One day Ibrahim was in the lobby of the Duke of Orleans' residence. The Duke, passing by him, stopped, and handing him a letter, told him to read it at his leisure. It was a letter from Peter the First. The Emperor, guessing the true cause of his absence, wrote to the Duke that he had no intention of compelling Ibrahim, that he left it to his own free will to return to Russia or not, but that in any case he would never abandon his former foster-child. This letter touched Ibrahim to the bottom of his heart. From that moment his resolution was taken. The next day he informed the Regent of his intention to set out immediately for Russia.
"Reflect upon what you are going to do," said the Duke to him: "Russia is not your native country. I do not think that you will ever again see your torrid home, but your long residence in France has made you equally a stranger to the climate and the ways of life of semi-civilized Russia. You were not born a subject of Peter. Listen to my advice: take advantage of his magnanimous permission, remain in France, for which you have already shed your blood, and rest assured that here your services and talents will not remain unrewarded."
Ibrahim thanked the Duke sincerely, but remained firm in his resolution.
"I feel very sorry," said the Regent: "but perhaps you are right."
He promised to let him retire from the French service, and wrote a full account of the matter to the Czar.
Ibrahim was soon ready for the journey. On the eve of his departure he spent the evening as usual at the house of the Countess L——. She knew nothing. Ibrahim had not the courage to inform her of his intention. The Countess was calm and cheerful. She several times called him to her and joked about his thoughtfulness. After supper the guests departed. The Countess, her husband, and Ibrahim were left alone in the parlour. The unhappy man would have given everything in the world to have been left alone with her; but Count L—— seemed to have seated himself so comfortably beside the fire, that it appeared useless to hope that he would leave the room. All three remained silent.
"Bonne nuit!" said the Countess at last.
A pang5 passed through Ibrahim's heart, and he suddenly felt all the horrors of parting. He stood motionless.
"Bonne nuit, messieurs!" repeated the Countess.
Still he remained motionless.... At last his eyes became dim, his head swam round, and he could scarcely walk out of the room. On reaching home, he wrote, almost unconsciously, the following letter:
"I am going away, dear Leonora; I am leaving you for ever. I am writing to you, because I have not the strength to inform you otherwise.
"My happiness could not continue: I have enjoyed it against fate and nature. You must have ceased to love me; the enchantment6 must have vanished. This thought has always pursued me, even in those moments when I have seemed to forget everything, when at your feet I have been intoxicated7 by your passionate8 self-denial, by your unbounded tenderness.... The thoughtless world unmercifully runs down that which it permits in theory; its cold irony9 sooner or later would have vanquished10 you, would have humbled11 your ardent12 soul, and at last you would have become ashamed of your passion.... What would then have become of me? No, it were better that I should die, better that I should leave you before that terrible moment.
"Your tranquillity is dearer to me than everything: you could not enjoy it while the eyes of the world were fixed13 upon you. Think of all that you have suffered, all your wounded self-love, all the tortures of fear; remember the terrible birth of our son. Think: ought I to expose you any longer to such agitations14 and dangers? Why should I endeavour to unite the fate of such a tender, beautiful creature to the miserable15 fate of a negro, of a pitiable being, scarce worthy16 of the name of man?
"Farewell, Leonora; farewell, my dear and only friend. I am leaving you, I am leaving the first and last joy of my life. I have neither fatherland nor kindred; I am going to Russia, where my utter loneliness will be a consolation17 to me. Serious business, to which from this time forth18 I devote myself, if it will not stifle19, will at least divert painful recollections of the days of rapture20 and bliss21.... Farewell, Leonora! I tear myself away from this letter, as if from your embrace. Farewell, be happy, and think sometimes of the poor negro, of your faithful Ibrahim."
That same night he set out for Russia.
The journey did not seem to him as terrible as he had expected. His imagination triumphed over the reality. The further he got from Paris, the more vivid and nearer rose up before him the objects he was leaving for ever.
Before he was aware of it he had crossed the Russian frontier. Autumn had already set in, but the postilions, in spite of the bad state of the roads, drove him with the speed of the wind, and on the seventeenth day of his journey he arrived at Krasnoe Selo, through which at that time the high road passed.
It was still a distance of twenty-eight versts to Petersburg. While the horses were being changed, Ibrahim entered the post-house. In a corner, a tall man, in a green caftan and with a clay pipe in his mouth, was leaning with his elbows upon the table reading the "Hamburg Gazette," Hearing somebody enter, he raised his head.
"Ah, Ibrahim!" he exclaimed, rising from the bench. "How do you do, godson?"
Ibrahim recognized Peter, and in his delight was about to rush towards him, but he respectfully paused. The Emperor approached, embraced him and kissed him upon the forehead.
"I was informed of your coming," said Peter, "and set off to meet you. I have been waiting for you here since yesterday."
"Let your carriage follow on behind us," continued the Emperor, "and you take your place by my side and ride along with me."
The Czar's carriage was driven up; he took his seat with Ibrahim, and they set off at a gallop23. In about an hour and a half they reached Petersburg. Ibrahim gazed with curiosity at the new-born city which had sprung up at the beck of his master. Bare banks, canals without quays24, wooden bridges everywhere testified to the recent triumph of the human will over the hostile elements. The houses seemed to have been built in a hurry. In the whole town there was nothing magnificent but the Neva, not yet ornamented25 with its granite26 frame, but already covered with warships27 and merchant vessels28. The imperial carriage stopped at the palace, i.e., at the Tsaritsin Garden. On the steps Peter was met by a woman of about thirty-five years of age, handsome, and dressed in the latest Parisian fashion. Peter kissed her and, taking Ibrahim by the hand, said:
Catherine fixed on him her dark piercing eyes, and stretched out her hand to him in a friendly manner. Two young beauties, tall, slender, and fresh as roses, stood behind her and respectfully approached Peter.
"Liza," said he to one of them, "do you remember the little negro who stole my apples for you at Oranienbaum? Here he is; I introduce him to you."
The Grand Duchess laughed and blushed. They went into the dining-room. In expectation of the Emperor the table had been laid. Peter sat down to dinner with all his family, and invited Ibrahim to sit down with them. During the course of the dinner the Emperor conversed30 with him on various subjects, questioned him about the Spanish war, the internal affairs of France and the Regent, whom he liked, although he blamed him for many things. Ibrahim possessed31 an exact and observant mind. Peter was very pleased with his replies. He recalled to mind some features of Ibrahim's childhood, and related them with such good-humour and gaiety, that nobody could have suspected this kind and hospitable32 host to be the hero of Poltava,[2] the powerful and terrible reformer of Russia.
After dinner the Emperor, according to the Russian custom, retired33 to rest. Ibrahim remained with the Empress and the Grand Duchesses. He tried to satisfy their curiosity, described the Parisian way of life, the holidays that were kept there, and the changeable fashions. In the meantime, some of the persons belonging to the Emperor's suite34 had assembled in the palace. Ibrahim recognized the magnificent Prince Menshikoff, who, seeing the negro conversing35 with Catherine, cast an arrogant36 glance at him; Prince Jacob Dolgorouky, Peter's stern counsellor; the learned Bruce,[3] who had acquired among the people the name of the "Russian Faust"; the young Ragouzinsky, his former companion, and others who had come to bring reports to the Emperor and to await his orders.
In about two hours' time the Emperor appeared.
"Let us see," said he to Ibrahim, "if you have forgotten your old duties. Take a slate37 and follow me."
Peter shut himself up in his work-room and busied himself with state affairs. He worked in turns with Bruce, with Prince Dolgorouky, and with General Police-master Devier, and dictated38 to Ibrahim several ukases and decisions. Ibrahim could not help feeling astonished at the quickness and firmness of his understanding, the strength and pliability39 of his powers of observation, and the variety of his occupations. When the work was finished, Peter drew out a pocket-book in order to see if all that he had proposed to do that day had been accomplished40. Then, issuing from the work-room, he said to Ibrahim:
"It is late; no doubt you are tired,—sleep here to-night, as you used to do in the old times; to-morrow I will wake you."
Ibrahim, on being left alone, could hardly collect his thoughts. He found himself in Petersburg; he saw again the great man, near whom, not yet knowing his worth, he had passed his childhood. Almost with regret he confessed to himself that the Countess L——, for the first time since their separation, had not been his sole thought during the whole of the day. He saw that the new mode of life which awaited him,—the activity and constant occupation,—would revive his soul, wearied by passion, idleness and secret grief. The thought of being a fellow-worker with the great man, and, in conjunction with him, of influencing the fate of a great nation, aroused within him for the first time the noble feeling of ambition. In this disposition41 of mind he lay down upon the camp bed prepared for him, and then the usual dreams carried him back to far-off Paris, to the arms of his dear Countess.
[1] Diminutive42 of Catherine.
[2] A town in the Ukraine, where, in 1709, the Swedes, under Charles XII., were completely routed by the Russians under Peter the Great.
[3] Peter the Great encouraged foreigners of ability to settle in Russia.
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1
seduced
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| 诱奸( seduce的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾引； 诱使堕落； 使入迷 | |
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2
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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3
subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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6
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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7
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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8
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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10
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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11
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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12
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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13
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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14
agitations
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| （液体等的）摇动( agitation的名词复数 )； 鼓动； 激烈争论； （情绪等的）纷乱 | |
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15
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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16
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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17
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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19
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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20
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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21
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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23
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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24
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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25
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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27
warships
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| 军舰，战舰( warship的名词复数 )； 舰只 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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29
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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30
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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31
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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32
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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33
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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34
suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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36
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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37
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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38
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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39
pliability
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| n.柔韧性；可弯性 | |
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40
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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41
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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42
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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