captain of the guards appeared. "That would avail nothing," said she; "I must see him, and deliver this paper into his own hands.” -"Why not into mine ?" returned the questioner, rudely snatching the paper, and thrusting himself behind the gates: but not so rapidly as to escape a blow levelled at his head by Usbeck. Кеер that blow in mind, my good friend," said the thief, laughing—“ I shall not forget my part of the debt." And slily twitching the long lock which hung behind Usbeck's ear in the Black Cossack's fashion, he disappeared. Feodorowna stood resolutely at the gateway of the palace, still expecting to see the Emperor, and determining to communicate all that had happened to herself, her first husband, and her father. Presently the artisan returned again, and laying his hand familiarly on her arm, whispered-" The Emperor is in the guard house, follow me!"-There was an expression, an ardent and full authority in his eye, which instantly announced his rank. She was going to kneel, but he prevented her. "Be of good cheer, Feodorowna!-your husband is greater and less than he appears. Return home, and drink the Emperor of Russia's health to-night, as he commanded." Usbeck stood listening anxiously near his mistress; and when she turned to him with a smiling countenance, beckoned her to follow him. But it was too late a guard of twelve men had drawn up behind, and now surrounded them. They were forcibly separated, and each conveyed to prison, where sentinels, regularly changed, attended till about the eleventh hour of the next day, when two persons in the habit of Russian senators entered, and conducted Feodorowna to another room in the fortress. This room was filled with senators; and a bishop, whose face she recognized, stood near a couch on which a young man sat with silver fetters on his hands. His dress was slovenly and squalid, but his person tall and wellmade; his complexion healthfully brown, and his eyes and hair of a brilliant black. Another man, whose form and countenance were entirely muffled, stood behind the groupe, but sufficiently near to direct and observe them. Count Tolstoi, the chief senator, obeyed a glance from his eye; and addressing himself to the manacled prisoner, said, in a low and respectful voice, "Does your highness know this woman?"-He answered in German, and the muffled man gave a signal to the bishop, who approached the couch, and joining the hands of Feodorowna to the prisoner, declared their marriage lawful from that hour, but from that only. Though the face of her husband had been concealed from her during their mysterious intercourse, Feodorowna knew the strong stern voice, the dark hair and eyes, and the perfect symmetry of this unknown prisoner; and her heart smote itself when the letter she had written to the Emperor was read aloud to him. He made no reply, and the witnesses of this strange ceremony laid before him another paper, stating, that finding himself unqualified for government, he disclaimed all right of succession to the crown, acknowledging his brother Peter its lawful heir. He signed it with the same unbending countenance: and the standers by having each repeated an oath of allegiance to the chosen successor, departed one by one, solemnly bowing their heads to the bishop and the muffled man who stood at his right hand. They, with Feodorowna, were then left alone in the room, until a signal bell had sounded twice. A man whom she knew to be Field-Marshal Wreyde, entered as it tolled the last time, bearing a silver cup and cover. His countenance was frightfully pale, and he staggered like one convulsed or intoxicated. The prisoner fixed his eyes sternly on Feodorowna, and bowing his head to the muffled stranger, took it with an unshaking hand, and emptied it to the last drop. While he held it to his lips, the Bishop opened a long official paper, but the prisoner interrupted him: "I have already heard my sentence of death, and know this is its execution." Even as he spoke, the change in his complexion began, and Feodorowna, uttering dismal screams, was forced from his presence. Five days after, she was carried in a covered litter to the church of the Holy Trinity, where a coffin lay in state under a pall of rich gold tissue. Her conductor withdrew into the darkness of the outer aisle, leaving her to contemplate the terrible conclusion of her father's ambitious dreams, and the last scene of human greatness. But she was yet uncertain how far the guilt of the detected faction had extended, and whether he who lay under the splendid pall, and had once called himself her husband, was the treacherous Governor of Siberia, Prince Gagarin, or a still more illustrious criminal. There was no name upon the velvet covering of the coffin, no banner, no armorial bearing; and the attendant, seeing the silent and stony stupor of the miserable widow, conducted her compassionately back to the covered litter. It conveyed her to a convent, where, a few hours after her arrival, a white veil was presented to her, with this mandate, bearing the imperial signet of Peter the Great. "The widow of Alexis, Czarowitz of Russia, could enter no asylum less than the most sacred and distinguished convent of the empire. It is not her crime that he instigated foreign sovereigns and Russian renegades to assassinate his father, depose his motherin-law, and expel his kindred. Neither is it her crime that her father was the dupe of a faction, whose only purpose was to elevate a man fond of the vices of the lowest herd, and therefore fit to be their leader. Nor can a woman, bold enough to risk the life of her husband, blame a father, whose justice required him to sacrifice his son. He spared him the shame of a public execution, and gave him a title to the tears of a lawful widow." Thus perished Alexis, heir-apparent of the widest empire, and the most celebrated sovereign then existing in Europe. The decree that consigned him to death, was passed in the senate house of Moscow by all the chief nobility and clergy, the high officers of the army and navy, the governors of provinces, and others of inferior degree, unanimously; but referring the mode to his sovereign and father, whose extraordinary character, combining the sternness of a Junius Brutus with the romance of a Haroun Alraschid, enabled him to fulfil the terrible office of his son's judge. But even Peter the Great had not hardihood enough to be a public executioner; and his unhappy son, though his sentence might have been justified by the baseness of his habits and associates, was never openly abandoned by his father. His death was ascribed to apoplexy, caused by shame and fear, at the reading of his sentence; and the Czar with his Czarina Catherine attended the funeral. Feodorowna died in the convent of Susdale, of which the former Czarina, mother of the Czarowitz, was abbess when he perished; and Usbeck, her faithful servant, easily escaped from the prison of the Emperor, who did not forget his blow. Once on his way from Moscow to Novogorod, attended only by four servants, Peter was stopped by a party of Rashbonicks, and leaping from his sledge, with a pistol cocked, demanded to know what they desired. One of the troop replied, he was their lord and master, and ought to supply the wants of his destitute subjects. The Emperor knew Usbeck's voice, and giving him an order for a thousand rubles on the Governor of Novogorod, bade him go, and remember how Peter of Russia paid his debts, either of honour or of justice. NATURE'S FAREWELL. "The beautiful is vanish'd, and returns not." COLERIDGE'S WALLENSTEIN. A YOUTH rode forth from his childhood's home, "Knew'st thou with what thou art parting here, Thy heart's free laughter, thy sunny hours, Thou hast left in our shades with the Spring's wild flowers. "Under the arch, by our mingling made, On rode the youth-and the boughs among, "Thou may'st come to the summer wood again, On rode the youth-and the founts and streams "Listen but once to the sound of our mirth; "Thou wilt visit the scenes of thy childhood's glee, "Thou wilt bear in our gladsome laugh no part; "Farewell!-when thou comest again to thine own Thou wilt miss from our music its loveliest tone; Mournfully true is the tale we tell Yet on, fiery dream!-Farewell, farewell!" And a something of gloom on his spirit weigh'd, F. HEMANS. "ART thou come with the heart of thy childhood back, The free, the pure, the kind ?" -So murmur'd the trees in my homeward track, As they played to the mountain wind. "Hast thou been true to thine early love ?" Whisper'd my native streams, "Doth the spirit, rear'd amidst hill and grove, Still revere its first high dreams ?" "Hast thon borne in thy bosom the holy prayer Of the child in his parent halls ?" Thus breathed a voice on the thrilling air From the old ancestral walls ; "Hast thou kept thy faith with the faithful dead Whose place of rest is nigh? With the father's blessing o'er thee shed? With the mother's trusting eye?" "And the holy prayer from my thoughts hath pass'd, The prayer at my mother's knee Darken'd and troubled, I come at last, 1 hou home of my boyish glee! "But I bear from my childhood a gift of tears To soften and atone; And, O ye scenes of those blessed years! They shall make me again your own!" F. HEMANS,* Songs of the Affections." |