o avoid making a mistake, did nothing at all. They remained in their
palaces, ostensibly giving themselves up to deep mourning for the
decease of the beloved czarina, whom every one of them secretly hated so
long as she was yet alive.

There were but a few who were not in uncertainty respecting the
immediate future, and conspicuous among that few was Field-Marshal Count
Munnich.

While all hesitated and wavered in anxious doubt, Munnich alone was
calm. He knew what was coming, because he had had a hand in shaping the
event.

"Oh," said he, while walking his room with folded arms, "we have at
length attained the object of our wishes, and this bright emblem for
which I have so long striven will now finally become mine. I shall be
the ruler of this land, and in the unrestricted exercise of royal power
I shall behold these millions of venal slaves grovelling at my feet,
and whimpering for a glance or a smile. Ah, how sweet is this governing
power!

"But," he then continued, with a darkened brow, "what is the good of
being the ruler if I cannot bear the name of ruler?--what is it to
govern, if another is to be publicly recognized as regent and receive
homage as such? The kernel of this glory will be mine, but the shell,--I
also languish for the shell. But no, this is not the time for such
thoughts, now, when the circumstances demand a cheerful mien and every
outward indication of satisfaction! My time will also come, and, when
it comes, the shell as well as the kernel shall be mine! But this is the
hour for waiting upon the Duke of Courland! I shall be the first to wish
him joy, and shall at the same time remind him that he has given me his
ducal word that he will grant the first request I shall make to him as
regent. Well, well, I will ask now, that I may hereafter command."

The field-marshal ordered his carriage and proceeded to the palace of
the Duke of Courland.

A deathlike stillness prevailed in the streets through which he rode. On
every hand were to be seen only curtained windows and closed palaces;
it seemed as if this usually so brilliant and noisy quarter of St.
Petersburg had suddenly become deserted and desolate. The usual
equipages, with their gold and silver-laced attendants, were nowhere to
be seen.

The count's carriage thundered through the deserted streets, but
wherever he passed curious faces were seen peeping from the curtained
windows of the palaces; all doors were hastily opened behind him, a