They held each other in a last embrace. Anna wept hot tears, but Julia
remained calm, and even smiled.
"They may send me to Siberia, if they please, my heart will remain warm
under the coldness of the Siberian climate, and this great happiness of
knowing that you and yours are saved they cannot rend from me; that will
be for me a talisman against all misfortunes!"
"But I," sadly responded Anna--"shall I not always be tortured by the
reflection that it is I who have been the cause of your misfortunes? Are
you not condemned because you loved and were true to me? Ah, does love,
then, deserve so hard a punishment?"
"The punishment passes, but love remains," calmly responded Julia. "That
will always be my consolation."
"And mine also," sighed Anna.
"You will not need it," said Julia, with a smile. "You, at least, will
be happy."
Anna sighed again, and her cheek paled. A dark and terrible image arose
in her soul, and she shudderingly whispered: "Ah, would that we were once beyond the Russian boundary, for then,
first, shall we be free."
"Then let us hasten our journey," said Prince Ulrich; "once in the
sledge, and every minute brings us nearer to freedom and happiness. Only
hear how the horns are calling us, Anna--they call us to Germany! Come,
take your son, wrap him close in your furred mantle, and let us hasten
away--away from here!" The prince laid little Ivan in the arms of his
wife, and drew her away with him.
"Farewell, farewell, my Julia!" cried Anna, as she took he seat in the
sledge.
"Farewell!" was echoed as a low spirit-breath from the palace.
Shuddering, Anna pressed her child to her bosom, and cast an anxiously
interrogating glance at her husband, who was sitting by her.
"Be calm, tranquillize yourself--it will all be well," said the latter,
with a smile.
The postilion blew his horn--the horses started; gayly resounded the
tones of the silver bells; with a light whizzing, away flew the sledge
over the snow. It bore thence a dethroned emperor and his overthrown
family!
Rapidly did this richly-laden sledge pass through the streets, but,
following it, was a troop of armed, grim-looking soldiers, like
unwholesome ravens following their certain booty.
At about the same hour, another armed troop passed through the streets
of St. Petersburg. With drawn swords they surrounded two closely-covered
sledges, the mysterious occupants of which no one was allowed to descry!
The train made a halt at the same gate through which the overthrown
imperial family had just passed. The soldiers surrounded the sledges
in close ranks; no one was allowed a glimpse at those who alighted from
them.
But these extra precautions of the soldiery were unnecessary, as nobody
wished to see the unfortunate objects. Every one timidly glanced aside,
that they might not, by looking at the poor creatures, bring themselves
into suspicion of favoring men suffering under the displeasure of the
government. But though they looked not at them, every one knew who they
were; though they dared not speak to each other, every one tremblingly
said to himself: "There go Munnich and Ostermann to their trials!"