almost angry at the solemn 
 calmness with which Theodora steadied 
 her soul. She did not understand how 
 the long sad years at Bazaroff had taught 
 the little girl to subdue all passionate 
 expression of feeling, lest by it she 
 should irritate her uncle Sergius, and 
 make the present grief still harder to 
 bear. 
 
 Yet for shopping she had now no in 
 clination ; and though she stood at the 
 windows, and looked out upon the motley, 
 picturesque picture, constantly moving 
 through the streets, she was hardly con 
 scious of what passed her mortal vision. 
 She saw far more clearly the big, bare 
 schoolroom at Bazaroff, in which she had 
 spent most of her life ; its white stove, 
 its long table covered with books and 
 slates and needlework, the bright eager
 
 56 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 face of her dear brother Michael, and 
 the quiet kindly one of the grave master. 
 
 On the next day, however, the Countess 
 became more composed. She had begun 
 to realize that the Czar's presence and 
 attention could not be stormed; and that 
 ere any attempt was made to secure his 
 judgment of the case, all the preliminary 
 work of securing evidence must be 
 perfect. 
 
 "And that may take days and days, 
 perhaps even weeks," she cried in a tem 
 per of disappointment. " The Count says, 
 this man and the other man are to find ; 
 and that some may have gone to St. 
 Petersburg, and some to the end of the 
 Russias, which is the end of the world, 
 I believe, my dear, and some may be 
 afraid to speak; and in short, there seems 
 to be a mountain to climb for every step 
 forward. So then, we may as well make 
 ourselves as happy as the day permits us 
 to be ; and the saints, no, nor your dear
 
 Michael and Theodora. 57 
 
 mother herself, will make any objections 
 if we go to the silk bazaar, and look at 
 a few things which are so necessary to 
 you. For I tell you truly, Theodora, 
 you are a beautiful girl, even in that 
 provincial dress ; then how much more 
 beautiful will you be dressed in the 
 French fashion ! " 
 
 Theodora shook her head. She did 
 not wish to be turned into a French 
 girl. She was a Russian girl, in the 
 heart of Russia. She was under the 
 shadow of the Kremlin. From its hun 
 dreds of shining, golden domes the 
 cross of her faith was glittering. She 
 could not turn her eyes anywhere and 
 not see the black eagles of Russia hover 
 ing with vast outspread wings over the 
 city. She loved her country. She loved 
 the great Czar. She had been taught to 
 regard him as Russia's patriarch and 
 father. She never imagined the Czar 
 doing anything unkind or unjust. On
 
 58 Michael and TJicodora. 
 
 the contrary, he was the savior and com 
 forter of his people. 
 
 If she could only reach the steps of 
 his august throne! if she could only 
 fall at his feet ! She would put into his 
 hands the letter which she had given to 
 Count Vasil, and then she was certain he 
 would restore her parents to honor and to 
 liberty, without a moment's delay. Yes, 
 and he would also severely punish those 
 wicked ones who had betrayed the inno 
 cent to such bitter shame and suffering. 
 
 So day after day went slowly past. 
 There was no pleasure taking possible. 
 Theodora scarcely eat or slept. She 
 grew thin and weak. She trembled at a 
 footstep, at the sound even of her own 
 name ; and Matrina, who knew nothing 
 of the cause, was dull and disappointed 
 at the change. 
 
 " Behold how contrary is good fortune ! " 
 she cried in a tone of injury. " At Baza- 
 roff, where we hardly dared to breathe,
 
 Michael and Theodora. 59 
 
 where the days were a hundred hours 
 long, and nothing whatever but misery 
 was to be seen or heard tell of, there, to 
 be sure, my Princess was happy. She 
 smiled, and eat her food, and slept like an 
 angel ; and now here, in great Moscow, 
 in a palace full of delightful things, where 
 our eyes can see strange sights continually, 
 and our ears ring with pleasant words, and 
 our mouths be full of good things to eat, 
 here, as I say, my contradictious Prin 
 cess is miserable by night and by day." 
 
 However, there is one great mercy in 
 all times of our sorrow and anxiety. God 
 says how long we shall suffer, and no man 
 can make the trial a moment longer. 
 After nine days had passed, Count Vasil 
 returned suddenly to his home. He came 
 like a bringer of good tidings. His great 
 black horses flew over the frozen ground, 
 tossing their long manes, and jingling 
 their many bells, as if they knew there 
 was a happy heart behind them. It was
 
 60 Michael and TJieodora. 
 
 the noon hour, and Theodora was sitting 
 with her aunt. Both heard the arrival, 
 and both instantly sat attent, with every 
 sense strained to listen. Neither was 
 able to utter a word. The Countess 
 dropped the novel she was reading upon 
 the floor. Theodora rose to her feet, 
 reached the middle of the room, and then 
 stood still. All the life she had was set 
 to that moment. Both heard the rapid 
 footsteps coming nearer and nearer. 
 Then the door was flung impetuously 
 open, and the face of the Count shed an 
 instant sense of success and of happiness. 
 He stretched out his arms and caught 
 the trembling, fainting child to his breast. 
 He kissed her tenderly, and said words 
 to her that made her sob for joy. Then 
 the world seemed to be turning round 
 with her, to be slipping away from under 
 her feet ; she heard her aunt's voice at an 
 immense distance; all was unintelligible, 
 void, and dark.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 61 
 
 When she recovered consciousness, 
 Count and Countess Vasil and Matrina 
 were at her side, and a physician stood by 
 the stove. She had been ill for three 
 hours. The poor child was troubled at 
 her weakness, she was full of apologies, 
 she felt as if she had been very selfish; 
 for nothing had been done yet to make 
 Michael equally happy, and three hours 
 were gone. She was glad to hear her 
 uncle ask her, "Can you talk a little 
 now, my child?" 
 
 Her white, shining face, full of eager 
 anxiety, answered him. He dismissed 
 the physician and Matrina. He took 
 her hands and spoke thus, 
 
 " Theodora, you may now say, ' Glory 
 to Grod. r The man Kergoff was easily 
 found, and with very little persuasion he 
 made a clean confession. He also pro 
 duced all the confederates in the wicked 
 plot which sent your poor parents to 
 shame and to Siberia. I laid, with haste,
 
 62 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 the whole testimony before the Czar. He 
 heard my story with the greatest pity and 
 anger. He immediately issued orders for 
 the honorable release of the Prince and 
 Princess Bazaroff, and also for the arrest 
 of Prince Sergius Bazaroff. Listen! it 
 is even possible that your dear father 
 and mother will be here for Christmas; 
 and oh, my little one, will not that be 
 a Christmas festival?" 
 
 "My uncle, I have become dumb 
 nearly. My heart is so full of happiness 
 there is no room for words in it. I can 
 not tell you what I feel -I feel to my 
 finger tips." 
 
 "My child," whispered the Countess, 
 as she kissed Theodora fervently, " now 
 we shall keep a great Christmas, a 
 very fine old Russian Christmas ! Will 
 not that make you very happy ? " 
 
 " As you please, dear aunt. I know 
 not Christmas. I have forgotten Christ- 
 mas. Christmas came not to Bazaroff.
 
 Michael and TJieodora. 63 
 
 My uncle Sergius said, we were the 
 children of traitors, and unworthy to be 
 counted among the faithful." 
 
 " The poor child ! Count, what say 
 you? Shall we not keep a children's 
 Christmas, this glad year ? " 
 
 " I am of your mind, my Countess. 
 However, my good news is not all told 
 yet. As you know, there is a festival 
 before Christmas, the Day of St. Nicho 
 las, the fete day of our Emperor; and 
 what think you? our Theodora is bidden 
 to it ! Yes, indeed ! Theodora is bidden 
 by the words of the Emperor himself." 
 
 " Ah ! what an honor ! What then 
 is intended by such a grace ? " 
 
 " I will tell you all, and then you must 
 confess that our Czar is a very just man. 
 He said to me, ' Count Vasil, in the 
 presence of my whole Court I ordered the 
 arrest of Prince and Princess Bazaroff. 
 Before the nobles I degraded him. Very 
 well then, it is right that I as publicly
 
 64 MicJiacl and TJicodora. 
 
 justify and' honor him. At the feast of 
 St. Nicholas I will do this act of justice. 
 I will make him a marshal of the Empire. 
 He shall be close to my own person. 
 The ukas shall be written at once, and 
 you shall at that public time receive them 
 for him.' " 
 
 " Well then, what said you ? " 
 
 " You know, Countess, how sometimes 
 the soul will speak when it is not bidden 
 to speak ; and it was so at this moment. 
 For, without a thought, I answered 
 boldly, ' Sire, the little daughter of Prince 
 Ivan Bazaroff is now with me. Permit 
 her to take this great joy and honor from 
 your hand.' ' 
 
 " And what said the Czar ? " 
 
 "He smiled with pleasure and an 
 swered, ' Let it be as you say, Count ; at 
 the feast of St. Nicholas.' So you see 
 there is only this thing to be done." 
 
 " It is a great thing for a child to do. 
 How is she to be taught what is neces-
 
 Michael and TJieodora. 65 
 
 sary? Besides which, remember she has 
 only ten years. Theodora, do you under 
 stand? The Czar bids you to his birth 
 day feast. He will justify and honor 
 your parents through you. What will 
 you say or do, my poor child ? You will 
 lose your intelligence, you will be afraid. " 
 
 " Oh, no, aunt ! Afraid of the good 
 Czar ? Why should I fear him ? Is he 
 not my father, also? I think he will be 
 very kind to his little daughter. How 
 happy are the Russian people! They 
 have a great father always ready to defend 
 them. How just our Czar must be ! 
 No ; I shall not be afraid. Indeed, I shall 
 be most happy to see his face." 
 
 " But perhaps he may even speak to 
 you, child ; then what will you say ? 
 There must certainly be a little speech 
 prepared." 
 
 " But why so, aunt ? When the heart 
 is full, something always crosses your 
 mind, and you speak."
 
 66 MicJiacl and Theodora. 
 
 "But you did not speak to me; you 
 fainted." 
 
 "Ah, my dear uncle, that was because 
 I could not eat or sleep for many days, so 
 my body failed me, not my soul. Now 
 I can eat and sleep, and I shall not fear 
 the good Czar, not in the least." 
 
 "To be sure. Sleep and eat, and be 
 well and strong. There is now nothing 
 to be uneasy about." 
 
 " One other thing, dear uncle ; there is 
 Michael, Michael who is waiting and 
 watching at Bazaroff. Surely some one 
 must go to Michael. I accuse myself that 
 I forgot Michael's anxiety for those three 
 hours." 
 
 " You are quite right, Theodora. Some 
 one must go at once ; some one who 
 knows how to be prudent. How is it to 
 be managed, I wonder?" 
 
 " I will tell you, uncle. Before I left 
 Bazaroff, when Mr. Cecil gave me the 
 letter he said, ' If all goes well, send back
 
 Michael and Theodora. 67 
 
 Matrina to Bazaroff. It is safe to tell 
 Matrina, and she will find out a way to 
 let us know, without arousing the sus 
 picions of Prince Sergius. As soon, there 
 fore, as Michael and Mr. Cecil know that 
 Matrina has returned, they will know all 
 is well. Even if she finds no way to 
 speak with Michael, her presence will be 
 a good message to him." 
 
 "As for an excuse for her return, I 
 have one ready," said the Count. "There 
 are certain papers regarding the manage 
 ment of the estate which ought to have 
 been sent to the public sequestrator, but 
 which he has failed to deliver. I -will 
 write by Matrina, and tell him to return 
 them by her hand. I will write in such 
 a way that even his guilty conscience 
 will suspect nothing." 
 
 " Very good, for I tell you, Count, I 
 have no wish for him to escape those 
 officers of justice who will soon overtake 
 him. I desire that he may have the cup 
 of punishment quite full."
 
 68 MicJiacl and Theodora. 
 
 " So then Matrina may go now, at 
 once, dear aunt? I feel every hour of 
 my own happiness a little burden until 
 Michael is also made happy." 
 
 " Matrina shall go at once. I will give 
 orders about the horses and drivers. You 
 must send for Matrina and make her 
 understand what is to be told and what 
 is to be prevented." 
 
 Matrina answered the bell of her mis 
 tress with a listless air. She had become 
 weary of Theodora's apparently unreason 
 able depression ; but when its cause was 
 explained to her, when she understood 
 what a weight of care the child had been 
 carrying without her help and sympathy, 
 she was ashamed and angry at her selfish 
 resentment of the Princess's want of in 
 terest in the pleasures and splendors 
 around her. She was overcome with joy 
 also, and eager to do all in her power. 
 " It was a little thing they asked of her," 
 she said. " She would have wished to be
 
 MicJiael and Theodora. 69 
 
 sent even to Siberia with such glad tid 
 ings." 
 
 So long before the short daylight was 
 over, Matrina was in a sleigh, flying across 
 the frozen snow, but feeling neither cold 
 nor weariness, because of the great news 
 hidden in her heart. She thought of a 
 hundred ways in which it would be possi 
 ble to tell Michael; and while she hasted 
 forward on her merciful journey, Theo 
 dora was kneeling before the altar in her 
 room, where that night she talked a long 
 time with God.
 
 IV. 
 
 "Mercy and truth are met together; right 
 eousness and peace have kissed each other." - 
 Psalms Ixxxv. 10. 
 
 T T was possible now for the little girl 
 "* and her aunt to do some shopping, 
 and to look at the many wonders of 
 Moscow. So, for a day or two, they 
 were nearly constantly on the streets, 
 and Theodora saw many things that in 
 terested her. Most of all, she was im 
 pressed by the pious character of the 
 people. There were little churches or 
 chapels at the corners of every street, 
 and they were all full with worshippers. 
 Indeed, no one, whether they were rich 
 or poor, passed the doors of any church 
 without crossing themselves with a dumb 
 adoration that was very impressive.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 71 
 
 " It is certain that the Russians are a 
 very pious people," said the Countess, 
 with an air of satisfaction ; and, indeed, 
 she took Theodora into several churches 
 to make her own devotions. And the 
 child was speechless with amazement and 
 admiration, for in Russia the churches 
 are storehouses of gold and jewels, and 
 they are generally in a blaze of light, 
 with a multitude of burning wax tapers. 
 The splendor, the light, the solemn 
 strains of fine music, the continual chim 
 ing of deep-toned bells, the tall grave 
 clergy with their blue eyes and undipped 
 hair and beards, and their sedate manner 
 of walking that nothing flustered, im 
 pressed Theodora with a strange sense 
 of another and a loftier life in the midst 
 of this toiling, commonplace, striving 
 one. She was startled also by the near 
 ness of these two lives, when she sud 
 denly passed from some busy storehouse, 
 alive with eager purchasers of cloths and
 
 72 MicJiacl and Theodora. 
 
 silks, into the solemn quiet of some holy 
 church, with its perpetual glory of light 
 and jewels, its silent worship, the limned 
 icons on its walls, the holy relics in its 
 golden shrines, the great crosses shining 
 with priceless gems, and the speechless 
 rapture or triumphant adoration of the 
 worshippers. It was such a different 
 thing from the noisy shouting and the 
 turmoil of the earthly life which surged 
 close to the very church doors, and even 
 made fitful mournful echoes between the 
 Jubilates and the Te Deums. 
 
 To be sure, all the churches faded from 
 her mind when she at last stood within 
 the Kremlin, the citadel and the sanctuary 
 of old Moscow. She was confounded 
 with its mass of little chapels, their cu 
 polas and spires and pinnacles jumbled 
 together. The very outside walls made 
 her speechless with admiration, they were 
 so ribbed and twisted, and wreathed and 
 fluted ; so richly inlaid with odd tiles of
 
 Michael and Tlicodora. 73 
 
 every color, glazed and glistening like 
 serpent scales ; so adorned and crowned 
 with golden domes, and spires, and 
 crosses. 
 
 And then to come suddenly from this 
 still, sacred splendor into the noisy con 
 fusion of the Nijni, to walk through the 
 great warehouses filled with malachite 
 and lapis-lazuli, was a contrast the sensi 
 tive child could not avoid feeling very 
 keenly ; and young and ignorant as she 
 was, the treasures of the great empire 
 filled her heart with patriotic admiration. 
 She looked with wonder on the gold and 
 silver work from the Caucasus, cut and 
 chased with all the minute diligence 
 of Asiatics, at the carpets from Turkey, 
 the silk from Persia, the famous shawls 
 from Orenburg ; and she went with de 
 light into the fine tea-houses, where white- 
 robed attendants served them with cups 
 of delicious Overland tea with a slice of 
 lemon in it.
 
 74 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 All was like an Arabian Night tale to 
 Theodora, who was also charmed with the 
 happy, good-natured look of the working 
 people. " They do not cast down their 
 faces, dear aunt," she cried in a kind of 
 wonder. " They do not seem to be in 
 trouble ; at Bazaroff, for instance, the 
 poor people had always tears in their 
 eyes ; they were afraid of the lash ; they 
 trembled when Uncle Sergius spoke to 
 them. Life was such a great sorrow at 
 Bazaroff." 
 
 " It will soon be very different, my 
 little one. You will see ! For the Rus 
 sians are the best natured creatures in the 
 world, easy, contented, and quite happy 
 to work." 
 
 " Yet, always, Prince Sergius called 
 them idle and drunken. Even Mr. Cecil 
 said they did not work much." 
 
 "What will you have, my dear? The 
 priests make them to keep one hundred 
 and seventy holidays every year, besides
 
 Michael and Theodora. 75 
 
 their fast days and their Sundays. How 
 then can they work? We must put the 
 blame where it is right to put it. If the 
 Emperor, who is the great patiiarch, 
 would be pleased to consider that so many 
 holidays are very bad, both for the house 
 and the city, and also for the farm, we 
 might have some good of our people, 
 and the saints be none the worse served. 
 If I was a man I should write and speak 
 about it." 
 
 "Do people who write really make 
 others think as they do? Why then is 
 there any trouble? Some one should 
 write to the good Emperor always about 
 what is wrong." 
 
 " That reminds me, Theodora. It is 
 you, dear child, that will have, maybe, 
 to speak to the Emperor ; and we have 
 been looking at this and that, and have 
 quite forgotten your dress, which is a 
 most important affair. Now we will go 
 to Madame Demaines, for you must be
 
 76 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 fitted with a costume that will make all 
 eyes turn upon you. And madame will 
 understand precisely what will be the 
 best and the most beautiful." 
 
 " Dearest aunt ! permit that I wear my 
 Russian dress, the dress that I love and 
 am at my ease in. Matrina has taught 
 me how to wear my saraphan ; but in 
 these French dresses I shall be very 
 awkward and miserable." 
 
 " But, Theodora, dress is a thing a little 
 girl knows nothing about, and our Em 
 peror knows much about it. I assure you 
 that a pretty costume will make a pretty 
 impression. When people have a favor 
 to ask it is half granted to a well-dressed 
 suppliant." 
 
 " But, dear aunt, I shall not look pretty 
 in a French dress. I shall be ungraceful. 
 I shall be troubled by the long skirt. I 
 shall be sick with the tight bands. Per 
 mit me to be a Russian girl. I assure 
 you that I will not make my friends
 
 Michael and Theodora. 77 
 
 ashamed of my behavior. Often Matrina 
 has told me how to conduct myself when 
 I should come into a great and noble 
 company." 
 
 But the Countess was not to be per 
 suaded, and Theodora very reluctantly 
 submitted to the dictation of he^ aunt 
 and the French modiste. However, 
 when the trial was over, it was over ; 
 for at night when the subject was intro 
 duced to Count Vasil, he agreed with 
 Theodora in the most decided manner. 
 
 " By all means," he said, " let the little 
 one wear our pretty national costume. 
 It is charming on a child so charming ; 
 and I am most certain that the Emperor 
 will be pleased, for anything that is 
 Russian goes at once to his heart. Be 
 sides, Countess, a new dress is usually 
 most uncomfortable. I, for instance, am 
 always miserable and most constrained in 
 my manner in a new suit of clothes." 
 
 " Ta-ta-ta ! thou art a man. A woman,
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 
 
 yes, even a little girl, is very different. 
 With a new dress they put on a kind 
 of genius. Do me the favor, Count, to 
 neglect Theodora's dress. It will not 
 be forgotten by me." 
 
 " One thing, my Countess, is not to 
 be disputed, the dress must be a Russian 
 dress ; as for the materials and the colors, 
 that is well in your judgment, for there 
 is no woman so excellently fitted to judge 
 in such matters." 
 
 " It shall, then, be as you say, Count ; 
 yet if there should be failure 
 
 " There will be no failure. The word 
 is not to be used. " 
 
 " Very well then, Theodora. It is to 
 be the Russian dress. Am I riot very 
 complaisant ? " 
 
 " You are very kind, dearest aunt ; and 
 I assure you the Russian dress is the best. 
 At the end you shall confess this is the 
 truth." 
 
 The next day they went at a rush to
 
 Michael and Theodora, 79 
 
 St. Petersburg, for the feast of St. 
 Nicholas was close at hand. It was a 
 cold, bleak, and very tiresome journey, 
 but the rapid movement, the strange 
 sights and sounds, and her great weari 
 ness, made Theodora sleep so much and 
 so heavily that the realities by which 
 she was encompassed fitted into her 
 dreams and became a part of them ; 
 and at length they came one day, about 
 the noon hour, in sight of St. Peters 
 burg, squatting like an immense alli 
 gator, half in and half out of the water 
 of the Neva swamps. 
 
 " Look at our great city, Theodora," 
 said the Count. "I tell you that I 
 think it modelled on Amsterdam, and 
 not unlike Venice. But, doubtless, some 
 day you will be able to make your 
 own comparisons." 
 
 Theodora raised herself and looked 
 eagerly down the miles and miles of 
 " Prospects," the endless, wide-open
 
 8o MicJiacl and TJicodora, 
 
 spaces, the long streets, the lines of 
 walls, the rows of trees, and the inter 
 minable avenues. 
 
 " There seems to be no end of them, 
 uncle," she said wearily. 
 
 " My dear, you must know that these 
 unending avenues have a purpose ; they 
 permit the town to run out of town. 
 It is a most necessary arrangement. 
 But here is the end of our journey. 
 Alight, little one ! You are at home. 
 May you be happy." 
 
 They were entering a noble palace as 
 he spoke, going up a broad staircase of 
 Carrara marble, lined with servants wear 
 ing powdered wigs and gay liveries in 
 the style of the old French Court. The 
 rooms were more spacious and more 
 lofty than those of the Moscow palace, 
 and more richly adorned with malachite, 
 jasper, and lapis-lazuli. A constant stir 
 and movement filled the place, and the 
 champing and neighing of the horses
 
 Michael and Theodora. 81 
 
 could be heard from the fine stables but 
 a little distance away. 
 
 Theodora's heart filled and swelled to 
 the sense of all this vivid life. She felt 
 the influx of new motives and of new 
 hopes. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes 
 gleamed; she was spiritually "possessed" 
 by the ideas which had just come into 
 her experience. And yet, this feeling of 
 exaltation was dashed and darkened by 
 the sombre recollections of her beloved 
 brother. How sad was the life her dear 
 Michael was leading! How real were all 
 its terrors and sufferings! How unreal 
 and shadowy and uncertain its hopes ! 
 She could feel how long the days must 
 be to the hearts watching at Bazaroff, 
 and, thinking of these things, she herself 
 trembled with impatience. Yes, indeed, 
 very often, both when in society and in 
 solitude, her tender heart cried out im 
 patiently, " Oh, that the Feast of St. 
 Nicholas were here ! When will it arrive ? 
 Every hour is a whole year long ! "
 
 82 MicJiacl and Theodora. 
 
 But at last whatever is waited for 
 comes. The great day dawned. Theo 
 dora rose in a strangely quiet, solemn 
 mood. She stood a moment and looked 
 at her new costume ; it satisfied her de 
 sires, and she turned quickly from it 
 and went to her altar. There she pros 
 trated herself for a long time before the 
 God who says, " Suffer the little chil 
 dren to come unto me." She put her 
 small hand in his hand and prayed, 
 " Lead thou me in the way I should go. 
 I am so ignorant, guide me with thy 
 counsel. I am only a little child. Thou 
 art the Lord God omnipotent. I am 
 am not afraid of thee, O my God, why 
 then should I fear the Czar, who is but 
 thy servant ? " 
 
 In such prayer all the day long she 
 strengthened her heart in God, and as 
 the hours went by she became calm and 
 self-possessed, almost happy. She had 
 lost all fear, and when her maids came
 
 Michael and Theodora. 83 
 
 to robe her for the great interview she 
 rose with a smile and began to take a 
 great interest in her adornment. She 
 said softly to herself, what her aunt had 
 said to her, "So much depends upon a 
 pretty dress. I must remember that to 
 night; I dress myself for my dear father 
 and mother and Michael." 
 
 Certainly in no French dress could 
 she have looked more lovely. Her sara- 
 phan was of white satin embroidered 
 with gold, and it had sleeves of glisten 
 ing Indian gauze. Her shoes were of 
 white satin trimmed with sapphires, and 
 round her head she wore a coronal of 
 the same heaven-blue gems ; and never 
 before had her personal beauty been so 
 remarkable. It was impossible not to 
 be charmed with her sweet, childlike 
 face, and large wondering blue eyes. 
 Her complexion was like that of a lily. 
 She was tall and slender, and as she 
 walked she seemed to fill the air with
 
 84 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 fragrance and grace as a swaying flower 
 does. Her carriage was noble and erect, 
 her air that of the most innocent con 
 fidence. "She is like an angel," said 
 her uncle Vasil. And, indeed, when 
 a young girl has a beautiful body, 
 transfigured by a beautiful soul, oh, how 
 lovely and lovable she is! 
 
 And so sure was she of her angel's 
 presence, and of the blessing and approval 
 of God, that she did not feel the least 
 fear when she entered the magnificent 
 palace of the great Czar. The blaze of 
 light and of gold and jewels, the splendid 
 uniforms of the men, the beautiful dresses 
 of the women, the quantity of radiant 
 flowers, the stirring music of the military 
 bands, all these things appeared to be 
 the fit and proper surroundings of her 
 mood of exaltation ; as proper as the 
 sunshine is for the blooming rose. 
 
 So she glided along between her uncle 
 and aunt Vasil as if she were in a dream,
 
 Michael and Theodora. 85 
 
 quite unconscious that the very presence 
 of a little girl in that august assembly 
 was in itself a very strange and wonder 
 ful thing, and was causing a great curios 
 ity among the various princes and mar 
 shals, and dukes and duchesses, gathered 
 in the throne-room. 
 
 Perhaps all this human interest and 
 curiosity might have been an annoying 
 and weakening influence if she had had 
 to bear it for any great length of time, 
 but she had not. A very few minutes 
 passed, and then the Emperor and Em 
 press entered together. Theodora's eyes 
 were instantly fixed upon the Emperor. 
 His impressive figure, majestic with the 
 air of empire, his potent face, on which 
 will sat enthroned, fascinated her child 
 heart. Her first and instantaneous 
 thought was, " This is the mighty Czar 
 who has given me back father and mothe: 
 and home ! This is he who has ransomed 
 those I love from such great suffering and
 
 86 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 degradation." And at that moment she 
 would have willingly died for him. 
 
 There was an intense stillness as the 
 Emperor bowed to his assembled nobles. 
 Then he said a few words to a gray old 
 marshal, who was covered with medals 
 and honorable "orders," and the marshal 
 stepped forward and said in a loud, clear 
 voice, 
 
 " Nobles and Brothers of the Russian 
 Empire : It has been fully proven that the 
 Prince Ivan Bazaroff was falsely accused. 
 It is therefore the gracious pleasure of 
 the Emperor, on this, his own fete day, 
 to restore to Prince Ivan Bazaroff all his 
 civil rights and his large estates ; and, also, 
 the Emperor declares his conviction of 
 Prince Ivan Bazaroffs love and loyalty, 
 by making him grand marshal of the 
 Emperor's own guard. The ukase relat 
 ing to these changes is declared." 
 
 There was a quick sound of inarticu 
 late rejoicing, a stir of happiness not to
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 87 
 
 be expressed, an indefinable sense of 
 happy expectation ; and then Count 
 Vasil spoke to Theodora, and she walked 
 straight to the Emperor. Her beauty and 
 grace delighted every eye ; and the ecstasy 
 of love and gratitude which filled her 
 heart produced in her an unconscious 
 elevation, preventing all fear or faltering. 
 A low murmur of admiration followed 
 the child. She had been told to cast 
 herself at the feet of the Czar. She did 
 not think of that. On the contrary, she 
 raised her eyes to his face. 
 
 " My child ! " he said kindly. 
 
 "My Czar! My Czar!" and forgetting 
 all else in that supreme moment of her 
 desire, she stretched out her arms, and 
 lifted her face to his face as if he were 
 indeed her father. 
 
 The action was so genuine and spon 
 taneous that it compelled its own answer, 
 and a thrill of sympathy stirred the great 
 company when the Emperor stooped and
 
 88 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 kissed the tears from the little one's wet 
 eyelids. Then the Empress also kissed 
 her, and the grand measure of the polo 
 naise struck up, and the nobles formed 
 themselves for its march; but Theodora 
 knew not anything more, distinctly, un 
 til she found herself in the Vasil car 
 riage, crying softly in her aunt's arms ; 
 crying for very joy.
 
 V. 
 
 " Hark ! the herald angels sing, 
 Glory to the new-born king ! " 
 
 " At Christmas, play and make good cheer, 
 For Christmas comes but once a year." 
 
 'T^HEODORA was now the heroine of 
 -*- the hour. Nobles and peasants alike 
 talked of nothing but the beautiful child 
 and the great Emperor's justice and kind 
 ness. Hundreds of curious people passed 
 the Vasil palace, only for the hope oi 
 seeing Theodora at some of its windows ; 
 and the reception-rooms of the Countess 
 were crowded with very great ladies, who 
 were delighted to speak to the little girl 
 and to kiss her cheek. As they drank 
 the tea, which Russians drink at all hours, 
 they talked of the circumstance. 
 
 " The Emperor was delighted," said the
 
 go Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Grand Duchess Olga. " No doubt that is 
 the truth; many who were watching saw 
 the tears come to his eyes. Thanks be to 
 God for so good a Czar! May his pres 
 ence always enlighten and comfort us ! " 
 
 " You should have seen the little one's 
 face," added the wife of a rich boyar. 
 "I was behind the Czar, and therefore I 
 could see it. The face was wonderful. 
 It was all light. Her eyes shone like two 
 great stars. Her lips were parted, she 
 stretched out her hands, and when they 
 touched the Czar's neck he stooped down, 
 and it is the truth lie kissed her ! Yes, 
 indeed ! the great Czar kissed the child." 
 
 " I think, indeed, it was the Czar who 
 kissed the child," said another noble lady, 
 " though, to be sure, others say the child 
 had the noble daring to kiss first the lips 
 of the Czar. But there was the kiss ! 
 whichever way from, or to there it 
 was! About the kiss itself, there could 
 be no mistake."
 
 Michael and Theodora. 91 
 
 " And I," said the Duchess Sophia, " I, 
 who have the honor to be in waiting on 
 the Empress, I know that she also was 
 delighted. The Empress also kissed the 
 little one, and there were tears in her 
 eyes. I saw them, and I gave to the 
 Empress a kerchief that she might dry 
 them away. For, to be sure, the Empress 
 loved the child's mother, the poor Prin 
 cess Nadia." 
 
 "That is quite another matter," said 
 the Countess Vasil. She did not wish to 
 bring into discussion the affairs of her 
 sister her wrongs or her sufferings. 
 Such things are dangerous to talk about; 
 and she turned suddenly round and called 
 Theodora to her side. 
 
 The child was almost frightened at the 
 adulation and the praises she received. 
 She had done nothing at all but thank 
 the good Czar, because he had so nobly 
 and publicly justified her dear father and 
 mother. And since they were not guilty,
 
 92 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 surely they were worthy of such justice ! 
 Indeed, her childish mind had been specu 
 lating as to what recompense ought to be 
 given for so much unmerited shame and 
 suffering. The question gave a troubled, 
 thoughtful air to her young face, and the 
 Duchess Olga noticed the expression, and 
 told her she must no longer be anxious. 
 
 " It is even possible that the Prince and 
 Princess, your father and mother, are free 
 at this moment, that they are hastening 
 to clasp you in their arms. Indeed, as 
 there is only happiness and honor before 
 them, little one, I think you ought to be 
 very joyful. Also, you know, one must 
 always be gay at the Christmas feast. It 
 is indeed a sin to let our faces cast a 
 shadow on those blessed days. Your 
 angel would not approve of it. I wish 
 you a joyful Christmas, little lady." 
 
 And now Theodora began to see and to 
 hear so much about Christmas that she 
 was full of curiosity and expectation.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 93 
 
 Mr. Cecil had often read to her the story 
 of the Babe of Bethlehem, and it had 
 rested on her mind like dawn upon the 
 waters. But to honor Christ's birthday, 
 to see, to feel, to share in its joy, that 
 was a wonderful thing to the child ! She 
 was going to keep her first Christmas 
 feast! She was full of the joy of it! 
 She had never been so happy in her life. 
 
 And it really seemed to be a different 
 world, every one was so good-natured, so 
 merry, so busy, on such tiptoes of ex 
 pectation ! For surely the river of life 
 which runs past Christmas day is not the 
 same river which runs past all the other 
 days of the year. The stir, the happy 
 confusion, the very possibility that her 
 father and mother might arrive during 
 the feast, gave a sense of triumph and 
 exaltation to all the preparations. 
 
 One thing only troubled the happy 
 family. Nothing had been heard from 
 Bazaroff. Officers of justice had certainly
 
 94 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 been sent there, but there was no public 
 information as to how their errand had 
 been performed, no word from Michael or 
 Mr. Cecil. And Theodora could not in 
 duce her uncle and aunt to talk about 
 Prince Sergius and Bazaroff. Their 
 silence was a very prudent one, for in 
 Russia it is a dangerous thing to speak 
 of state offences ; there might be a spy in 
 their own household, their words might 
 be falsely reported ; no matter what they 
 felt, Christmas was the safest of all sub 
 jects to talk about, and while they were 
 keeping the great feast, affairs more per 
 sonal would very likely be righting them 
 selves. 
 
 However, the night before the Nativity 
 there came a messenger from Bazaroff. 
 He brought a letter from Mr. Cecil, 
 saying that Prince Sergius had disap 
 peared, and that it was considered best for 
 Michael to remain at Bazaroff. 
 
 " But why ? " cried Theodora. " I
 
 Micliacl and Theodora. 95 
 
 thought you had sent for Michael, dear 
 uncle ! I do not want to keep Christmas 
 without Michael and Mr. Cecil and Ma- 
 trina. I am very much disappointed." 
 
 "Michael is nobler and more unselfish 
 than you are, Theodora," answered the 
 Count. " He has doubtless considered that 
 your father and mother may come first of 
 all to Bazaroff, and that they will indeed 
 be lonely and disappointed if there is no 
 one there to welcome them back to their 
 home. Indeed, this is what Michael says: 
 ' I am waiting at Bazaroff to meet here 
 my father and mother, and this is my 
 Christmas joy, dear uncle.' You must 
 remember, Theodora, . that Prince Sergius 
 has fled, and that Mr. Cecil is with your 
 brother. The sorrow has gone away from 
 Bazaroff ; they will be very happy there. 
 Indeed, I think that Michael has done 
 exactly right." 
 
 " And Theodora," said the Countess, 
 " must now forget everything but Christ-
 
 96 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 mas and its great joy. Come, my child, it 
 is necessary that you also should do some 
 thing for Christmas, or else you cannot 
 expect to find its gladness in your heart." 
 
 There was, indeed, a great deal for 
 every one to do. The house was full of 
 servants, but they needed constant direc 
 tion, for they were more disposed to enjoy 
 the feast than to prepare for it. The 
 Countess herself gave the various orders, 
 and Theodora went with her from room 
 to room as the illumination was prepared. 
 
 For when the night began to fall upon 
 the big city, it put on its festival garments 
 and appearance. The chiming of bells, 
 the fanfare of trumpets, the happy stir of 
 human life and gladness, enthused the 
 crowds upon the public streets, and every 
 house was full of lights, according to its 
 size and ability. In Count Vasil's palace 
 there were two thousand wax candles 
 burning, and whenever one servant met 
 another they said to each other, with an
 
 He taunted the children with their parents' degradation.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 97 
 
 air of solemn gladness, " God with us!" 
 It was the same in the markets and the 
 churches, on the prospects and on the 
 highways, around the poor man's stove, or 
 among the nobles in the Emperor's palace, 
 every one had the same glad message to 
 give his fellow, " God with us ! " 
 
 The Countess Vasil had invited forty 
 youths and maidens to keep Christmas 
 with Theodora, and as soon as the candles 
 were lighted they made a procession 
 through the brilliant rooms, singing all 
 together the sweet old chant of " Kolyda," 
 which is the song of the Nativity: 
 
 "Kolyda! Kolyda! 
 Kolyda has arrived ! 
 On the eve of the Nativity 
 We went about, we sought 
 Holy Kolyda. 
 We found Kolyda 
 In Peter's court. 
 
 Round Peter's court there is an iron fence, 
 In the midst of the court 
 There are three rooms ; 
 In the first room is the bright moon ; 
 In the second room is the red sun ; 
 In the third room the many stars."
 
 98 Micliacl and TJicodora. 
 
 This song, though now consecrated to 
 Christmas, was once the song of the sun 
 god, and in some parts of Russia, even at 
 this day, a young girl dressed to repre 
 sent the sun is driven from house to 
 house, while the girls attending her sing 
 joyfully the " Kolyadki." 
 
 Theodora and her companions sang it 
 through every room of Count Vasil's 
 palace, and all up and down the brill 
 iantly lighted staircase, and a very pretty 
 procession the forty children in their rich 
 saraphans made. 
 
 "Indeed they look like a band of 
 fairies," said the English lady who was 
 present. 
 
 " Have you ever seen a fairy ? " asked 
 the Countess Vasil ; and the English lady 
 shook her head and answered, 
 
 " No ; they have all gone away from Eng 
 land. It is said they were frightened by 
 the coming of mills and machinery, and 
 the dreadful shrieks of the railway engine."
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 99 
 
 " Ah, no ! " said Theodora, with such a 
 pretty air of confidence, " that was not the 
 reason. Mr. Cecil, who is a very learned 
 man, told me the fairies were all Roman 
 Catholics, and that when England became 
 Protestant they very quickly left the 
 country. By this we may know 
 
 ' They were of the old profession ; 
 Their songs were Ave Maries ; 
 Their dances were processions.' " 
 
 Then the English lady laughed merrily, 
 and the Countess said it was Christmas, 
 and " Kolyda " was a house song for every 
 one> Catholic or Protestant, for the sun 
 and the moon represented the father and 
 the mother of a family, and the stars were 
 the little children, and the chorus was 
 only a wish for " their very good health." 
 
 It was a children's Christmas that 
 Count and Countess Vasil intended to 
 keep for Theodora, and the twenty fair 
 maidens, and the youths who were their 
 "elected," spent the evening in singing,
 
 ioo Michael and Theodora* 
 
 in games, and in telling each other 
 legends and stories of the days of advent. 
 And when all the fathers and mothers of 
 the boys and girls had arrived, then they 
 marched through the house again, sing 
 ing joyfully,- 
 
 " Kolyda! Kolyda! 
 Kolyda has arrived ! 
 Glory to God in heaven ! Glory ! " 
 
 Then the children sat down to eat 
 together, and to plan amusements for the 
 holy days between the Nativity and the 
 Epiphany ; for during these days they 
 were to be "dear companions." And 
 every day was set apart for something 
 delightful sleighing, skating, ball play 
 ing in the court, dancing in the house, 
 and, above all, for those exquisite singing 
 games, which are the greatest pleasure of 
 Russian boys and girls. 
 
 Theodora was enchanted. She re 
 membered the sad hours of the previous 
 Christmas, when Prince Sergius had drunk
 
 Michael and Theodora. 101 
 
 so deeply, and scolded so furiously, that 
 every one else in Bazaroff had lived in 
 silence and terror. This happy company, 
 and the sense of perfect love around her, 
 made her weep for very joy; and long 
 after the other children had gone to sleep, 
 Theodora lay wide awake, full of grati 
 tude, and of a sense of hope and expecta 
 tion that would not permit her to forget 
 the past. 
 
 Very early on Christmas morning the 
 Countess herself came into the great rooms 
 where the little girls slept. " Awake ! 
 awake!" she cried; "and tell me now 
 what have you dreamt, and what has 
 appeared to you in your sleep." 
 
 And as they rubbed their pretty 
 drowsy eyes, and began all to talk to 
 gether, the babuschka, an old woman 
 who in every house waits on the young 
 girls, brought in their breakfasts. Then 
 their own nurses and maids began to 
 come in, and to ask how they were, and
 
 IO2 MicJiael and Theodora. 
 
 to listen to their dreams, and to give 
 and to take messages to their parents 
 and to the Countess Vasil, so that the 
 breakfast was full of merry interrup 
 tions. 
 
 After being dressed they went to the 
 court, where they passed the day in a 
 game of snow-balling, in sleighing, skat 
 ing, and in watching the arrival of very 
 distinguished guests who were coming 
 to the Christmas dinner. These they 
 delighted to greet with some Kolyadki 
 chant. To be sure, as the day went on, 
 they grew a little wild with their 
 pleasure; but the great Christmas dinner, 
 with all its grand company and formali 
 ties, easily brought them back to their 
 best conduct and behavior. 
 
 For when the two thousand wax 
 candles were again lit, the rooms were 
 full of great ladies flashing with jewels, 
 and great nobles flashing with civil and 
 military orders, and handsome boys in
 
 Michael and Theodora, 103 
 
 their rich fur pelisses and embroidered 
 kaftans, and beautiful girls in saraphans 
 of silk and gauze, with their flowing hair 
 tied back with rose-colored ribbons. And 
 in every room there was music, and in 
 some rooms the boys and girls were sing 
 ing to it, and in others they were dan 
 cing. Such joyful groups ! Such gor 
 geous, good-natured ladies and gentlemen ! 
 All giving way a little to the wishes of 
 the children at this time, because of the 
 Child whose birthday they were keeping. 
 Try now to imagine Count Vasil's 
 banqueting hall with its soft lights, its 
 glad music, and its two long tables bright 
 with gold and silver, and sweet with 
 many-colored flowers. One table was for 
 the children, and the other for the nobles 
 and their ladies. The Christmas feast is 
 laid on both tables, the rich viands are 
 filling the air with delicious aromas; 
 but before any one may taste of the good 
 things, Count Vasil rises, and all the
 
 IO4 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 company rise with him, and they sing 
 heartily together the Christmas song that 
 all Russia is that day singing from 
 Poland to Siberia, the " Song of the Bread 
 and the Salt'' : 
 
 u May the bread and the salt, ISlawa ! (glory !) 
 Live a thousand years ! Slawa I 
 May our Emperor live still longer ! Slawa ! 
 May his dear children 
 Ever remain faithful ! Slawa I 
 May our good Emperor never grow old ! Slawa ! 
 May his good courser 
 Never be tired ! Slawa 1 
 May his shining garments 
 Ever be new ! Slawa ! " 
 
 Then amid rippling waves of laughter 
 and conversation the feast began; and 
 the children, of course, finished their 
 dinner long before their parents and the 
 stately company who sat round Count 
 Vasil's table. For these guests had a long 
 menu to go through ; and they had 
 " healths" to drii^k, and speeches to make, 
 and they liked to do all these things very 
 leisurely.
 
 Michael and Theodora, 105 
 
 But the children thought it would be 
 much more delightful to play games than 
 to sit in the banqueting hall, where they 
 had also to talk with propriety, and in a 
 voice not too loud. So Theodora looked 
 at her aunt, and the Countess nodded and 
 smiled, and then, without hurry, but still 
 very gladly, she arose from the table, and 
 the children followed her into the large 
 room which had been appointed for the 
 "Jewel Game." 
 
 An old woman was just bringing in a 
 deep dish half full of clean water. She 
 placed it upon a table, which was covered 
 with a clean cloth. Another woman 
 brought in bread and salt, and three 
 pieces of charcoal. Then the boys and 
 girls stood up, and removed their rings 
 and chains and bracelets, and walking to 
 the bowl they dropped them into it ; 
 and as they did so, they chanted again 
 the "Song of the Bread and the Salt," 
 while the old woman stirred the jewels in
 
 106 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 the clean water, and covered them with a 
 napkin. 
 
 Now for the " Jewel Game " there are 
 many songs; one foretells good fortune; 
 a second, a journey; a third, sickness; 
 others great wealth, high honors, good 
 marriage, many misfortunes, etc., etc., 
 etc. All these different songs are 
 written on separate cards, and the old 
 woman who presides, while she lifts a 
 jewel out of the water, draws also a 
 card fiom the pack. Both are taken at 
 random, and without any plan or design, 
 and whatever song is on the card drawn 
 is sung by the company. Then the 
 jewel which has been lifted to it is ex 
 amined, and the song sung is said to 
 be prophetic of the fate of the owners 
 of the jewel. 
 
 If the jewel be a ring, or a bracelet, 
 or locket, while it is slipped on the 
 finger, or clasped round the arm or the 
 throat, all the company sing in chorus,
 
 Michael and Theodora. 107 
 
 " To her for whom we have suug it, 
 May it turn good ; 
 She who has missed it 
 Must do without it, 
 Must do without it. 
 This cannot fail." 
 
 Many of the youths and their "fair 
 companions" had their fate thus pre 
 dicted, and at last the old woman 
 said, 
 
 " I have lifted a card. I have taken 
 a jewel. On the card is the song for 
 a happy marriage. Will our gracious 
 Princess Theodora predict it ? " 
 
 Then Theodora, who had quickly learnt 
 all the songs, began to chant. Her voice 
 had the shrill sweetness of girlhood, and 
 she pronounced the words very clearly, 
 which in itself makes singing delight 
 ful : 
 
 " I saw a sparrow-hawk 
 Fly from one lane, 
 And a little dove 
 Fly out from another ; 
 They flew to each other, 
 They embraced each other ;
 
 io8 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Embraced each other 
 
 With their light blue wings. 
 
 And the people wondered, 
 
 The people marvelled, 
 
 That sparrow-hawk and dove 
 
 Should build so happily, 
 
 So happily together. Slawa." 1 
 
 And to be sure when the jewel was 
 uncovered, it was found to be the brace 
 let of Theodora, and her companions 
 clasped it round her arm, singing mer 
 rily* - 
 
 " To her for whom we have sung it, 
 May it turn good ! 
 She who has missed it, 
 Must do without it, 
 Must do without it, 
 This caunot fail." 
 
 As the last jewel was a ring, the old 
 woman rolled it along the floor, and the 
 children watched its course with great 
 interest ; for if it is the ring of a girl, 
 and it rolls to the door, she will be mar 
 ried very early ; and if it is the ring 
 of a youth, then he is sure to be a great 
 traveller, and go many long journeys.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 109 
 
 And every one laughed and clapped their 
 hands when the ring went to the door 
 and was found to be the ring of little 
 Paul Kieff, who was going, as all knew, 
 to Paris as soon as the Epiphany was 
 over. 
 
 On the following night they danced a 
 little while, but Theodora liked the song- 
 games far better ; and the other children 
 also said, " That though the mazurka was 
 indeed charming, it was not so much so 
 as the 'Burial of the Gold.'" 
 
 " Come, companions, then," cried Theo 
 dora, " let us bury the gold and silver ! " 
 So they stood in a circle, and they placed 
 Theodora in the middle of the circle, and 
 they took her gold ring and bid her find 
 out in whose hand it was, as they passed 
 it from one to the other, singing as they 
 did so, 
 
 ' ' See here ! Gold I bury ! 
 Silver pure I bury ! 
 In the rooms, 
 The rooms of my father.
 
 no Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Rooms so high ! rooms so high 
 Of my mother! 
 Guess, O imiideii! 
 Find out, pretty one, 
 Whose hand is holding 
 The wings of the serpent ! " 
 
 Then Theodora sung in answer, 
 
 " Gladly would I guess, 
 Had I known, 
 Had I seen, 
 Crossing the plain, 
 Plaiting my ruddy brown hair, 
 Weaving it with silk, 
 Interlacing it with gold; 
 Oh ! my dear companions, 
 Tell me the truth ! 
 Do not conceal it, 
 Give me, oh, give me, 
 Give me back my gold ! " 
 
 To which entreaty the circle of girls 
 answered thus, 
 
 " The ring has fallen, 
 The ring has fallen, 
 Among the Guelder roses; 
 Among the raspberries ; 
 Among the black currants ; 
 Disappeared has the gold, 
 Hidden away, 
 Mere dust, 
 All grown over with moss ! "
 
 Micliacl and Theodora. 1 1 1 
 
 And though these songs sound only 
 like pretty nonsense, the Russian child 
 knows that they hold a meaning ; that 
 the gold ring represents the sun, hidden 
 away by winter's dark clouds. For this 
 game, like the Saxon one of "Hunt the 
 Slipper," and many other kindred ones 
 of other nations, was doubtless once a 
 solemn emblematical rite. 
 
 According to Russian traditions, all 
 kinds of hidden treasures may be re 
 vealed at this period of the year, in 
 the "holy evenings" between the Nativ 
 ity and the Epiphany. "Many wonder 
 ful things happen then," said the old 
 woman, "for the Christ walks upon the 
 earth, and gives to the sorrowful ones 
 help and comfort, and to the wicked 
 some opportunity to repent. " 
 
 "And that is truly so," said little 
 Elizabeth Jelko, in a solemn voice. "I 
 know that it is so, for my uncle Volknoff 
 was once a great miser. And on the
 
 112 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 sixth holy night as he was going past the 
 church of St. Basil he met an old man, 
 an old, old man, who said to him, 
 
 " ' Volknoff, I pray thee stay for Christ's 
 sake, and give me a copeck, or at least a 
 morsel of bread.' 
 
 "And at once the heart of my uncle 
 Volknoff felt pitiful, and he said softly, 
 though he was wont to speak gruff and 
 cross, 'For Christ's sake, then, my 
 brother, take then this silver ruble.' 
 And instantly the beggar was gone ; but 
 Volknoff saw for a moment a face like an 
 angel's, and he knew that the Christ had 
 spoken to him. And, indeed, he has not 
 loved gold more than Christ since that 
 night ; and now, also, he is a devout wor 
 shipper at the church of St. Basil." 
 
 And after Elizabeth had spoken, each 
 girl had some story of the same holy time 
 to tell. One knew of a very cruel noble 
 who, on the third holy night, had suddenly 
 taken pity on a miserable slave child. It
 
 Michael and Theodora. 113 
 
 looked at him only as he passed it, and 
 the sorrowful eyes turned the master's 
 hard heart to tears ; and he spoke gently 
 to the little sufferer, and then he found 
 he had spoken to the Christ-child. 
 
 " Besides which," said Lucia Smoloff, 
 " I knew a man who was going on his 
 business across the great plain of the 
 Volga. It was on the eve of the Epiph 
 any, and he was a very good man. But 
 as he drove on in the moonlight he was 
 followed by a pack of fierce wolves ; 
 and he gave up his life, for they were 
 already pulling at his robes. But just 
 then what happened? A stranger came 
 into the sledge, and he said to the hungry 
 brutes, 'Depart!' 1 And they slunk 
 silently away, and the man cried out, 
 'My Christ! it is thee, then!" 
 
 " And it is not only this earth that 
 is then blessed," continued little Peter 
 Rigoff. "It is also in heaven a time of 
 great happiness. My uncle, who is a
 
 114 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 patriarch, told me that even in heaven, 
 during these holy days, there are great 
 gifts and rejoicings. The doors of the 
 radiant realm of paradise, in which the 
 Son dwells, are flung wide open, new 
 treasures are disclosed, the waters turn to 
 wine, the trees of life put forth fresh 
 blossoms, the fruits of heaven ripen on 
 the boughs, and the ministering angels 
 receive new gifts for the children of 
 men." 
 
 Thus they sat talking after they were 
 wearied with their games, and were more 
 sweetly, solemnly happy than any laugh 
 ter or dancing could make them, until 
 their servants came to prepare them for 
 sleep. Then they went away to holy 
 dreams, with a smile for each other, and 
 M little prayer to the Redeemer in every 
 sinless heart.
 
 VI. 
 
 " To love something more than one's self, 
 that is the secret of all that is great. To know 
 how to live for others, that is the aim of all noble 
 souls." 
 
 little children, if they will 
 take the trouble to observe, may 
 easily see how different a thing life is to 
 every single human being. Not even to 
 two of the same family is it precisely the 
 same ; each has his or her own task to 
 learn, or duty to perform. Thus Michael 
 and Theodora, though the children of the 
 same father and mother, were very differ 
 ently situated at this Christmas tide. 
 
 While Theodora was being caressed 
 and praised beyond her understanding, 
 while she was surrounded by luxuries 
 and many splendid amusements, little 
 Michael was living amid hatred and un-
 
 1 1 6 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 reasonable anger, and obliged to endure 
 the deepest sense of fear and anxiety. 
 
 As soon as Theodora had left Bazaroff 
 with her aunt, there was an access of all 
 the wretchedness Michael had hitherto 
 suffered. Prince Sergius was undoubtedly 
 very uneasy about the loss of his letter; 
 and his sudden appearances in the school 
 room, and his unlooked-for interruptions, 
 showed that his suspicions were on the 
 alert. But for some time he did not 
 speak of his loss, or make any public 
 effort to discover the missing paper. 
 
 He did not remember where he had 
 last handled the fateful thing. He had 
 been so furious with strong brandy and 
 ungovernable rage that he had no distinct 
 memory as to the time or place. The 
 only particular clear to him was the fact 
 that he had put it into an inner and 
 separate receptacle of his leather pocket- 
 wallet on the day when it had been first 
 brought to him.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 1 1 7 
 
 Until Kergoff's visit he had never again 
 looked at the insolent message. He was 
 sure of that. The point at which he 
 wavered was a very important one, he 
 could not remember whether he had 
 opened this special receptacle while the 
 man was with him. In his own mind he 
 had promised to give Kergoff a lash for 
 every word if ever he dared to put his 
 feet within the great gates of Bazaroff 
 court. But, somehow, Kergoff had been 
 to Bazaroff and had bullied him out of a 
 large sum of money, and he had also gone 
 away unpunished. How had such a thing 
 happened? 
 
 " I must have been drunk, blind, 
 and deaf, and dumb drunk," he said to 
 his own angry heart, "because I am not 
 a coward when I am sober. And if I 
 had been sober, Kergoff would have 
 tasted the knout he so impudently and 
 unpardonably promised me, promised 
 Prince Sergius Bazaroff! That I per-
 
 1 1 8 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 mitted such insolence to go unpunished 
 is incredible ! / myself was from home 
 when Kergoff brought his detestable 
 person here, that is certain. But the 
 paper ! The infamous letter he sent ! 
 What did I do with it?" 
 
 He asked himself this question night 
 and day. He wandered about the wood 
 in which he had walked with Kergoff, 
 looking vainly for the bit of white paper 
 on the waste of white snow. Finally 
 he set every serf on the estate to hunt 
 for it. " It was a note promising a large 
 sum of money," he told them, "and he 
 would give freedom to whoever found it 
 for him." 
 
 This great promise sharpened every 
 eye, but no one could find at Bazaroff 
 what was already at St. Petersburg, and 
 at last the search was abandoned. Every 
 inch of ground had been carefully gone 
 over, and though here and there scraps 
 of written paper had been found, they
 
 Michael and Theodora. 119 
 
 proved, when brought to the Prince's 
 notice, utterly worthless. 
 
 The whole palace, and especially the 
 schoolroom, was subjected to the samo 
 radical search. Indeed Mr. Cecil, having 
 been told by Prince Sergius that the 
 loss regarded a large sum of money, de 
 manded a strict search of the apartments 
 he occupied. Sergius protested his per 
 fect confidence in Mr. Cecil's integrity. 
 He said he would not subject a gentle 
 man to such an indignity ; but really he 
 did suspect Michael. The boy had bad 
 parents. He was a bad boy. He was 
 sure he was quite capable of theft, there 
 fore he would search Michael's room and 
 clothing. 
 
 The boy submitted to this indignity 
 without a word. He was afraid if he 
 opened his mouth he would receive the 
 lash ; and if Prince Sergius degraded 
 him so far, he knew that hi:? heart would 
 break. And now it was only to be
 
 I2O Michael and Theodora. 
 
 patient a little longer, a few more days. 
 So he stood up, pale and speechless, 
 while his uncle made the serfs turn 
 his poor belongings over and over. He 
 said not a word when the clothes he 
 wore were stripped from him and exam 
 ined inch by inch. He was silently pray 
 ing for patience and strength; and Mr. 
 Cecil stood by his side, and warned and 
 supported him in ways unseen and unsus 
 pected by his tormentor. Even when no 
 trace of the paper was discovered, the 
 Prince found it impossible to dismiss his 
 fear and suspicion. His heart told him 
 that the letter had been found. 
 
 Every day he became more frantically 
 brutal. The sharp, never-to-be-mistaken 
 sound of the lash cracked upon the frosty 
 air every day ; and the cries of the slaves, 
 tortured for the most trifling offences, 
 made Mr. Cecil and Michael sick and 
 dumb with terror. Both felt that they 
 were in the power of a madman. Several
 
 Michael and Theodora. 121 
 
 times they fled from his approach, and 
 remained in hiding until he had drunk 
 himself into insensibility. The days were 
 terrible ; the nights still more so ; even 
 Mr. Cecil wept sometimes, wept with 
 that sad impatience which feels that its 
 misery comes from the neglect of those it 
 has trusted. 
 
 For why did no one come to their 
 relief? Count Vasil must know that, as 
 soon as Prince Sergius discovered the loss 
 of the letter, their lives would be intoler 
 able, and not even safe. He regretted 
 
 now that he had not gone himself with 
 the Countess Vasil back to St. Peters 
 burg. He would have moved heaven and 
 earth ere this for Michael's relief. Theo 
 dora and her aunt had so many womanly 
 pleasures! They would not hurry, or 
 press the matter. 
 
 Then, again, they assured themselves 
 of Theodora's love. She knew all they 
 would suffer. Was it likely she would
 
 122 Michael and Theodora, 
 
 take any pleasure while they were in 
 mortal peril? Could her own safety 
 make their misery to be forgotten ? No, 
 no! a thousand times no! Michael was as 
 sure of his sister's love and fidelity as he 
 was of his own existence. 
 
 One afternoon, after fifteen days of this 
 anxiety, Mr. Cecil said to Michael, " My 
 dear boy, we must try and escape. Death 
 is better than such a life of terror. I 
 have a pair of pistols. I will load them 
 well. If we are overtaken, what shall I 
 do, Michael?" 
 
 " If you love me, dear teacher, slay 
 me. Suffer them not to touch me. My 
 uncle will bring me back and flog me to 
 death. A bullet through my heart will 
 be a great mercy." 
 
 Mr. Cecil drew the child to his breast 
 and wept bitterly. But he whispered, 
 " You are quite right, Michael. We can 
 not fall into the hands of Prince Sergius. 
 It will be far better to trust to the love
 
 Micliacl and Theodora. 123 
 
 of the Merciful One. Still, it is only in 
 extremity that we must dare such an act. 
 I still believe that God, the hearer of 
 prayer, will send us help." 
 
 "But if it comes to the worst, how 
 shall we escape? Without a swift horse 
 and a sledge, the idea is an impossible 
 one." 
 
 "I know. Last night, after you 
 slept. I went down-stairs. Your uncle 
 Sergius was insensible ; the serfs were 
 sleeping or drinking ; no one noticed 
 me as I passed through the house and 
 went to the stables. It is true, the dogs 
 growled, but I spoke to them and they 
 recognized my voice and were satisfied. 
 Your uncle's own horse and sledge will 
 be most convenient. The sledge is an 
 extremely light one ; the horses are 
 swifter than any other in this district." 
 
 " But there are men in the stables all 
 night long?" 
 
 " There were two hostlers on duty, but
 
 124 MicJiael and Theodora. 
 
 they were so drunken that I easily filled 
 two bags with oats and hid them away; 
 for we must take food for the horses 
 with us, as we shall not dare to stop at any 
 inn within a hundred miles of Bazaroff ." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I understand." 
 
 "And for ourselves, also, I have put 
 aside some bread and meat. But until 
 it is surely necessary to save life, we 
 will not run away: if that pinch comes 
 then, my dear Michael, it will be our 
 duty to fly." 
 
 " All seems possible, dear teacher, that 
 you have planned, if the servants in the 
 stable should be in a deep sleep ; but 
 if they should awaken, what then ? " 
 
 " I alone will enter the stable. If the 
 men awake, I shall say, ' This is a case of 
 life and death. The Prince is insensible. 
 I am going for help. Haste with the 
 swiftest horses and a sledge.'" 
 
 "The men may go at once to Prince 
 Sergius."
 
 Michael and Theodora. 125 
 
 "We shall not leave until the Prince 
 is unconscious ; and when he does awa 
 ken, they will fear to be the first to tell 
 him. They will hesitate and consult and 
 lose much time." 
 
 " Then, perhaps, the poor men may 
 suffer in our place." 
 
 " I am glad you thought of that pos 
 sibility, Michael. It shows you have a 
 kind and considerate heart. I have also 
 thought of that likelihood and made some 
 inquiries. The men will not suffer. It 
 is the habit of the servants to excuse all 
 their faults by asserting that they came to 
 Prince Sergius about any wrong matter, 
 and that they found him too ' busy ' to 
 listen to their information, or to give them 
 any orders. And the Prince knows that 
 ' busy ' is a considerate way of saying 
 ' drunk,' and he is prudent enough to 
 reflect that the estate would soon be in 
 chaos if he punished the servants for his 
 own drunkenness."
 
 126 Michael and TJieodora. 
 
 "I wish, then, that God would visit us 
 here, or even one of the least of his holy 
 angels. Why does not help come ? Has 
 God forgotten to be gracious? I think 
 that this house is like hell. Perhaps, 
 indeed, no good angel can enter it." 
 
 "Though we make our bed in hell, 
 even there God is with us ; and thou 
 knowest, Michael, that in the valley of 
 the shadow of death he has promised to 
 comfort us. It is true, I have been talk 
 ing to thee, poor little one, of running 
 away; but indeed I surely think the God 
 of salvation will visit us here." 
 
 Then there fell a great silence between 
 them. It was snowing heavily outside, 
 and it was dreary and chill beyond ex 
 pression within the large desolate dwell 
 ing. Suddenly there was a faint, un 
 usual noise, the noise of a far-off sledge, 
 and the soft tinkle of the bells, and the 
 beat of the horse's feet on the frozen 
 snow, came nearer and nearer. Michael
 
 Michael and Theodora. 127 
 
 rose and went to one of the windows 
 overlooking the court. The vehicle was 
 just entering the gate. He turned like a 
 flash and touched the master, who was 
 bending disconsolately over the stove. 
 
 "Master! Master! Here is Matrina 
 at last! Thank God!" 
 
 "Thank God, Michael! Remember, 
 my boy, what Matrina's simple presence 
 here means. It means that the letter is 
 delivered ; that all is well ; that God 
 has visited us in our affliction ! When 
 did he ever break his promise? When 
 did he ever forsake those who trust in 
 him? Jehovah is a very present help in 
 time of trouble." 
 
 He kept softly repeating such blessed 
 promises, and Michael's heart echoed 
 them, but further they could not talk. 
 They had passed beyond speech. They 
 were listening and waiting ; and hour 
 after hour went by and there was no 
 change. Michael's face settled hopelessly.
 
 128 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 " I have been mistaken," he said. " I 
 will go to bed. To sleep a little while 
 and to forget, that is all now possible." 
 
 He was interrupted by the faint echo 
 of a voice singing. The sound was un 
 usual ; the voice was Matrina's. She was 
 singing to let them know of her pres 
 ence. But ere they could certainly say, 
 " It is Matrina singing," they heard 
 Prince Sergius speak in an angry tone. 
 A door was violently closed, and the 
 singing ceased. 
 
 " Nevertheless, it is Matrina" said Mr. 
 Cecil. " Go to bed, my dear Michael. I 
 will watch for her visit. She will come 
 when Prince Sergius has lost the power 
 to prevent her coming." 
 
 Mr. Cecil was right. Towards the mid 
 night Matrina softly opened the school 
 room door. Her face spoke the glad 
 tidings before her tongue. Mr. Cecil 
 called Michael very softly, and the boy 
 came. Matrina took him in her arms.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 129 
 
 " We are all saved, my Prince ! " she 
 said. " The letter has been read by the 
 Czar himself. The ukase making the most 
 noble Prince Ivan a grand marshal of the 
 Empire is given already, and the officers 
 of justice to arrest Prince Sergius follow 
 quickly in my footsteps. A few days 
 even a few hours and the trouble will 
 have gone away forever ! " 
 
 She spoke rapidly, throwing her hands 
 downward with every word ; and her face, 
 though but the flat, plain face of a Rus 
 sian peasant, was irradiated with a great 
 light from her rejoicing heart. 
 
 "Why have you kept us waiting so 
 long, Matrina ? To-night I went to bed 
 broken-hearted." 
 
 " Ah, my little one, could I help it ? 
 Prince Sergius, having read the letter 
 which I brought from Count Vasil, sud 
 denly turned very suspicious. 'It is a 
 little thing the Count sends you back 
 for,' he said, with a frown. * Is this all ?
 
 130 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Speak thou and speak the truth, or the 
 lash shall whip it out of thee.' '' 
 
 " How did you then pacify him ? " 
 
 " I said, ' It is not quite all, my Prince. 
 I was very miserable in the great city. 
 I wished to come back to my companions. 
 The Count Vasil said there was a call 
 for the papers, and it would be well for 
 you to prepare them.' '' 
 
 " ' But then,' he asked, ' why a call 
 now, after all these years? It is most 
 unlikely.' Then he questioned me very 
 sharply about the lost letter, and I was 
 afraid." 
 
 "O Matrina! You surely did not 
 tell?" 
 
 " How could you think it possible ? 
 No, no! I declared most truly that I 
 saw no such paper at Bazaroff. He 
 asked me if the Countess Vasil was his 
 enemy, and I answered that in my pres 
 ence she had not spoken of him, either 
 good or bad. But he is uneasy, and he
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 131 
 
 has been drinking hard. In the morning 
 he will be a monster ; there is no doubt 
 of that." 
 
 " But," said Mr. Cecil, " there are ten 
 hours ere he will come to himself, and in 
 ten hours God may bring many good 
 things to pass. While we are sleeping, 
 those who are appointed to come will 
 come swiftly." 
 
 And Matrina answered, " I will now 
 go away, because my orders from Prince 
 Sergius were strict in this matter. He 
 said, ' If thou but speak to the boy 
 Michael, or give him the least sign or 
 message, I will make thee to weep for it 
 to thy dying day.' See, then, in what 
 danger I am." 
 
 So Matrina went away, and Michael 
 and Mr. Cecil put out the solitary candle 
 and sat in the dark, whispering comfort to 
 each other. They could not sleep, their 
 hearts were so full of hopes and of fears. 
 They could not help speculating as to
 
 132 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 what Prince Sergius would do when 
 he was arrested. They tried to make 
 some plan to be out of his way, for they 
 knew well it would be a most critical 
 moment. 
 
 And that night Prince Sergius could 
 not sleep either. He had been taken to 
 his bed by his serfs when he was no 
 longer sensible enough to resist them ; 
 and they had left him alone to sleep off 
 his debauch. About ten the next morn 
 ing they supposed he would open his 
 heavy red eyes and call for brandy and 
 coffee. But long before that hour, in the 
 bitter chill and deep darkness which pre 
 cedes the dawn, Prince Sergius awoke in 
 a great terror, a terror so great that it 
 quite sobered him. He was in a sweat of 
 agony, and he cowered among the bed 
 clothes like a frightened child. He rung 
 bell after bell with a frenzied force, and 
 he called every servant in the palace. He 
 wanted light and company. He wanted,
 
 Michael and Theodora. 133 
 
 his servants to talk to him, and they were 
 afraid. Then he sent for Mr. Cecil. 
 
 " I am a fool, sir," he said, with a 
 forced laugh. " I have had a dream a 
 very bad dream ! It has terrified me. I 
 know not what to think of it ; I have 
 been drinking very hard, I suppose ? " 
 
 ' You have been drinking very hard 
 indeed, Prince," Mr. Cecil answered. 
 
 " But why should I be afraid of a 
 dream ? It is indeed folly." 
 
 " Sometimes the Great and Holy One 
 speaks to the children of men in dreams. 
 If he speaks, then even the kings of the 
 earth tremble. What did you dream ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you a dream of horror 
 of evil for evil of death without 
 mercy. I cannot rid myself of it I can 
 not drink it away I am afraid to drink. 
 Something is going to happen. Mr. Cecil, 
 I have always been kind to you?" 
 
 " Yes, Prince." 
 
 "Then do not leave me. What is
 
 134 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 coming to me? Is it death? If I am 
 sick, send to Moscow for a physician. 
 Spare no expense. Care for me with 
 your own hands. I can trust you. When 
 I am well, I will make you rich. I swear 
 it ! But it is not sickness it is Oh, 
 Mr. Cecil, what is it?" 
 
 " I know not, Prince." 
 
 " And I know not some nameless 
 terror. I wonder if it be possible to fly 
 from it! I will go to Moscow, to St. 
 Petersburg." 
 
 Then he became silent, and walked up 
 and down the room in an agony of appre 
 hension. Frequently he glanced behind 
 himself as if he was followed, as indeed 
 he was, by the memories of his many 
 crimes. He did not talk to Mr. Cecil, yet 
 he begged him to stay by his side. 
 
 At length the dawn came, gray and 
 misty, with the promise of much snow in 
 its damp, depressing atmosphere. The 
 servants made breakfast and brought it
 
 Michael and Theodora. 135 
 
 in while yet it was candlelight. Prince 
 Sergius eat like a man in a hurry, or 
 going on a long journey, as he really was, 
 though as yet he did not know, he only 
 felt, the fate before him. 
 
 But as the daylight came, and with it 
 the quite usual snow, and all the customary 
 duties and occupations of the day, the 
 miserable Prince began to throw off the 
 appalling influence of the night terrors. 
 He sent for his servants and bullied one, 
 and punished another, and sent some here 
 and some there, and finally gave the word 
 for Matrina to come to him. 
 
 " Thou wilt go back to St. Petersburg 
 to-day. I will get the papers wanted for 
 thee to carry. Dost hear ? " 
 
 " Pardon, great Prince ! Let some other 
 be sent. I beg thee that I may stay here 
 with my old, dear companions." 
 
 " I thought that thy young mistress 
 was the world and its fulness to thee. 
 How is this, then?"
 
 136 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 " My young Princess has now many 
 friends and many new servants. What 
 am I when there are so many ? I pray 
 thee, Prince, that I may remain at Baza- 
 roff." 
 
 He seemed much pleased at her re 
 quest, and granted it. Then he went to 
 his secretary and began to arrange the 
 papers to be sent to Count Vasil, and Mr. 
 Cecil perceived that he might now obtain 
 permission to go to his own duties. 
 
 Michael was dressed and had an air of 
 expectation. "I am sure that something 
 is going to happen, dear master," he said. 
 "This morning I am not able to study. 
 I must sit still and watch." 
 
 And, oh! how long are hours that are 
 watched away. Tick-tick went the dreary 
 old inexorable clock. It would not hurry 
 for Michael's feverish anxiety. Hour 
 after hour of the common, every-day life ! 
 Nine o'clock ! Ten o'clock ! Eleven ! 
 And as eleven struck, a man driving for
 
 Michael and Theodora. 137 
 
 life or death came into sight, a black spot 
 on the far horizon. Michael stood up 
 breathless. The sledge came nearer and 
 nearer. ''Open! Open! Open!' 1 '' its occu 
 pant cried as he approached the gates. 
 Once in the court he gasped the name of 
 Prince Sergius, and with his last strength 
 dropped a letter at his feet. 
 
 The letter was from Alexander Kergoff. 
 After betraying his confederates, he asked 
 permission to communicate with Prince 
 Sergius Bazaroff. The authorities were 
 doubtless aware of his purpose, but they 
 were not averse to the sending of the 
 "warning" which it was evident Kergoff 
 intended. The prosecution of Sergius 
 Bazaroff would involve other nobles of 
 high rank. It was hoped by many of 
 the officials that Sergius would "exile 
 himself," and spare other great families 
 their share of the Emperor's wrath. So 
 Kergoff was permitted to write to his 
 colleague, and the letter dropped at the
 
 138 Micliacl and Theodora. 
 
 feet of Sergius Bazaroff was the message 
 sent : 
 
 Friend Sergius Bazaroff: 
 
 We are discovered, and thou wilt have 
 the price to pay. Had thou been less 
 saving of thy gold, thou might have 
 saved thy life. Thy brother, Prince Ivan, 
 is free ; is made a grand marshal, and is 
 .placed near the Emperor's person. The 
 little girl did it all. The letter I wrote 
 thee she found and gave to Count Vasil, 
 and so on till it came to the Czar's own 
 hand. Very well, thou wilt pay now far 
 more than the two thousand rubles I 
 asked of thee ; thou wilt pay in blood 
 and in life drops. Still, I and thee have 
 drank many a night away together ; thou 
 art a comrade, and so I say unto thee, 
 Fly! Fly for thy life! Fly to escape 
 the knout ! Fly from worse than death ! 
 As for me, I shall doubtless go to prison, 
 and it is all thine own fault. 
 
 ALEXANDER KERGOFF.
 
 Michael and Theodora, 139 
 
 This was the terror he had dreamed 
 about that his soul apprehended 
 whose coming had cast such shadows of 
 dread and horror before it. Prince Ser- 
 gius, for once, found no words for his 
 passion. He stamped, and foamed at 
 the mouth, and ordered his sledge in a 
 scarcely articulate shout. And then, in 
 bounding leaps, like the running of a wild 
 animal, he flew up the staircase to the 
 schoolroom.
 
 VII. 
 
 " He releaseth the prisoners. He giveth glad- 
 Bess of heart." 
 
 "For the Lord knoweth all them that sin 
 against him, and therefore delivereth he them 
 unto death and destruction." 
 
 TT was the eve of the Epiphany, and 
 A the Christmas festivities in Count 
 Vasil's house were nearly over. On the 
 morrow the forty "dear companions" 
 were to separate, and they were already 
 exchanging trinkets, and locks of hair, 
 and promises of remembrance^ Perhaps 
 in each young heart there was a little of 
 that sadness which comes after joy that is 
 long continued. 
 
 Theodora was also a little disappointed. 
 She had fully believed that in one of the 
 "holy evenings" between Christmas and 
 Epiphany her parents would certainly
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 141 
 
 arrive. So, amid all her happiness, she 
 was constantly thinking of a still greater 
 happiness coming to her; and it had not 
 come. 
 
 " It takes such a long time for a good 
 thing to arrive," she said to her aunt. " I 
 am so much disappointed, aunt. Here is 
 the eve of the Epiphany, and to-morrow it 
 will be only the common world again." 
 
 " To be sure, that is the truth," answered 
 the Countess. "I, too, am a little disap 
 pointed, and also a little weary. But 
 then we must not get neglectful at the 
 last. And here are the stars. We must 
 go out to welcome the Epiphany stars." 
 
 "Here are the stars," cried Theodora. 
 " Here they come ! With such a holy air 
 they come, one by one, into the calm sky." 
 
 Then the Countess rose and went into 
 a room where the children were sitting 
 telling stories to one another, and she 
 cried, 
 
 " Children, here are the Epiphany stars,
 
 142 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 and no little girls to greet them! Fie! 
 Fie ! This is a neglect not to be excused 
 by many words." 
 
 Then there was a calling aloud, and a 
 running about for maids, and pelisses, and 
 muffs, and caps, and very soon the whole 
 forty children were standing together 
 in the open court, singing the parting 
 song : 
 
 "O stars! stars! 
 Dear little stars ! 
 All ye, O stars ! 
 Are the fair children, 
 Ruddy and white, 
 Of one mother. 
 
 Send forth through the christened world, 
 Dispensers of happiness ! " 
 
 And as they were solemnly and happily 
 singing, some one called for Theodora in 
 an eager, startled voice. She stood silent 
 a moment, and then fled into the house. 
 There was a tall man in the hall, covered 
 with furs, and Count Vasil was kissing 
 his cheeks and shaking both his hands; 
 and, also, there was a lady lying back in
 
 Michael and Theodora. 143 
 
 a large chair, and the Countess Vasil was 
 chafing her hands and crying over her, 
 and the moment Theodora saw the white, 
 sweet face lying on the black fox furs, 
 she knew it was her mother's face, and she 
 flew to her with outspread arms, crying 
 out, "Mother! mother! Oh, my dear 
 mother ! " 
 
 She was in her father's arms at last. 
 She was folded to her mother's heart. 
 She was kissed and fondled with all those 
 sweet pet names that good girls love ; 
 but far more joyful was it to hear father 
 call her their "deliverer," their "good 
 angel," their "blessed daughter"! And 
 that night Theodora did not remain with 
 her dear companions ; she was with her 
 parents. But they all rejoiced with her, 
 and were glad because of so happy a 
 reason for her absence. Ere they went 
 to bed, Maria Stromnow made up a song 
 of thanksgiving to God and the Czar; 
 and they sang it before the door of the
 
 144 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Princess Nadia. It was a very pretty 
 song, and every line ended with the 
 Russian cry of " Slaw >a!" which means 
 " glory ! " And the Princess Nadia was 
 much pleased and affected when she heard 
 the sweet, shrill voices of the forty children 
 singing praise and thanksgiving for her 
 return to her home, and friends, and 
 freedom. 
 
 At first there was so much to say that 
 nothing was quite certain. Every ques 
 tion and answer was confused by their 
 irrepressible exclamations of gratitude to 
 God and love towards each other. But 
 at length, when they had eaten together 
 and were calmer, they began to talk of 
 the great event which had brought 
 about the restoration of Prince Ivan, and 
 the justification of his loyalty and honor. 
 Neither the Prince nor Princess had heard 
 the particulars, and Theodora, sitting on 
 her father's knee, and clasped by his arm, 
 told again every event of that fateful
 
 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 day, when Kergoff had bullied Prince 
 Sergius, and the latter, in the delirium of 
 his rage and drunkenness, had lost the 
 letter which Michael found. 
 
 " So you see it was Michael, after all, 
 whom God chose, dear father and mother. 
 It was to Michael, God sent the white 
 paper." 
 
 " The white paper which opened the 
 prison doors for your mother and I, Theo 
 dora ! And then consider, my child, how 
 the kind, wise God made all things work 
 together ; for the paper might still have 
 been in Mr. Cecil's collar had not our 
 dear sister, the Countess Vasil, just at 
 that very time sought and received the 
 Czar's permission to take charge of your 
 education. Then, again, consider how 
 useless the paper would have been even in 
 St. Petersburg, if it had not fallen into 
 such wise, brave hands the hands of 
 your dear uncle Vasil, for they rested not 
 until they had passed the mighty piece of
 
 146 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 white paper into the mighty hands of the 
 great Czar. It is all the Lord's doing ! It 
 is altogether wonderful ! Slawa ! Slawa ! " 
 
 Then the Princess Nadia raised herself 
 suddenly from her couch and said, "But 
 Michael ? We must hasten to Michael ! 
 Tell us what you have heard of our good 
 son. And what news is there from 
 Bazaroff? Who has been to tell of the 
 arrest of that base wretch, Sergius Baza 
 roff? Surely, ere this hour, he is in the 
 hands of the men appointed to punish 
 such miserable ingrates ! " 
 
 "We have no news of importance from 
 Bazaroff," answered the Count. " We 
 expected you to return by that route and 
 to call there. Indeed, Michael and Mr. 
 Cecil were confidently looking for you, 
 and for this reason they declined our 
 invitation to come to us. 'How sad would 
 be my parents' return to their home if 
 there was no one to welcome them! I 
 will, therefore, remain to meet them, and
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 147 
 
 this will be my Christmas joy.' It was 
 thus and likewise Mr. Cecil wrote for 
 Michael and for himself, and since that 
 letter we have heard nothing at all cer 
 tain. But then, as every one is aware, 
 no news is the best of all news : for if 
 there was any misfortune it would have 
 brought its own tidings, quick as a bird 
 flies." 
 
 " But surely Sergius is not yet there ! " 
 cried Prince Ivan. " Surely our Michael 
 is not yet in the power of one so false 
 and so cruel ! " 
 
 "Ivan," cried the Princess, "we must 
 go at once. There must not be a mo 
 ment's delay. Who knows what torture 
 our dear boy is suffering?" 
 
 "Sergius has fled," said Count Vasil. 
 " That much is certainly known. But in 
 deed I am astonished that you came not 
 by Bazaroff." 
 
 " We thought it best to come direct to 
 our Emperor. We will not sneak home
 
 148 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 as to a hiding place. I said to Nadia, ' We 
 will go first of all to St. Petersburg, and 
 cast ourselves at the Czar's feet. We will 
 show him that, in spite of our wrongs and 
 our sufferings, we come first of all to him, 
 whom we never were faithless to no, 
 not by a thought.' " 
 
 " That was a very wise thing to do," 
 said Count Vasil. " You did exactly 
 right. To-morrow you can offer your 
 homage, and then whatever there is to be 
 known, that you will be told," 
 
 And the Princess Nadia, being exceed 
 ingly weary, was thankful for a day's rest. 
 If Sergius had fled, and Michael had the 
 care and company of Mr. Cecil, the boy 
 was not either in sorrow or danger. 
 " God has been so good," she said, " as to 
 so arrange matters that my dear daughter 
 is at my side ; therefore, I can wait pa 
 tiently until the Prince has expressed his 
 loyalty, and done those things which are 
 necessary to his new position."
 
 Michael and Theodora. 149 
 
 But a swift messenger was sent to Baz- 
 aroff with the glad tidings of the return 
 of the exiles, and the promise that in a 
 few days they would follow their letter ; 
 and. in the mean time, Michael was to 
 assure himself that all was well for the 
 future. And this messenger was well 
 sent, because it was nearly a week before 
 they could prudently start for Bazaroff. 
 Many things relating to Prince Ivan's 
 great office had to be attended to, and the 
 Princess Nadia soon discovered that she 
 was destitute of civilized clothing, and 
 also of many other things necessary to 
 her welfare and comfort. It is true she 
 would not have thought of these things 
 if there had not been the imperative duty 
 of delay in regard to the public affairs of 
 Prince Ivan ; but as the delay was neces 
 sary, she did all that was possible to 
 improve the time. 
 
 And Theodora, who had become quite 
 familiar with the great city, and with the
 
 150 Michael and Tkcodora. 
 
 fashions of it, was delighted to accom 
 pany her dear mother and aunt to the 
 magazines of silks and laces and fine 
 linens. She would scarcely loosen her 
 clasp from her mother's hand. It seemed 
 yet such an impossible joy that she 
 feared to awaken as from a dream and 
 find herself " motherless " once more. 
 Little girls will understand how happy 
 Theodora was in this new companionship; 
 and yet how she feared it might in some 
 way be again taken from her. 
 
 After all, she was delighted when, 
 at last, one clear cold morning they 
 started in high spirits for Bazaroff. 
 The Prince and Princess were in a 
 handsome sledge, drawn by four strong, 
 swift horses, and Theodora sat at their 
 feet, in the bottom of the sledge, cud 
 dled up in the furs, with her head rest- 
 ing against her dear father and mother. 
 And every little while her father stroked 
 her rosy cheeks, and her mother stooped
 
 Michael and Theodora. 151 
 
 and kissed her ; and when they came to 
 an inn, Prince Ivan, after assisting the 
 Princess, always came for his little daugh 
 ter and carried her in his arms to the 
 warm stove. 
 
 She did not think this journey sad and 
 tiresome. She chattered, and slept, and 
 thought of the happy times before Michael 
 and herself, and she was as merry as a 
 spring song bird. Yet as they came near 
 to Bazaroff she noticed a little anxious 
 cloud on the face of Prince Ivan. And 
 by and by he spoke of the thing which 
 was making him feel anxious and un 
 certain. He said, 
 
 "Now that we are so near our home, 
 I think it right to mention a report that 
 came to St. Petersburg the very day 
 before we left. I think little about it; 
 it wanted every proof ; but, however, it 
 is this : that just before Prince Sergius 
 fled, he had a quarrel with Mr. Cecil, 
 whom he accused of stealing the letter,
 
 152 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 and that shots were fired, and it was 
 thought the tutor was wounded seriously. 
 Again, it was thought it' was among the 
 serfs he discharged his pistol as he left 
 the palace." 
 
 " But why, dear Ivan ? What had the 
 serfs done ? He must have had a reason 
 for such cruelty. " 
 
 " On the face of the head steward he 
 saw a smile, and on the faces of all some 
 thing which angered him. He thought, 
 doubtless, that every one was in the con 
 spiracy against him, and he fired into a 
 group who stood around the steward in 
 the courtyard. I heard that three were 
 dead, and others wounded. I think the 
 whole story improbable, or, at least, very 
 much exaggerated." 
 
 " Yet it makes me very anxious in my 
 heart. Theodora has often told us how 
 Sergius hated our Michael. I am afraid 
 it is our dear son who is hurt. Can we 
 not make more speed ? "
 
 The escape from Bozaroff.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 153 
 
 "The horses are doing their utmost; 
 and if the heir to a great name and estate 
 had been wounded in the least, that would 
 have been a thing for certainty. We 
 should have heard the smallest particu 
 lar. To hurt Michael is a wound to the 
 Empire ; the Czar himself would have 
 been informed. And I am sure Mr. Cecil 
 would protect Michael, even with his own 
 life." 
 
 " Then it is most likely Mr. Cecil who 
 suffers. And he is our tried friend. I 
 am now most anxious to reach Bazaroff. 
 And yet I fear, lest I am hurrying to 
 meet trouble." 
 
 " I do not fear any calamity. Sergius 
 was ever a great coward. He would 
 think only of his own safety. If he was 
 bent on flight, nothing on earth would 
 stay him for one moment." 
 
 Still, after this confidence, the Princess 
 and Theodora found themselves unable to 
 converse. They were watching for the
 
 154 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 first glimpse of the rounded towers of 
 Bazaroff. It was the middle of the day 
 when they saw them. As they drew 
 nearer, it was evident that they were 
 watched for and expected. They could 
 see the people gathering around the vast, 
 square building, standing in the midst of 
 its bare, white plain. Their dark figures 
 upon the dazzling snow, and against the 
 still, clear horizon, were sharply defined. 
 And the gates stood open, and the 
 bloodhounds were scampering about the 
 outskirts of the palace. 
 
 There was a solitary figure at the en 
 trance, and the Prince Ivan said de 
 cidedly, "It is Mr. Cecil. Therefore, 
 dear Nadia, he is not injured." 
 
 The Princess did not answer, neither 
 did Theodora. There were fears in each 
 heart they did not like to voice ; but 
 when they reached the palace, and saw no 
 one but Mr. Cecil and Matrina to welcome 
 them, the father and mother and sister of
 
 Michael and TJicodora. 155 
 
 Michael turned pale as if smitten with 
 death. The serfs indeed crowded around 
 the sledge with affectionate greetings and 
 tears of joy ; but Prince Ivan found it 
 difficult to answer. He could only lay his 
 hands across his breast, and then out 
 stretch them with a blessing ; and as he 
 did so, they entered the court, and Mr. 
 Cecil and Matrina were at their side. 
 
 There was a moment of silent embra 
 cing, and then Prince Ivan said in a voice 
 of terror, " But where, then, is Michael ? " 
 And the poor mother looked eagerly into 
 Mr. Cecil's face, for she was speechless 
 with fear, while Theodora cried out, 
 
 " Michael ! Michael ! Where is Mi 
 chael, Matrina?" 
 
 " Michael is ill," answered the tutor 
 gravely. " He is very ill. Just now he 
 is sleeping heavily. He has taken a pow 
 erful narcotic. Watching had made him 
 so feverish, I thought it best to put him 
 to sleep."
 
 156 Micliacl and Theodora. 
 
 "111! 111! Michael ill!" All were 
 filled with a quick terror of some great 
 misfortune, and no other word was spoken 
 until they were in the great dining-hall, 
 where Matrina laid the Princess on a 
 couch, and the Prince and Theodora and 
 Mr. Cecil stood by her side. 
 
 Then the Prince asked, u What has 
 happened to Michael, Mr. Cecil?" and 
 Mr. Cecil, speaking with a kind of 
 triumph, answered, 
 
 " Nothing to weep for or to lament 
 over. I think, indeed, that Michael gives 
 you the grandest of welcomes." 
 
 "But he is ill! And how then ? And 
 why?" 
 
 "He was shot by Prince Sergius!" 
 
 " Permit me I must go at once to my 
 boy." 
 
 " Pardon, my Princess. He is at the pres 
 ent hour not to be disturbed with safety. 
 Listen with patience. I assure you there 
 is no occasion for weeping, or for hurry."
 
 MicJiael and Theodora. 157 
 
 " To be sure ! " said the Prince. " Let 
 us be quiet and patient. How was our 
 dear boy shot?" 
 
 "I will tell you all. On the morning 
 that Prince Sergius received the 'warn 
 ing ' from Kergoff that all their plot was 
 discovered, and he himself in prison, the 
 Prince came to the schoolroom in a storm 
 of raging passion. I heard him coming, 
 and I knew that we had to face a mad 
 man. You could hear him breathing like 
 a wild animal ere he flung the door wide 
 open and stood within the room. 
 
 u I perceived that he was dangerous, 
 and I ordered Michael to go away, but 
 his uncle would not suffer him. He 
 seized the boy by the throat, and so com 
 pelled him to listen to words that are not 
 fit to be repeated. 
 
 "Michael looked bravely in his face. 
 ' You are stronger than I am, and I must 
 stand,' he said, ' but I do not listen ! You 
 are only lyiny about those whose names
 
 158 Micliacl and Theodora. 
 
 you should fear to speak.'' Then Sergius 
 struck Michael in the face ; but the boy 
 was not daunted. He spoke the more 
 loudly and firmly, 'My father is truth 
 and honor! My mother is like the anyeh! 
 It is you, Prince Sergius, who are a liar, 
 and a thief, and a cowardly Judas ! ' I 
 thought surely that Prince Sergius would 
 at these words strangle the child, and I 
 strove to take him from his grasp and 
 partially succeeded, but Michael was by 
 this time beyond all fear or care, and 
 he continued, 'Kill me if you so please. 
 What do I care now? I know that my 
 father and mother are free ! I know that 
 the Emperor has heard all! I know that 
 my father will be here soon, that he is 
 coming now!'' 
 
 " At these words Prince Sergius turned 
 in mortal terror, and I took advantage 
 of his fear. 'I beseech you to fly, Prince,' 
 I said. ' Your sledge is at the door ! It 
 is, indeed, your life or death.' ' You are
 
 MicJiacl and Tlieodora. 159 
 
 a pack of traitors,' lie screamed. ' You 
 boy ! and you Englishman ! and you ! 
 and you ! ' He lired three times at 
 Michael as he spoke, then at myself, and 
 again and again at the serfs who had 
 gathered on the steps and in the court. 
 Some of them cursed him ; and there 
 was a decided movement to prevent him 
 leaving Bazaroff. But he seized the reins 
 and the whip, and so, lashing those who 
 came within reach of the lashes, he left 
 Bazaroff in a frantic gallop, and there 
 has been nothing heard or seen of him 
 since that hour." 
 
 "But were not officers of justice here 
 to arrest him?" 
 
 " Yes ; they searched the neighbor 
 hood for the road he had taken ; but it 
 was snowing when he left, and it snowed 
 for three days afterwards, so that all 
 tracks made by the horses and sledge 
 were obliterated as soon as made." 
 
 " And what has been done for Michael ?
 
 160 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 Is he likely to live ? " asked the sorrowful 
 parents. 
 
 " I sent to Malkoff for the famous 
 Dr. Livadin. At first the wounds did 
 well, but he has suffered much, and is 
 likely to suffer for many months. How 
 ever, there are good hopes for the dear 
 child's life." 
 
 Thus they sat and talked for some 
 time of the great tragedy which had been 
 enacted in all their lives, and softly and 
 full of love the parents and sister of the 
 little hero went to his bedside and 
 watched for his awakening ; but it was 
 not until the sun dropped low that 
 Michael opened his eyes. 
 
 He found his father bending over him, 
 and in a moment his mother and Theo 
 dora were kissing him with tears of pity 
 and joy. Is it possible to imagine all 
 they said to him? No, it is impossible. 
 For at first, speech was too poor a vehicle 
 for their emotion. The meeting eyes,
 
 Michael and Theodora. 161 
 
 the meeting lips, the smiles and sighs, 
 the hands clasping his hands, were far 
 more eloquent voices. 
 
 Poor little wasted hands, wasted with 
 fever and suffering. His mother kissed 
 and wept over them. His father praised 
 his bravery and honor, and said he 
 could have done no less, and no better, 
 than he did. 
 
 " Had you permitted any one to defame 
 your father's and your mother's good 
 name, how then could you have defended 
 your own ? " he asked. " Our honor is 
 yours, my dear son ; and I thank God, I 
 have a son so brave and so true." 
 
 After this Michael improved rapidly. 
 He was nursed by his mother. His mind 
 was relieved from all anxiety. He had 
 nothing to fear, nothing to do but get 
 well ; and his recovery was more perfect 
 than his physician had at first hoped, or 
 dared to promise. When the summer 
 came, he was able to walk a little, leaning
 
 1 62 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 on his father's arm ; and though he was 
 long weak, he was neither crippled nor 
 disfigured by the three bullets, which 
 had been his uncle's parting evidence of 
 hatred and revenge. 
 
 There was only one complaint to 
 make: Prince Ivan thought that Count 
 Vasil ought to have been informed of 
 Michael's condition ; and he doubted 
 whether, in this matter, Mr. Cecil had 
 done wisely to be silent. Hut Mr. 
 Cecil said, " Michael entreated me not 
 to send any word which would shadow his 
 sister's first Christmas. He thought he 
 would be out of danger when she came 
 back, and as for the suffering, he bore 
 that without complaint." And Mr. Cecil 
 added, " You must also see, Prince, that 
 it was prudent to let the patient have 
 whatever was necessary to keep his 
 mind at ease." 
 
 "I see indeed that you have done all 
 things well, Mr. Cecil," answered Prince
 
 MicJiacl and Theodora. 163 
 
 Ivan. " You have been my great, true 
 friend. In a whole lifetime, I can 
 never love you enough. What shall 1 
 do to show my love ? " 
 
 " Suffer me to remain with Michael." 
 
 " That is but another favor on your 
 part." 
 
 So the tutor and scholar remained 
 close companions. They studied to 
 gether, and they travelled together, and 
 they did not part for one day, until 
 Michael was ready to take his com 
 mission from the Emperor, and join the 
 regiment which his father, Prince Ivan, 
 commanded. Then Mr. Cecil went back 
 to England, and he married a fair 
 sweet girl, and they are living happily 
 together at this very day. And their 
 eldest son is called Michael, and it is 
 very certain he knows the story of 
 Michael Bazaroff as well as he knows 
 his own name. 
 
 As for the Princess Theodora, she is
 
 164 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 now a very great Princess indeed. She 
 lives among kings and queens, and there 
 is no splendor or majesty or luxury that 
 is not common as daily bread to her. 
 But she has kept through all temptations 
 her child's heart, its purity and piety, 
 and loving care for others. Many people 
 say that she is not gay looking, but 
 nevertheless she is very happy. Only, 
 the great sorrow of her girlhood has been 
 like the soft pedal to a piano; it has 
 softened and sweetened all the loud, high 
 notes of ambition, and unlimited wealth, 
 and high station. 
 
 For she has never forgotten the priva 
 tions, the fears, and the sorrowful heart 
 ache of her early years ; and to her own 
 happy girls and boys she tells very 
 often the story lived through in that 
 long, bare room at Bazaroff ; the gloom, 
 the loneliness, and the terror that dwelt 
 there with them. These little people 
 know all about Mr. Cecil and Matrina.
 
 Michael and Theodora. 165 
 
 and what the brave boy said to the 
 wicked Prince Sergius when he spoke 
 evil of his father and mother. 
 
 And certainly they always think and 
 speak of these things when they see 
 Michael in his glittering uniform, rid 
 ing at the head of his regiment, and 
 looking like the hero he really was, when 
 he gave Prince Sergius the lie to his 
 face, and expecting, but not fearing, 
 death, defended the honor of his father 
 and mother at all odds. 
 
 Sometimes also in the winter nights, 
 when the great snows were falling and 
 the arctic cold was cruel and hardly to 
 be borne, Theodora' would gather the 
 children around her knee, and in a low 
 voice tell how Prince Sergius galloped 
 away from Bazaroff that fearful day and 
 was never seen again by any mortal. 
 " The snow was falling thick when he 
 went, it came faster and faster, the night 
 fell early, it was a dark? bitter night" ;
 
 1 66 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 and at this point the Princess Theodora 
 would generally cease speaking. Then 
 one of her little children would ask in 
 awed tones, 
 
 " What came of Prince Sergius, dearest 
 mother?" 
 
 And the answer was ever the same, 
 
 "Only God knows, certainly, dear 
 children. But listen! I will tell you 
 what is known. When the snow went 
 away in the spring 
 
 "Yes, mother?" 
 
 "When the snow went away in the 
 spring, some peasants found heside a 
 broken sledge 
 
 " What did the peasants find, dear 
 mother ? " 
 
 " They found part of his clothing, 
 and and 
 
 " What else did they find ? " 
 
 "Alas, my dears, the}' found also a 
 mangled skeleton ! " 
 
 Oh! Oh!"
 
 Michael and Theodora. 167 
 
 " It was all that the wolves had left ! " 
 
 " Oh! Oh! /" with a great sigh from 
 each little heart, and a long silence. Then 
 finally from Theodora, 
 
 " My dear children, it was the death of 
 a bad man. It is most true, that if you 
 are good, everything will turn to your 
 good ; but if you do evil, everything will 
 then turn to your sorrow and destruc 
 tion." 
 
 And one night as they sat talking of 
 these things, the good patriarch of St. 
 Petersburg came into the room, and he 
 sat down and listened to the whole story ; 
 and when it was finished, he took the 
 eldest child of Theodora upon his knee, 
 and he said to him, 
 
 " Michael Kazan, this is a story for the 
 Bazaroffs and the Kazans to be very proud 
 of. From it you may learn that the 
 wicked and cruel man he that plotteth 
 mischief and evil is not unseen by the 
 good God, who is sure to punish him for
 
 1 68 Michael and Theodora. 
 
 it. And now, Michael Kazan, tell me 
 who it was that righted the wrongs of 
 Prince Ivan Bazaroff, and the wrongs of 
 his wife and children ? " 
 
 And Michael Kazan, looking very proud 
 and happy, answered, 
 
 " God righted the wrong ! God and 
 two little children." 
 
 THE END.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-32m-8,'58(5876s4)444
 
 ,,^ S .5. H . E ..GIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 001372352 3 
 
 PS 
 1072