“Shall I, then, send away Count Ostermann?” sulkily asked Julia.

“That I may, consequently, for the whole evening see you with a dissatisfied face?  No, let him come; but forget not that I submit to this annoyance only to please you.”

With a grateful smile, Julia kissed the regent’s hand, and then hastened to bear to Count Ostermann the favorable answer.

In a few minutes, Count Ostermann, painfully supporting himself upon two crutches, entered the regent’s cabinet.

Anna Leopoldowna received him, sitting in an armchair, and listlessly rummaging in a band-box filled with various articles of dress and embroidery, which had just been brought to her.

“Well,” said she, raising her eyes for a moment to glance at Ostermann, “you come at a very inconvenient hour, Herr Minister Count Ostermann.  You see that I am already occupied with my toilet, and am endeavoring to find a suitable head-dress.  Will you aid me in the choice, sir count?”

Ostermann had until now, painfully and with many suppressed groans, sustained himself upon his feet; at a silent nod from the princess he glided down into a chair, and staring at Anna with his piercing and wonderfully-flashing eyes, he said: 

“You highness would select a head-dress?  Well, as you ask my advice in the matter, I will give it; choose a head-dress so firm and solid as to prove a fortification for the defence of your head.  Choose a head-dress that will protect you against conspiracies and revolutions, against false friends and smiling enemies!  Choose a head-dress that will keep your head upon your shoulders!”

“Count Ostermann speaks in riddles,” said Anna, smiling, and at the same time arranging a wreath of artificial roses.  “Or no, it was not Count Ostermann, but a toad singing his hoarse song.  Drive away that toad, Ostermann, it is broad day—­why, then, have we the croaking of such night-birds?”

“Listen to the croaking of this toad,” anxiously responded the old man.  “Believe me, princess, when the toads croak in broad daylight, it betokens an approaching misfortune.  Let it warn you, Madame Regent Anna!  You have called me a toad—­very well, toads always have correctly prophesied misfortune, and if they can never avert it, it is because otherwise people will not listen to such oracular voices of all-wise Nature!  Let me be your toad, your highness, and listen to me!  I foresee misfortune for you.  Believe my prophecy, and that misfortune may yet be averted.  Mark the signs by which fate would warn you!  Did you not yesterday see Elizabeth driving through the streets, chatting and jesting with the soldiers, who crowded around her sledge?  Have you not heard how the grenadiers of the Preobrajensky regiment shouted after her?  Has it not been told you that Lestocq holds secret intercourse with the French ambassador, and know you not that Lestocq is the confidential servant of the princess?  Guard yourself against Princess Elizabeth, your highness!”