Historical fiction; Peter I, Emperor of Russia, 1672-1725 -- Fiction; Russia -- History -- Sofia Alekseevna, 1682-1689 -- Fiction
and found it expedient to lie still. The sensation of smothering was
horrible, the oppression on the chest, the pain at the heart; and every
movement was torture. Reaching at last the limit of endurance, I lost
consciousness, and knew nothing more until I came to myself, on the
floor of a small room, my eyes straining up at the low ceiling, and the
morning light streaming in at a window opposite.
At the first awakening I remembered nothing, and was vaguely astonished
at my strange surroundings. Then, suddenly recollecting what had
occurred, I sat up, finding, at the same time, that I was very sore
and stiff. The cords had been removed, and my clothes were open at
the throat, so that I suspected that there had been some difficulty
in reviving me at all. Remembering the czarevna’s packet, I felt for
it, only to find it gone. Then I looked to see if I had been robbed;
but no,--to my astonishment, my money was untouched, down to the last
livre, only the ring from my finger--my signet--was gone. My sword and
pistols had shared the fate of the packet. It was not difficult to draw
conclusions. The czarevna’s precautions had been futile, and I had been
tracked from the Kremlin, falling, as I was forced to acknowledge to
myself, an easy victim into the hands of the enemy. My reflections were
extremely bitter; not only had I failed to execute my trust, but was
probably a ruined man. An account of this affair reaching Versailles
would scarcely redound to my credit; and if it was as serious as I
had every reason to fear, it would cut short my career. I could never
again expect to enjoy the confidence of Louvois, at that time virtually
prime minister of France, or of my sovereign, for the great Louis
grasped every detail of affairs, and even my ill-fated gallantry was
not likely to escape that eagle eye. As for the Czarevna Sophia, I was
conscious of a miserable desire to escape from future encounter with
that princess! I sat for a long time in the middle of the floor in a
kind of stupor, partly the result of my experience, and partly caused
by my forlorn reflections. But after a while I roused myself, and
finding that the door was securely fastened without, went to the window
to discover the prospect there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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