He drank, and returned the goblet to Baranoff, first calling upon one in attendance to fill it with gold coins in conformity with ancient usage. The populace looked on in silent wonderment. What mood had come over Paul that he should depute this duty to the Czarovitch? Was any explanation to be given? Yes, there was. Hush! little Sasha is speaking. “People of St. Petersburg, my father Paul——” His voice shook with emotion. He stopped, and turned to a minister in his rear, as if desiring him to act as speaker. Count Pahlen, for he it was, proceeded to make the momentous announcement. “People of St. Petersburg, it is my melancholy duty to state that last night our little father Paul was seized with apoplexy, and died at a quarter to twelve.” He made a pause, and then added, “The Czar is dead”—and, pointing to Alexander—“Long live the Czar!” For a moment the people were dumb with surprise. The news seemed too good to be true. Then a mighty shout rent the air. “Long live little Sasha!” The cavalry spontaneously waved their sabres in an ecstasy of loyalty; among the infantry helmets danced aloft upon the points of bayonets; a remark, however, not applicable to the Paulovski Guards, who, in spite of the addresses of their officers, could not be made to show the least token of enthusiasm. The civilian crowd, however, were wild with delight; it seemed as if their cheering would never cease. There could be no doubt as to the popularity of Alexander with the great mass of the people, and the ministers upon the balcony, who, for reasons best known to themselves, had feared that the news of Paul’s death might provoke a very different feeling, began to be relieved, a relief somewhat discounted when they noticed the demeanour of the Paulovski Guards, many of whom, having grounded their rifles, were leaning upon them with a sullen and moody air. Their action was, of course, unseen by the greater part of the people, who, after the fashion of crowds, began to make comments upon what they had just heard. “The great Catharine was right. She said that Paul would not long outlive her.” “True. He hasn’t reigned five years.” “A terrible blow this—to the Empress Mary.” “A blow! Say rather a piece of good luck! But yesterday, so ’tis said, Paul threatened to put her into a convent for life.” “Lucky, too, for Alexander. To think that he was a prisoner yesterday, threatened with death, and to-day the Czar!” There was no disputing the fact that Paul’s departure from this world had been very opportunely timed for Alexander by that particular angel who has the arrangement of such matters; very opportunely indeed—so opportunely that, perhaps, it may not have been an angel at all, but——