On the day of the Czar Feodor’s funeral, I was early at the palace, and found it the scene of great confusion. The anterooms were crowded with the dignitaries of the imperial household and with the boyars. The funeral _cortége_ was to proceed to the Cathedral of the Ascension for the obsequies; and I saw, at once, that there was some unusual excitement, especially among the Miloslavskys and their faction. As I crossed the anterooms beyond the banqueting hall, I passed Ramodanofsky, who was in a window recess in deep converse with Viatscheslav Naryshkin and the Streltsi colonel whom I had seen at his house. For the first time, I encountered a keen glance from the old boyar; it was evident to me that I had suddenly become an object of interest to him, and yet I was at loss to explain the reason, being confident that my visit to his house was unknown to him. I passed on, and at the opposite door, I came upon Ivan Miloslavsky, a cousin of the Czarevitch Ivan’s mother, the Princess Marie Illinitchna Miloslavsky, the first wife of Alexis the Debonair. Ivan Michaelovitch Miloslavsky was the most able of that family, except his second cousin, the Czarevna Sophia Alexeievna. I had now a desire to cultivate the good graces of this faction, for I felt that the tide might turn at any hour in favor of the elder branch of the imperial family. So it was that my salutation was cordial, and I was well pleased at Miloslavsky’s ready response; he turned and walked with me, and it was thus that I passed again before Ramodanofsky and his friends, and observed that the three worthies ceased talking, to watch us as we walked the length of the room, Miloslavsky leaning on my arm, and talking confidentially. After we were out of earshot, I ventured to make an inquiry. “Can your excellency tell me anything of the boyar in the window yonder?” I asked. “It is Vladimir Sergheievitch Ramodanofsky,” replied Miloslavsky, with a note of scorn in his voice; “an old villain, and an adherent of the Naryshkins.” “I have heard unfavorable reports of him,” I said, feeling my way with caution. “Nothing you have heard could be worse than the truth, I fancy,” replied Ivan, indifferently. “Some day he will be called to his account; meanwhile, he is enjoying his little hour of prosperity.” “And who is the officer with him?” I inquired, pushing my advantage. Miloslavsky glanced back and shrugged his shoulders. “Another rascal, Colonel Pzykof, and he is likely to be called to an early reckoning,” he added, a peculiar smile curving his full lips,--a smile which suggested to me at once the triumph of some secret scheme. “The funeral procession is forming now,” he continued, quickening his step, “and they will be disturbed by an unusual occurrence.” “I saw that there was some interest awake,” I said. “What is the new development?” Miloslavsky smiled again. “The Czarevna Sophia goes in the procession,” he said quietly.