"You would not have many to confess," said Elizabeth, "for your sins are
few. You are the pride of my court, and, as I am told, a true pattern
of all knightly virtues. Remain so, and who knows, my fair young count,
what the future may bring you? Love my Natalie now only as an angel of
innocence; let her grow up as such, and then--"
"And then?" asked the count, as the empress stopped.
"Then we shall see!" smilingly responded Elizabeth. "But now hasten
forward to announce us."
"Your majesty forgets that, to enable one to penetrate into this
enchanted castle, your written command is required!"
"Ah, that is true!" said Elizabeth, stepping to her writing-table. This
time she was not too indolent to write; no representations nor prayers
were needed. It concerned the seeing of her daughter--how, then, could
she have thought writing painful or troublesome?
With the same pen with which, a short time before, she had so
unwillingly signed the congratulatory letter, she now wrote upon a sheet
of paper, provided with her seal these words: "The Count Rasczinsky may be admitted.
"ELIZABETH."
She handed the paper to the count, who pressed it to his lips.
"You can retain this paper for all time," said the empress, as she
dismissed him. "I know that I can wholly confide in you. You will never
sell or betray my Natalie?"
"Never!" protested the count, taking his leave.
Hastily mounting his horse, he galloped through the streets, and when,
having left the city behind him, he found himself in the open country
where no one could observe him, he drew the paper Elizabeth had given
him from his bosom, and waving it high in the air, shouted: "Good fortune, good fortune! This paper is my talisman and my future!
With this paper I will give Russia an empress, and make myself her
emperor!"