Can this be done for love of novelty?  The existence of this secret society was repeatedly divulged to the police, and these cannot be reproached for not having taken the necessary steps to denounce it; but proceedings once begun usually evaporated into thin air, and led to no results.  The investigating officer either never discovered suspicious facts, or, if he did, matters were adjourned.  Those who were arrested in connection with the affair were in some way set at liberty in peace and quietness; every document relating to the matter was either burned or vanished, and whole sealed cases of writings were turned into plain white paper.  When an influential officer took energetically in hand the prosecution of “The Nameless,” he was generally sent to a foreign country on an important mission, from which he did not return for a considerable period.  “The Nameless Society” must have had very powerful protectors.  At the conclusion of one of these free and easy entertainments, a young Cossack hetman remained behind the crowd of departing guests, and when quite alone with the host he said to him: 

“Jelagin, did you see the pretty woman with whom I danced the mazurka to-night?”

“Yes, I saw her.  Are you smitten with her, as others have been?”

“That woman I must make my wife.”

Jelagin gave the Cossack a blow on the shoulder and looked into his eyes.

“That you will not do!  You will not take her as your wife, friend Jemeljan.”

“I shall marry her—­I have resolved to do so.”

“You will not marry her, for she will not go to you.”

“If she does not come I will carry her off against her will.”

“You can’t marry her, because she has a husband.”

“If she has a husband I will carry her off in company with him!”

“You can’t carry her off, for she lives in a palace—­she is guarded by many soldiers, and accompanied in her carriage by many outriders.”

“I will take her away with her palace, her soldiers, and her carriage.  I swear it by St. Gregory!”

Jelagin laughed mockingly.

“Good Jemeljan, go home and sleep out your love—­that pretty woman is the Czarina!”

The hetman became pale for a moment, his breath stopped; but the next instant, with sparkling eyes, he said to Jelagin: 

“In spite of this, what I have said I have said.”

Jelagin showed the door to his guest.  But, improbable as it may seem, Jemeljan was really not intoxicated, unless it were with the eyes of the pretty woman.

A few years elapsed.  The Society of “The Nameless” was dissolved, or changed into one of another form.  Katharine had her husband, the Czar, killed, and wore the crown herself.  Many people said she had him killed, others took her part.  It was urged that she knew what was going to happen, but could not prevent it—­that she was compelled to act as she did, and to affect, after a great struggle