“No,” exclaimed the princess, with generous emotion, “the regent has chosen precisely the best means for disarming us! She has manifested a noble confidence in me, she has discredited the whisperings of her minister and counsellors, and instead of destroying me, as she should have done, she has warned me with the kindness and affection of a sister. I shall never forget that, Lestocq; I shall ever be grateful for that! Henceforth the Regent or Empress Anna Leopoldowna shall have no truer or more obedient subject than I, the Princess Elizabeth!” “By this you would not say, princess--” “By this I mean to say,” interposed Elizabeth, “that this conspiracy is brought to a bloodless conclusion, and that, from this hour, there is but one woman in this great Russian realm who has any claim to the title of empress, and that woman is the Regent Anna Leopoldowna!” “You will therefore renounce your sacred and well-grounded claims to the imperial throne?” asked Lestocq, continuing his scribbling. “Yes, that will I,” responded Elizabeth. “I will no longer be plagued with your plans and machinations--I will have repose. In the interior of my palace I will be empress; there will I establish a realm, a realm of peace and enjoyable happiness; there will I erect the temple of love, and consecrate myself as its priestess! No, speak no more of revolutions and conspiracies. I am not made to sit upon a throne as the feared and thundering goddess of cowardly slaves, causing millions to tremble at every word and glance! I will not be empress, not the bugbear of a quaking, kneeling people, I will be a woman, who has nothing to do with the business and drudgery of men; I will not be plagued with labor and care, but will enjoy and rejoice in my existence!” “For that you will be allowed no time!” said Lestocq, with solemnity. “When you give up your plans and renounce your rights, then, princess, it will be all over with the days of enjoyment and happiness. It will then no longer be permitted you to convert your palace into a temple of pleasure, and thenceforth you will be known only as the priestess of misfortune and misery!” “You have again your fever-dreams,” said Elizabeth, smiling. “Come, I will awaken you! I have told you my story; it is now for you to give me a recipe for my inflamed eyes.” “Here it is,” earnestly answered Lestocq, handing to the princess the paper upon which he had been scribbling. Elizabeth took it and at first regarded it with smiling curiosity; but her features gradually assumed a more serious and even terrified expression, and the roses faded from her cheeks. “You call this a recipe for eyes reddened with weeping,” said she, with a shudder, “and yet it presents two pictures which make my hair bristle with terror, and might cause one to weep himself blind!”