Alexis Razumovsky fell upon his knees before her, and, imploringly raising his hands, said: 

“Elizabeth, my empress, have compassion for my care and anxiety on your account; leave me not to tremble for your safety!  Grant me the happiness of seeing you unthreatened and free from danger in your greatness and splendor!  Oh, Elizabeth, listen to the prayer of your faithful servant—­let not this Anna Leopoldowna pass the boundary of your realm—­let not your most deadly enemy escape!”

“Oh, grant his prayer,” cried Lestocq, kneeling beside Alexis; “there is wisdom in his words; listen to him rather than to the too great generosity of your own heart!  Let not your enemies escape, but seize them while they are yet in your power!”

“Elizabeth, greatest and fairest woman on earth,” implored Alexis, “have compassion for my anxiety; I shall never laugh again, never be cheerful, if you allow these your most dangerous enemies to withdraw themselves from your power!”

Elizabeth bent down to him with a smile of tenderness, and laid her left hand upon his locks, while with her right she gently raised his head to herself.

“Love you me, then, so very much, my Alexis,” she asked, “that you suffer with anxiety for my safety?  Ah, that makes me happy—­that fills my whole heart with joy!  Only look at him, Lestocq; see how beautiful he is, and then say whether one can refuse the prayer of those heavenly eyes, those pleading lips?”

“You will, then, grant my prayer?” exultingly asked Alexis.

“Well, yes,” tenderly responded she, “since there is no other means of rendering you again cheerful and happy, I must, indeed, consent to the fulfilment of your wishes, and not let my enemies quit the country if it be yet possible to retain them.”

“They have proceeded by slow marches, and can hardly now have arrived in Riga, where they are to rest several days,” said Lestocq.  “There will consequently be time for a courier yet to reach them with your counter-order.”

“And he must be dispatched immediately!” said Alexis, pressing the hand of the empress to his lips.  “In this hour will my kind and gracious empress sign the command for the arrest of Anna Leopoldowna, her husband, and her son!”

“Already another signature!” sighed Elizabeth.  “How you annoy me with this eternal signing and countersigning!  Will it, then, never have an end?  I already begin to hate my name, because of being compelled so often to write it under your musty old documents.  Why did the emperor, my dear deceased father, give me so long a name!—­a shorter one would now relieve me of half my labor!”

But in spite of her lamentings, Elizabeth nevertheless, a quarter of an hour later, subscribed the order to arrest the regent, her husband, and son, and shut them up, preliminarily, in the citadel of Riga.

“So now I hope you will again be happy and cheerful,” said she, throwing away the pen, and with a tender glance at Razumovsky.  “Come, look at me—­I have done all you wished; let us now be gay and take our pleasure.”