The Circassian Chief: A Romance of Russia. Kingston William Henry Giles
– are we safe from eaves-droppers?”
“I believe so,” answered Ivan, wondering to what grave matter such cautious preliminaries would lead.
“Can I trust to the most inviolable secrecy in what I am about to say?” inquired the stranger guest; “but why do I ask, for I am satisfied that I may.”
“Undoubtedly you may, Sir,” proudly replied Ivan, “in anything not opposed to my honour.”
“Far from it,” hastily rejoined the other. “Think not for a moment that I would propose aught that would reflect disgrace on your name. I pledge you my own word of honour; that all I require, in return for my disclosure, is inviolable secrecy on your part; any step farther I leave to your own judgment.”
“Speak on,” answered Ivan, “whatever you may reveal, shall never pass my lips.”
“My confidence is fully confirmed,” replied the guest, “or I should not have visited you. You were last evening in the ‘Allée des Peuples’ with your friend, Stanisloff; you were there accosted by a Gipsy girl, whom you had previously known; she beckoned to you, and you followed her. You recollect the words she uttered – ‘The day of the regeneration of Russia is at hand.’ Nay, start not, no one overheard you: she was but performing a commission for others of power and of influence – a task she gladly undertook. You have been marked by them as one fit to assist in the noble cause in which they are engaged. Azila, the Gipsy girl, is one of the chief means of communication with our friends in all parts of the country; she has guaranteed your honour and fidelity.”
“What aid can I afford to the cause of freedom?” inquired Ivan, “when I am myself utterly powerless; opposed as you must know the Baron Galetzoff to be to any measures calculated to give liberty to the people.”
“We well know that the son has far different opinions to those entertained by his father; we are also well aware that the Baron is a staunch upholder of despotism; but, need I ask – is it incumbent on the son to adhere to the despotic principles of his parent? No! – I feel confident that you at least, will not.”
The stranger, as he spoke, had intently watched Ivan’s countenance, and appearing to gather confidence, continued —
“That you will ultimately join us, I anticipate with satisfaction; meanwhile, however, come and hear our plans. These I dare not utter within these walls, for even they may have ears and a voice to carry the tale; but, would you know more, I will conduct you where all will be disclosed. Will you accompany me?”
“I must deeply consider the matter, ere I answer you; but tell me,” said Ivan, “where I can meet you, should I consent.”
“On the banks of the Moskowa, beneath the walls of the Kremlin, is a secluded walk, which is entered from the public gardens – you doubtless know it; there we may escape observation; our converse secure from the lurking spy. At dusk this evening – may I reckon upon your coming?”
A few minutes succeeded, during which Ivan appeared wrapped in thought. At length, he answered firmly —
“I will meet you at the spot and hour you name, and, though I do not engage to enter into your views, I swear that your confidence in me shall not be abused.”
His visitor smiled, and replied: “With you, fear has doubtless little influence; but there are some who require that motive for secrecy; and imagine not that a thought of treachery can be harboured, without drawing down instant retribution. At dusk we meet again, adieu!”
Ivan ushered the stranger to the door, the latter, passing out into the street, assumed the easy and careless air of the numerous loungers thronging around him.
How little can the passenger through the crowded streets tell of the varied thoughts, feelings, and passions, which fill the breasts of those who encounter him! The grief and agony; despair and hatred; the avarice, love, or beneficence, the joy, or careless indifference of the wayfarers; the man whose dearest tie has been torn from him; the ruined gamester; the assassin, advancing to his work of blood, the miser to his hoards; the father to his offspring; the lover to his mistress; the Samaritan, hastening to relieve the distressed; the long-absent traveller, to his home; the fop, the fool, or the wise man; every character is passed in succession each instant, unheeded and unknown.
Volume One – Chapter Nine
Ivan, once having resolved to follow the guidance of his new friend, looked forward with eagerness to the approach of evening; and, ere the time had arrived, throwing his cloak about him, he sauntered forth in the direction of the Kremlin.
This venerable pile, regarded by the inhabitants of Moscow as the heart – the sacred place – the tabernacle, as it were, of their city, was anciently a fortress of the rude and fierce Tartars; and indeed, at that period, the whole of the city was contained within its walls. It stands on a commanding site by the banks of the Moskwa, whose waters wash its base, surrounded by high and ancient walls of a triangular form, nearly two miles in extent. Its area encloses numerous cathedrals, gorgeous palaces, churches and monasteries; surmounted by towers, belfries, and steeples; displaying every variety of architecture, including the Tartar, Hindoo, Chinese, and Gothic. Above all this vast pile rises the lofty tower of Ivan Veliki, its golden ball now reflecting the rays of the setting sun with dazzling brilliancy; the whole forming a strange mixture of barbaric splendour, blended with the stately elegance of modern times.
There are no regular streets within the Kremlin, the buildings being raised around several open places or squares, to which the inhabitants resort for walking or driving.
The walls, which are surmounted by battlements and watch-towers, have five gates, the principal of which is the “Saviour’s” or “Holy Gate.” Through this awe-commanding portal no male, not even the Czar and Autocrat of all the Russias, may pass, save with uncovered head and bended body.
Through this gate, Ivan now proceeded bareheaded, and entered a noble esplanade, commanding one of the most interesting views of Moscow, having in front the range of the palaces of the Czars, with their varied and fanciful style of architecture. He paced its extent for some time, meditating on the important affairs which he was likely to be suddenly, and as he could not but admit to himself, rashly engaged in.
As the shades of evening began to close around him, he left the Kremlin by one of the less remarkable gates, and sought the appointed place of rendezvous.
After traversing the walk several times, he began to suspect that he must have mistaken the time and place, as no one appeared; or that his new friend had been prevented from keeping the appointment by some unforeseen circumstance. He accordingly determined to return to the hotel, when suddenly, as if springing from the earth, a dark figure stood before him, so closely muffled as to baffle recognition. Ivan recoiled a few paces, so unexpectedly did the figure come upon him; and, as his mind recurred to Azila’s warnings respecting the secret revenge of the Count Erintoff, the idea of treachery presented itself, and his hand clutched the pistols concealed within his breast. Thus prepared, he confronted the stranger, friend or foe as he might prove to be.
“Why come you here?” demanded the figure, in a voice unknown to Ivan’s ear.
“In search of him who appointed a meeting with me here,” answered the young man. “Know you aught of him?”
“Behold him before you,” said the visitor of the morning, stepping forward, and speaking in a tone which the other immediately knew.
“It is well,” replied Ivan. “Your feigned voice at first deceived me. But how came you so suddenly upon me?”
“All, you were taken unawares,” said the other. “You then did not observe my skiff, as I guided it noiselessly under the bank, and landed when you had turned the other way while I closely watched you. It behoves all of us, in these times, who seek success in bold enterprises, to be wary in our movements. But we have no time to lose; and now to the matter on which we have met.”
“Speak on,” said Ivan. “I am prepared to hear, and shall not forget my promise.”
“Listen then,” said the other. “Ivan Galetzoff, you are far better known than you are aware