Adventure stories; British -- Foreign countries -- Fiction; Conspiracies -- Fiction; Europe, Eastern -- Fiction; Princesses -- Fiction
"Eh? well, yes, it was rather awkward, for it was the right hand, you
see, and never having accustomed myself to employ the left I was
rendered completely useless for the rest of the campaign. However, I
have repaired the deficiency, and here is a hand as good as the lost
one," continued Zabern, holding up his left hand. "So ended my first
experience with the Russians."
"You fought them again?" inquired Paul.
"At many times and in many places. I have aided Georgians in the
Caucasus, and Turks on the Danube. And when secret tidings came to me
that Poland was preparing to vindicate its freedom against the tyranny
of the viceroy Constantine, brother of the present Czar, I hastened to
take part in the enterprise. Her Highness's father, Prince Thaddeus,
would not permit Czernova to be drawn into the movement; selfishly, as
we then thought; wisely, as we now perceive.
"The rising began at Warsaw in a conspiracy to seize the person of the
Grand Duke Constantine. I was one of the eighteen appointed for the
purpose. At nightfall we set off for the palace, slew the guards, and
penetrated to the vice-regal bedchamber. But we were just a few
seconds too late. Roused from sleep by the clash of arms, and the
shouting, Constantine had sprung from the bed, thrown a cloak over
himself, and fled by a secret staircase communicating with the palace
gardens."
"The insurrection failed?"
"For a year we offered a gallant resistance to all the might of
Russia. But what can valor effect against numbers? We gained
victories, and those great ones; but if we slew ten thousand of the
enemy on one day, there was a second ten thousand to replace them on
the morrow. We had no such reserves to fall back upon. And then, too,
the damned Russians brought the cholera with them, an ally that proved
far more fatal than their arms; though, the saints be praised! it
carried off the tyrant Constantine. On the taking of Warsaw I became
one of a band of prisoners condemned to march in chains four thousand
miles over the winter snow to Siberia."
"And you escaped?"
"After five years, and have found asylum in Czernova. And here I am
to-day, fifty-three years of age, and good for a deal more mischief
yet," continued Zabern with a grim twinkle in his eye. "To see me
holding the post of minister is gall and wormwood to the Russians;
they have required my extradition, but the princess has resolutely
refused to grant it."
Such in brief was the history of Zabern, and though his attempts to
win freedom for his country were deserving of sympathy, Paul could not
avoid a feeling of regret that Barbara should have admitted to her
ministry such a firebrand as this patriot, whose undoubted aim was to
utilize the resources of Czernova against Russia, should a favorable
opportunity occur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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