“In these melancholy circumstances it becomes the duty of all good patriots to unite for the peaceful deposing of Paul, who shall be maintained in honourable captivity till such time as he shall recover his reason; failing its recovery, he shall remain a captive till the day of his demise.” “Speciously put, but the conspirators know that they are signing Paul’s death-warrant.” “How so?” “What sovereign ever lived long after his dethronement?” “The probity of Alexander is a sure guarantee for his father’s safety.” “Circumstances will prove too strong for Alexander. The conspirators will take good care that Paul shall not live long to trouble the new reign. One morning he will be found dead in bed, and people will say, ‘Alas! for the Little Father! He has died of apoplexy. His physicians always said he would.’ Dr. Wylie is already preparing the public mind for the event.—Well, we’ll defeat their plans. In the morning this document shall be put into Paul’s hands. But you spoke of autograph signatures. Of course, the Czarovitch’s name figures there?” “What makes you think that?” “Men would not plot to put Alexander upon the throne unless they had first gained his consent; they would require his signature as a guarantee for their future safety.” “You’re right. Alexander’s name heads the list.” “’Tis his death-warrant; and let him die! We want no reforming Czars. And, as a man’s foes are those of his own household, I warrant that the second signature is that of the Grand Duke Constantine.” “Correct. He follows his brother. Here is his name in Greek characters.” “Grandmother Catharine hoped that he would one day be King of Greece,” said Arcadius. “That day will never come now. Whose is the next signature?” “Count Pahlen’s.” A savage joy mantled the face of Arcadius. “Good! A powerful rival swept from my path. I may yet live to be Dictator of Russia. And the next?” “Is the autograph of that venerable father of the church, Archbishop Plato. Did his conscience trouble him? ’Tis a somewhat shaky signature.” “I warrant the conspirators moved heaven and earth to obtain it. Who henceforth would stand aloof from an enterprise hallowed by the Church? He is an Anglophile; let him perish!” “Next comes Prince Ouvaroff. After him the Czar’s ministers.” “_All_ of them?” said Arcadius, with an emphasis on the first word. “You are the sole exception.” Arcadius smiled bitterly. “Their act in keeping from me all knowledge of the plot is a clear proof that I am to have no place in the new Ministry. They hate me as the author of the Franco-Russian Alliance. Let them talk as they will of Paul’s madness; their real aim in dethroning him is to conciliate England.” “Here’s a name that you love—General Benningsen!” “Bragging ass! Drunken wassailer! A Hanoverian, almost an Englishman! Paul did ill not to follow my counsel. He _would_ recall him from exile. Here’s his gratitude!”