k had nothing to do with the conspiracy. It was for
quite another cause. But it proved to be an accident with great results,
since the Orlofs, who were deep in the conspiracy, thought that their
lives were in danger, and that safety lay only in prompt action. As a
result, at five A.M.. on July 9, Alexis Orlof suddenly appeared at
Peterhof, and demanded to see the empress at once.

Catharine was fast asleep when the young officer hastily entered her
room. He lost no time in waking her. She gazed on him with surprise and
alarm.

"It is time to get up," he said, in as calm a tone as if he had been
announcing that breakfast was waiting. "Everything is ready for your
proclamation."

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Passek is arrested. You must come," he said, in the same tone.

This was enough. A long perspective of peril lay behind those words. The
empress arose, dressed in all haste, and sprang into the coach beside
which Orlof awaited her. One of her women entered with her, Orlof seated
himself in front, a groom sprang up behind, and off they set, at
headlong speed, for St. Petersburg.

The distance was nearly twenty miles, and the horses, which had already
covered that distance, were in very poor condition for doubling it
without rest. In his haste Orlof had not thought of ordering a relay.
His carelessness might have cost them dear, since it was of vital moment
to reach the city without delay. Fortunately, they met a peasant, and
borrowed two horses from his cart. Those two horses perhaps won the
throne for Catharine.

[Illustration: A RUSSIAN DROSKY.]

Five miles from the city they met two others of the conspirators,
devoured with anxiety. Changing to the new coach, the party drove in at
breakneck pace, and halted before the barracks of the Ismailofsky
regiment, with which the conspirators had been at work.

It was between six and seven o'clock in the morning. Only a dozen men
were at the barracks. Nothing had been prepared. Excitement or terror
had turned all heads. Yet now no time was lost. Drummers were roused and
drums beaten. Out came soldiers in haste, half dressed and half asleep.

"Shout 'Long live the empress!'" demanded the visitors.

Without hesitation the guardsmen obeyed, their only thought at the
moment being that of a free flow of _vodka_, the Russian drink. A priest
was quickly brought, who, like the soldiers, was prepared to do as he
was told. Raising the cross, he hastily offered them