At Livorno, the Count Orloff was met by the commander of our squadron, Admiral Samuel Carlovitch Greig. Afterwards the count and Princess paid him a visit, and then called on the English consul, drove out with him, his wife, and a whole circle of visitors into the country, and then went for a sail in boats with music; everywhere they were followed by a curious mob. In the evening of the second day of their arrival at Livorna, the count and the Princess went to the opera. On their return, I noticed in the vestibule of the splendid marble palace assigned to the count another intriguing Greek also serving in our fleet, Joseph Michaelevitch Ribas, or, as he called himself, De Ribas. He also somewhat resembled Christianok, being as black as a beetle; but being taller and not so nimble, we used to call the pair of them the Beetle and Cockchafer. De Ribas, as I afterwards learnt, had been engaged even sooner than I or Christianok, having been sent to Venice to collect information about the Princess. “Good-bye, priest,” said the count to Ribas, laughing and not noticing me. “Mind, don’t forget the vestments.” “Vestments, … and why priest?” I stood under the marble colonnade bewildered, lost in thought, hardly seeing the lovely blue boundless sea and our squadron. CHAPTER XIII. _THE “MARRIAGE.”_ The 22nd of February was lovely, almost like summer in its warmth, not a cloud in the skies, the sea calm as a mirror, a holiday feeling in the air. The English consul had invited the count and Princess, and all their suite to luncheon. The Princess arrived, splendidly and tastefully dressed, and, as always, gay and lively. Where was her illness? She chatted merrily with the other guests. On the terrace, adorned with flowers, she walked, carelessly laughing and joking. Every one showed her the greatest attention and respect. Count Alexis Gregorevitch was a model _cavalier-servant_ of the Princess, holding her fan and her gloves, and taking from the hands of the servants the cool refreshing drinks, to offer them himself to her. All noticed that his amorous glances followed her everywhere, and that she seemed born to new life. As by magic her languor had disappeared; her _preux chevalier_, the tamed lion, was at her feet. “Ha! our Celadon, what think you of him?” whispered Christianok. “Yes, resting on his laurels of Chesma, the hero does not disdain another conquest!” Admiral Greig, by nature of a very taciturn disposition, took no part in the conversation, but sat a little apart, extremely stern, sad of countenance, and with downcast eyes, seeming to notice nothing. Some one walked up to the window. From there you could see the blue sea and the Russian flotilla. The ladies began talking of pleasant sails on the sea. “Well, count! show us your ships,” said the Princess. “In Civita Vecchia you showed them the mock-fight of Chesma; you gave others pleasure, honour us also.” “All is ready,” answered Orloff, bowing respectfully.