Olga Romanoff | Page 9

as it seemed, with the unconscious motion of a
somnambulist, allowed her form to sink back upon the cushions until
she half sat and half reclined on them; and Serge, laying one of the
cushions on the floor, sat at her feet, and drew one of her hands
unresistingly over his shoulder, and kept it there as though she were
caressing him. Thus they waited for Paul Romanoff to teach them the
lesson that they had sworn to teach in turn to the generations that were
to come.
The old man regarded them in silence for a moment or two, and as he
did so the angry fire died out of his eyes, and his lips parted in a faint
smile as he said, rather in soliloquy to himself than to them--
"As it was in the beginning, it is now and for ever shall be until the end!
Empires wax and wane, and dynasties rise and fall! Revolutions come
and go, and the face of the world is changed, but the mystery of the sex,
the beauty of woman, and the love of man, endure changeless as
Destiny, for they are Destiny itself!"

As he spoke, the fixed, rigid look melted from Olga's face The bright
flush rose again to her cheeks, and she bowed her royal head, and
looked almost tenderly at the blond, ruddy, young giant at her feet.
After all, he was her fate, and she might well have had a worse one.
Then after a brief pause, Paul Romanoff began to speak again, slowly
and quietly, with his eyes fixed on the glittering symbol of the vanished
sovereignty of his House, as though he were addressing it, and
communing with the mournful memories that it recalled from the past.
"It is a hundred and twenty-five years since the hand of Natas, the Jew,
came forth out of the unknown, and struck you from the brow of the
Last of the Tsars. On the day that Natas died, I was born, a hundred
years ago. There are barely a score of men left on earth who have seen
and spoken with the men who saw the Great Revolt and the beginning
of the Terror, and I alone, of the elder line of Romanoff, remain to pass
the story of our House's shame and ruin on, so that it may not be
forgotten against the day of vengeance, that I have waited for in vain.
"But I have no time left for dreams or vain regrets. Listen, Children of
the Present, and take my words with you into the future that it is not
given to me to see."
He passed his hands upwards over his eyes and brow, and then went on,
speaking now directly to Olga and Serge, in a quick, earnest tone, as
though he feared that his fictitious strength would fail him before he
could say what he had to say.
"When Alexander, the last of the crowned Emperors of Russia, fell
down dead on the morning after he reached the mines of Kara, to which
the Terrorists had exiled him as a convict for life, those who remained
of his family, and who had taken no part in the war, were allowed to
return to Europe, on condition that they lived the lives of private
citizens and sought no share in the government of any country to which
they were allied by marriage or otherwise.
"Only two of those who had survived the march to Siberia were able to
avail themselves of this permission, and these were Olga, the daughter

of Alexander, and Serge Nicholaivitch, the youngest son of his nephew
Nicholas. These two settled at the Court of Denmark, and there, two
years later, Olga married Prince Ingeborg. Her first-born son, the only
one of her children who lived beyond infancy, was my father, as my
own first-born son was yours, Olga Romanoff.
"Serge married Dagmar, the youngest daughter of the House of
Denmark, three years later, and from him you, Serge Nicholaivitch, are
descended in the fourth generation. Thus in you will be united the only
two remaining branches of the once mighty House of Romanoff. May
the day come when, in you or your children, its ancient glories shall be
restored!"
"Amen!" said Olga and Serge in a single breath, and as she uttered the
words, Olga's eyes fell on the lost crown upon the table, and for the
moment they seemed to flame with the inner fires of a quenchless rage.
Paul Romanoff's eyes answered hers flash for flash, for the same hatred
and longing for revenge possessed them both -- the old man who had
carried the weight of a hundred years to the brink of the grave, and the
young girl whose feet were still lingering on the