“Ahem! this tender Empress Catharine knows how to judge of manly beauty,” murmured he, with a self-satisfied smile, “and I cannot blame her for so often giving me the preference over my brother Gregory.  Besides, I shall first appear before this little Princess Natalie in my antique dress.  Catharine has often told me I was enchanting in my antique costume.  Well, we will also let this enchantment work a little here.  But first we must think of what is nearest to us.  This Corilla has rendered us a service, and we must be grateful.  They say she loves diamonds.  I shall therefore send her these diamonds which her eleve Joseph Ribas last night made the property of the Russian crown.  And with them I will send a little billet, written with my own hand.  Who knows but that this will give her more pleasure than the sparkling brilliants!”

In that, however, the handsome Count Orloff was mistaken.  The poetess Corilla therein resembled to a hair the prima-donnas and heroines of the stage of the present day.  She attached a great value to diamonds, and knowing that Russia was very rich in gold and diamonds, she always had an especially bewitching smile for Russian grandees.  Had Count Orloff come in person to bring the diamonds, she would undoubtedly have more admired him, apparently been more pleased with his presence than with his costly gift; but, as he was not there, there was no necessity for dissimulation.

She read Count Orloff’s billet with a satisfied smile; but soon laid it aside for the delight of examining the jewels.

“How that shines, and how that sparkles,” said the exhilarated poetess; “not even a lover’s eyes flash so brightly, nor is his smile so proud, so full of rich certainty, as the sparkling of these gems!  They are enchanters, and a word from me can change these solitaires and rosettes into a beautiful villa, or into a fragrant park with silent arbors, intoxicating odors, and sweetly-singing birds.  All that is promised me by these stones—­a lover’s promises do not express half so much.  And only to think that it is Carlo, my former lover, to whom I am indebted for these diamonds!  From love to him I wished to destroy Natalie, and that wish procured me the favor of the Russian count, and consequently these brilliants.  Poor Carlo! these diamonds outlast you.  How bright and beautiful were your glances that are now extinguished by death—­but this cruel, inexorable death has no power over diamonds!  It cannot strangle these as thou wert strangled, poor Carlo!  I shall remember thee this evening, Carlo, and hope the thought of thee may inspire me for a right beautiful improvisation on death!  I shall take pains to bring to mind thy beautiful form overflowed with blood.  Yes, it will inspire in me a very effective improvisation, and I will at the same time make a selection from my dear poets of some striking rhymes upon death and the grave.  And when I have the rhymes, the thoughts and words will come of themselves.  Rhymes, rhymes, these are the main things with poets!”