"And what if it were, nevertheless, true," said the prince,
pressingly--"if we are really threatened with a great danger? A word
from you can turn it away. Let us, therefore, be careful! Remember your
son, Anna--his life is also threatened! Protect him, mother of the
emperor! Allow me, the generalissimo of your forces, to take measures
of precaution! Let me establish patrols, and cause a regiment, for whose
fidelity I can be answerable, to guard the entrances of the palace!"
Anna smilingly shook her head. "No," said she, "nothing of all that
shall be done! Such precautions manifest suspicion, and would wound
the feelings of this good Elizabeth. She is innocent, believe me. I
yesterday sharply observed her, and she came out from the trial pure. It
would be ignoble to distrust her now. Moreover, she has my princely word
that I will always listen only to herself, and believe no one but her.
In the morning I will go to her and show her this letter, that she may
have an opportunity to justify herself."
"You therefore consider her wholly innocent?" asked the prince, with a
sigh.
"Yes, perfectly innocent. Her firm demeanor, her asseverations, her
tears, have convinced me that it was unjust in us to believe the hateful
rumors that had spread concerning her. Let us therefore retire in peace
and quiet. No danger threatens us from Elizabeth!"
There was something convincing and tranquillizing in Anna's immovable
conviction; the prince felt his inability to oppose her, and was ashamed
of his feminine fears in the face of her masculine intrepidity.
With a sigh he took his leave and returned to his own room. At the door
he turned once again.
"Anna," said he, with solemnity, "you have decided upon our destiny,
and God grant that it may eventuate happily! But should it be otherwise,
should the monstrous and terrible break in upon you, then, at least,
remember this hour, in which I warned you, and confess that I am free
from all blame!"
Without awaiting an answer, with a drooping head and deep sigh, the
prince left the room.
Anna looked after him with a compassionate smile.
"Poor prince!" she murmured low, "he is always so timid and trembling;
that indicates unhappiness! He loves me, and I cannot force my heart
to return the feeling. Poor prince, it must be very sad to love and be
unloved!"
With a sigh she closed the door through which her husband had passed.
"I will now sleep," said she. "Yes, sleep! Possibly Heaven may send me a
pleasant dream, and I may see my Lynar! But no, I must first go to Ivan,
to ascertain whether his slumber is tranquil."
With hasty steps she repaired to the adjacent chamber, which was that of
the young emperor.