Beauty and The Beast | Page 5

yards apart. The merchant entered the main street, or bazaar, looking
rapidly to right and left, as he ran, in the hope of espying some place of refuge. The
terrible voice behind him cried,--
"Stop, scoundrel! I have a crow to pick with you!"
And the tradesmen in their shops looked on and laughed, as well they might, being
unconcerned spectators of the fun. The fugitive, therefore, kept straight on,
notwithstanding a pond of water glittered across the farther end of the street.
Although Prince Alexis had gained considerably in the race, such violent exercise, after a
heavy dinner, deprived him of breath. He again cried,--
"Stop!"
"But the merchant answered,--
"No, Highness! You may come to me, but I will not go to you."
"Oh, the villian!" growled the Prince, in a hoarse whisper, for he had no more voice.
The pond cut of all further pursuit. Hastily kicking off his loose boots, the merchant
plunged into the water, rather than encounter the princely whip, which already began to
crack and snap in fierce anticipation. Prince Alexis kicked off his boots and followed; the
pond gradually deepened, and in a minute the tall merchant stood up to his chin in the icy
water, and his short pursuer likewise but out of striking distance. The latter coaxed and
entreated, but the victim kept his ground.
"You lie, Highness!" he said, boldly. "If you want me, come to me."
"Ah-h-h!" roared the Prince, with chattering teeth, "what a stubborn rascal you are! Come
here, and I give you my word that I will not hurt you. Nay,"--seeing that the man did not
move,--"you shall dine with me as often as you please. You shall be my friend; by St.
Vladimir, I like you!"
"Make the sign of the cross, and swear it by all the Saints," said the merchant,
composedly.
With a grim smile on his face, the Prince stepped back and shiveringly obeyed. Both then
waded out, sat down upon the ground and pulled on their boots; and presently the people
of Kinesma beheld the dripping pair walking side by side up the street, conversing in the
most cordial manner. The merchant dried his clothes FROM WITHIN, at the castle table;
a fresh keg of old Cognac was opened; and although the slumber-flag was not unfurled
that afternoon, it flew from the staff and hushed the town nearly all the next day.

III.
The festival granted on behalf of Prince Boris was one of the grandest ever given at the
castle. In character it was a singular cross between the old Muscovite revel and the
French entertainments which were then introduced by the Empress Elizabeth.
All the nobility, for fifty versts around, including Prince Paul and the chief families of
Kostroma, were invited. Simon Petrovitch had been so carefully guarded that his work
was actually completed and the parts distributed; his superintendence of the performance,
however, was still a matter of doubt, as it was necessary to release him from the tower,
and after several days of forced abstinence he always manifested a raging appetite. Prince
Alexis, in spite of this doubt, had been assured by Boris that the dramatic part of the
entertainment would not be a failure. When he questioned Sasha, the poet's

strong-shouldered guard, the latter winked familiarly and answered with a proverb,--
"I sit on the shore and wait for the wind,"--which was as much as to say that Sasha had
little fear of the result
The tables were spread in the great hall, where places for one hundred chosen guests were
arranged on the floor, while the three or four hundred of minor importance were provided
for in the galleries above. By noon the whole party were assembled. The halls and
passages of the castle were already permeated with rich and unctuous smells, and a
delicate nose might have picked out and arranged, by their finer or coarser vapors, the
dishes preparing for the upper and lower tables. One of the parasites of Prince Alexis, a
dilapidated nobleman, officiated as Grand Marshal,--an office which more than
compensated for the savage charity he received, for it was performed in continual fear
and trembling. The Prince had felt the stick of the Great Peter upon his own back, and
was ready enough to imitate any custom of the famous monarch.
An orchestra, composed principally of horns and brass instruments, occupied a separate
gallery at one end of the dining-hall. The guests were assembled in the adjoining
apartments, according to their rank; and when the first loud blast of the instruments
announced the beginning of the banquet, two very differently attired and freighted
processions of servants made their appearance at the same time. Those intended for the
princely table numbered two hundred,--two for each guest. They were the