The Green Book; Or, Freedom Under the Snow: A NovelJókai, Mór
History
The Green Book; Or, Freedom Under the Snow: A Novel
Jókai, Mór
Russia -- History -- December Uprising, 1825 -- Fiction
The death's-head was satisfied to leave matters to him--_Typis
admittitur!_--and went back to the reception-rooms to administer a
parting shot to the Frenchman. After the encouraging words of the
President of Police his horns had grown so fast that he felt as if they
would reach to the artist perched aloft.
"I forbid you to paint a figure of Death before his Majesty's very feet.
It will give the whole fresco an ominous meaning."
But the artist continued undisturbed to paint in his figure of Death;
and the face was the counterpart of that of the Censor.
CHAPTER XV
THE CZAR SMILES
Only as Pushkin reached home did he begin to meditate over what he had
done. He did not for a moment hesitate as to the consequences of his
rash act. A man only just permitted to return from exile in Bessarabia,
whither his hot head had banished him, and even then but received in
semi-favor at court, could not expect other from his recent scene with
the sacred person of the Censor than to be deported to some fortress on
the Volga, or to guard the Kirghis Pustas, where he would be forever
lost to sight and mind. He therefore set to work at once addressing
P.P.C. cards to his friends; on that to Zeneida he added, "pour jamais."
When once he received marching orders, there would be no time for such
things. The report of the assault had quickly made the round of the
town; such news is sure to spread quickly. Among his many friends there
was but one who found his way to him on hearing of it; that one was
Jakuskin.
"Well, friend, now you, too, will make acquaintance with the Caucasus.
You would do well to have your portrait taken at once, that after ten
years, when you come back, like me, you may at least know what you once
were like."
"I am prepared for anything," answered Pushkin, sealing the letter in
which he was returning the publisher Severin the two hundred rubles he
had received for his poem, not having obtained the Censor's permission
to publish. "But there is one thing I cannot understand. I have just
received from the Lord Chamberlain an invitation to the state concert
to-night. Now, what the devil does that mean?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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