Russia -- History -- Catherine II, 1762-1796 -- Fiction; Russia -- History -- Elizabeth, 1741-1762 -- Fiction
They had made a halt at a small public house near the boundary. The
horses were to be changed there, and there the soldiers of the escort
were to get their last taste of Russian brandy before crossing the
border.
Anna and her husband have remained in the sledge. She holds her son in
her arms, she presses him to her bosom, full of exulting maternal joy:
for he is now saved, this poor little emperor; Anna has now no longer to
fear that her son will be torn from her--he is saved--he belongs to her;
she can rejoice in his childish beauty, in the happy consciousness of
safety.
She has thrown back the curtains of the sledge. She felt no cold. With
joy-beaming eyes she looked forward to that blessed land beyond the
boundary! There, where upon its tall staff the Russian flag floated high
in the air, there freedom and happiness were to begin for her--there
will she find again her youth and her maiden dreams, her cheerfulness
and her pleasure--there is freedom--golden, heavenly freedom!
She is so happy at this moment that she loves all and every one. For the
first time she feels a sort of tenderness for her husband, who patiently
bearing all in silence, had complained and wept only for her. Gently
she reclined her head upon his shoulder, and with a cry of ecstasy the
prince encircled her neck with his arms.
“Oh, my husband,” she whispered, with overflowing eyes, “look there,
over there! There is our future, there will we seek for happiness.
Perhaps we may unitedly find it in the same path, for we have here a
sweet bond to hold our hands together. Look at him, your son. Ulrich,
you are the father of my child! Grant my heart only a little repose, and
perhaps we may yet be happy with each other.”
Prince Ulrich’s eyes were suffused with tears; he experienced a moment
of the purest happiness. He impressed a kiss upon the brow of his wife,
and in a low tone called her by the tenderest names.
The child awoke and smilingly looked up from Anna’s bosom to both of his
parents. Anna lifted up the little Ivan.
“Look there, my son,” said she--“there you will no longer be an emperor,
but you will have the right to be a free and happy man. No crown awaits
you there, but freedom, worth more than all the crowns in the world.”
Little Ivan exultingly stretched forth his tiny arms, as if he would
draw down to his childish heart this future and this freedom so highly
lauded by his mother.
And, like the child, the parents looked smilingly out upon the broad
expanse that stretched away before them.
Look only forward, constantly forward, where the skies are clear, and
dream of happiness! Look forward--no, turn not backward your glance, for
the horizon darkens in your rear; misfortune is closely following upon
your track! You see it not, you only look forward and still you smile.
It draws nearer and nearer, this black cloud of evil. It is the ravens,
the booty-scenting ravens who are following you!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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