Keep them at a distance. Keep them under, or
they will get the better of you!"
Katherine had taken the last letter, as though absent-mindedly, and
began to read it. Then she coloured, and tore it in two. "You must
not write to actresses. That is too great an honour for them, and
can only disgrace us."
The Czar smiled, and was not angry. He had not intended to send the
letter, but only scribbled it in order to excite his wife, perhaps
also to show off.
There was a sound of approaching footsteps underneath.
"See! there is my friend, the scoundrel!"
"Hush!" said Katherine, "Menshikoff is your friend."
"A fine friend! Already once I have condemned him to death as a
thief and deceiver; but he lives still, thanks to your friendship."
"Hush!"
Menshikoff (he was a great soldier, an able statesman, an
indispensable favourite, enormously rich) came hurrying up the
wooden stairs. It was in his house that the Czar had found his
Katherine. He was handsome, looked like a Frenchman, dressed well,
and had polished manners. He greeted the Czar ceremoniously, and
kissed Katherine's hand.
"Now they are there again," he commenced.
"The Strelitzil? [Footnote: a Russian body-guard first established by
Ivan the Terrible.] Have I not rooted them out?"
They grow like the dragon's seed, and now they want to deliver
Alexis.
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