The Daughter of an Empress

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!"