“And I, too, will lie at your feet and declare myself your slave, Empress Elizabeth!” said Grunstein, kneeling with the others.

But Elizabeth’s anger was already past; only a momentary storm-wind had lashed her gently flowing blood into the high foaming waves of rage; now all again was calm within her, and consequently this solemn homage scene of her four kneeling friends made only a comic impression upon her.

She burst into a loud laugh; astonished and half angry, the kneeling men looked up to her, and that only increased her hilarity.

“Ah, this is infinitely amusing,” said the princess, continuing to laugh; “there lie my vassals, and what vassals!  Herr Lestocq, a physician; Herr Grunstein, a bankrupt shopkeeper and now under-officer; Herr Woronzow, chamberlain; and Alexis Razumovsky, my private secretary.  And here I am, the empress of such vassals, and what sort of an empress?  An empress of four subjects, an empress without a throne and without a crown, without land and without a people—­an empress who never was and never will be an empress!  And in this solemn buffoonery you cut such serious faces as might make one die with laughter.”

The princess threw herself upon the divan and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks.

“Princess,” said Lestocq, rising, “these four men, at whom you now laugh, will make you empress, and then it will be in your power to convert this chirurgeon into a privy councillor and court physician, this bankrupt merchant into a rich banker, this chamberlain into an imperial lord-marshal, and your private secretary into a count or prince of the empire.”

The eyes of the princess shone yet brighter, and with a tender glance at Alexis Razumovsky she said:  “Yes, I will make him a prince and overload him with presents and honors.  Ah, that is an object worth the pains of struggling for an imperial crown.”

“No, no,” interposed Alexis, kissing her hand, “I need neither wealth nor titles; I need nothing, desire nothing but to be near you, to be able to breathe the air that has fanned your cheek.  I desire nothing for myself, but everything for my friends here, with whose faithful aid we shall soon be enabled to greet you a real empress.”

Elizabeth’s brow beamed with the purest blessedness.  “You are as unselfish as the angels in heaven, my Alexis,” said she.  “It suffices you that I am Elizabeth, you languish not for this imperial title which these others would force upon me.”

Alexis smilingly shook his fine head.  “You err, princess,” said he; “I would freely and joyfully give my heart’s blood, could I this day but salute you as empress!  I should then, at least, have no more to fear from this strange prince whom they would compel you to marry!”

A cloud passed over the brow of the princess.  “Yes, you are right,” said she, “we must avoid that at all events, and if there are no other means, very well, I shall know what to decide upon—­I shall venture an attempt to dethrone the regent and make myself empress!  But, my friends, let that now suffice.  I need rest.  Call my women to undress me, Woronzow.  Good-night, good-night, my high and lofty vassals, your great and powerful empress allows you to kiss her hand!”