So the investigation began, and after three days and nights of incessant labor, it was ascertained that some _eighty years before_, Catherine II., looking out one spring morning from the windows of this palace of Peterhof, observed in the centre of this lawn, the first May-flower of the season, lifting its delicate head above the lately frozen soil. She ordered a soldier to stand there to prevent its being plucked. The order was inscribed upon the books; and thus for eighty years, in summer and in winter, in sunshine and in storm, a sentinel had stood upon that spot, no one apparently, until the time of Bismarck, caring to question the reason of his so doing! Such was, and is, the absolutism of the government of the Czars! Catherine had long resolved that one of her granddaughters should be queen of Sweden. Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, was already affianced to a princess of Mecklenburg; but with Catherine to will was to do, so she contrived to have this marriage broken off, and brought the young king to St. Petersburg, where she thought her own consummate address and the charms of the intended bride would accomplish the rest. For once, however, Catherine, the crafty, deceived herself. Proposals of marriage were speedily made, the treaty drawn up, the day of betrothment fixed, and a splendid fête prepared. The appointed time arrived. The empress, surrounded by her court, sat in the audience chamber of the Winter Palace. Alexandrina, adorned in bridal pomp, stood at the side of her imperial grandmother; all was in readiness, but the royal bridegroom came not. They waited—there was a depressing silence—the bride turned pale, the empress turned red, the courtiers looked at one another ominously. A very different scene, however, was being enacted in the apartments of the king of Sweden. The Chancellor Markoff had brought the articles of marriage to him for his signature. As a mere matter of form, he read them over rapidly; but the young king, who listened, became aware that certain articles were inserted which had not been previously agreed upon. It was a law of Sweden that the queen of the country must profess the faith of the nation, and exchange the Greek for the Lutheran church; but the haughty and imperious Catherine had decided that _her_ imperial granddaughter should be made an exception to this law, and had introduced into the marriage treaty a clause to that effect. The king refused to sign the contract. The chancellor was thunderstruck. A mere boy to resist the will of the empress; it was preposterous! He flattered, he entreated, he implored; but all in vain. Gustavus was immovable; and enraged at the attempt to deceive him, he flung the papers away. “No,” he cried furiously, “I will not have it! I will not sign!” and he shut himself up in his own apartment. Here was an unexpected _contretemps_. Who would dare to relate this pleasing news to the empress-queen, surrounded by her expectant court?