_In the present translation I have tried to preserve, as far as possible, the quaintness and piquancy of the original Russian, but I fear that in thus endeavouring to produce a faithful copy of the author’s work I have often sacrificed elegant and correct English. Only those who know how terse and vigorous a language the Russian is will be able to appreciate the translator’s difficulties, which are greater than those of an author of a new work, so far as the mere writing of it is concerned. Whilst it is often impossible to adhere strictly to the author’s words without producing obscurities, the use of lengthy phrases and even whole sentences to express the full sense of the original, means, on the other hand, the annihilation of the author’s style. As a rule, translators of Russian works, in their endeavour to make their renderings readable, only succeed in producing a tale in common-place English, with a foreign plot, long drawn out, devoid of colour, and wearisome to read,--barely recognisable sometimes by those who are conversant with the original._ _To assist those who are not familiar with Russia and Russian history, I have explained various references in the text by means of footnotes; and to excite a more lively interest in the characters, I have included portraits. The frontispiece is a reproduction of an engraving taken from a celebrated painting which embodies the popular legend concerning the Princess Tarakanova’s last hours.[2] The portraits of Orloff and Ekaterina are reproduced from old and rare engravings. Danilevski’s likeness is from a photograph taken some years ago._ _In conclusion, conscious of many faults and oversights in a translation originally not intended for publication, I have to acknowledge that I am most indebted to Mr. F. Dillon Woon, of Wallington, England, for his kind aid and criticism, and to accord him my best thanks._ _IDA DE MOUCHANOFF._ _Pskov._ [Illustration] PRINCESS TARAKANOVA. PART I. _DIARY OF LIEUTENANT KONSOV._ “There can be no doubt she is an adventuress.”--_Letter of Ekaterina II._ CHAPTER I. _TEMPEST-TOSSED._ MAY, 1775: ATLANTIC OCEAN, Frigate _Northern Eagle_. A storm has been raging for already three days. We have been so tossed about that it has been impossible to write. Our frigate, the _Northern Eagle_, is not far from Gibraltar. We have lost our rudder, and our sails are all torn, and now the current is carrying us south-eastwards. Where shall we land? what will become of us? It is night; the wind has fallen, and the sea is calmer. I am writing in my cabin. All that I have time to write of what I have seen and undergone, I will place in a bottle, and cast it upon the waters; and you who may chance to find it I entreat, by all that is sacred, to send it to its address. Ah! all-powerful God, grant me powers of memory; enlighten my poor soul, so torn with doubt!