The Daughter of an Empress | Page 3

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Etext prepared by Dagny, [email protected] and John Bickers,
[email protected]

THE DAUGHTER OF AN EMPRESS By Louise Muhlbach

CONTENTS
Countess Natalie Dolgorucki Count Munnich Count Ostermann The
Night of the Conspiracy Hopes Deceived The Regent Anna
Leopoldowna The Favorite No Love Princess Elizabeth A Conspiracy
The Warning The Court Ball The Pencil-Sketch The Revolution The
Sleep of Innocence The Recompensing Punishment The Palace of the
Empress Eleonore Lapuschkin A Wedding Scenes and Portraits Princes
also must die The Charmed Garden The Letters Diplomatic Quarrels
The Fish Feud Pope Ganganelli (Clement XIV.) The Pope's Recreation
Hour A Death-Sentence The Festival of Cardinal Bernis The
Improvisatrice The Departure An Honest Betrayer Alexis Orloff Corilla
The Holy Chafferers "Sic transit gloria mundi" The Vapo The Invasion
Intrigues The Dooming Letter The Russian Officer Anticipation He!
The Warning The Russian Fleet Conclusion

THE DAUGHTER OF AN EMPRESS

COUNTESS NATALIE DOLGORUCKI
"No, Natalie, weep no more! Quick, dry your tears. Let not my
executioner see that we can feel pain or weep for sorrow!"
Drying her tears, she attempted a smile, but it was an unnatural, painful
smile.
"Ivan," said she, "we will forget, forget all, excepting that we love each
other, and thus only can I become cheerful. And tell me, Ivan, have I
not always been in good spirits? Have not these long eight years in
Siberia passed away like a pleasant summer day? Have not our hearts
remained warm, and has not our love continued undisturbed by the
inclement Siberian cold? You may, therefore, well see that I have the
courage to bear all that can be borne. But you, my beloved, you my
husband, to see you die, without being able to save you, without being
permitted to die with you, is a cruel and unnatural sacrifice! Ivan, let
me weep; let your murderer see that I yet have tears. Oh, my God, I
have no longer any pride, I am nothing but a poor heart-broken woman!
Your widow, I weep over the yet living corpse of my husband!" With
convulsive sobs the trembling young wife fell upon her knees and with

frantic grief clung to her husband's feet.
Count Ivan Dolgorucki no long felt the ability to stand aloof from her
sorrow. He bent down to his wife, raised her in his arms, and with her
he wept for his youth, his lost life, the vanishing happiness of his love,
and the shame of his fatherhood.
"I should joyfully go to my death, were it for the benefit of my
country," said he. "But to fall a sacrifice to a cabal, to the jealousy of an
insidious, knavish favorite, is what makes the death- hour fearful. Ah, I
die for naught, I die that Munnich, Ostermann, and Biron may remain
securely in power. It is horrible thus to die!"
Natalie's eyes flashed with a fanatic glow. "You die," said she, "and I
shall live, will live, to see how God will avenge you upon