‘Scarcely have they advanced a few steps on the ramparts, when the crowd begins to surround the two monarchs, with their accustomed marks of deference. M. de Richelieu advances hat in hand, and addresses Alexander as “your Majesty.” The young officer, who had served under the Duke of Odessa, recognises him at once. He goes very pale and confused, for he begins clearly to perceive that he has been the victim of a royal mystification. He is, however, soon reassured by the kindly look of Alexander, and he promptly remits his despatches to him. The emperor takes them with a gracious and significant smile, and with the most kindly gesture dismisses the young sailor, after having given him an invitation to dine for that day. One thing is very certain--this bit of royal pastime will push the other a great deal further than twenty years of service, or the most signal action on board his ship. He will have no need to go and seek his recompense in heaven by the aid of a barrel of gunpowder. ‘But while our kings amuse themselves,’ the general went on, ‘the empresses and queens refuse to remain behind. You know that to-day is the birthday of the Empress of Russia? Now, it has been written that all the birthdays and all the holidays of the calendar should be converted into opportunities for pleasure; and pleasure seems to take good care that none shall be overlooked. Yesterday morning the Empress of Austria, the Grandes-Duchesses d’Oldenbourg and Saxe-Weimar, dressed out in the strangest manner, requested an audience, under assumed names, of the Empress Elizabeth. After a little hesitation, there was a mutual recognition, a great deal of laughter, a great many magnificent presents were offered, and, like the surprise, were accepted with the utmost grace.’ ‘The Prince de Ligne, my dear general, in talking of all those sovereigns, who appeared to be so thoroughly intoxicated with pleasure, called them “kings on their holidays.” In truth, seeing them play pranks like children, we might call them “schoolboys on their holidays.”’ The comte was anxious that I should accompany him that evening to a grand ball at M. de Stackelberg’s, the Russian Ambassador, in honour of his sovereign’s birthday. I promised to do so, as it was said that this was to be the last Russian fête; for according to rumour the whole of the business of the Congress would be finished before the carnival. Several sovereigns were already thinking of leaving Vienna, and Lord Castlereagh was called to London by the opening of the English Parliament.