, and her son--them you will permit to return to Germany!"

"We must accomplish the will of the empress, and therefore let them go!"

"We will obey her commands," said Lestocq to Alexis Razumovsky. "We
must let them go free, but it would be dangerous to let them ever reach
Germany. With their persons they would preserve their rights and their
claims, and Elizabeth would always stand in fear of this regent and this
young growing emperor, whose claims to the imperial Russian crown are
incontestable. You alone, Razumovsky, can turn away this danger from the
head of the empress, by convincing her of its reality, and inducing her
to change her mind. Reflect that the safety of the empress is our own;
reflect that, as we have risen with her, so shall we fall with her!"

"Rely upon me," said Alexis, with a confident smile; "this regent and
her young Emperor Ivan shall never pass the Russian boundary! Let them
now go, but send a strong guard with them, and travel by slow marches,
that our couriers may be able to overtake them at a later period. That
is all you have to do in the case."

And, humming a sentimental song, Alexis repaired to the apartments of
the empress.

Before the back door of the palace Elizabeth had occupied as princess, a
travelling-sledge was waiting. Gayly sounded and clattered the bells on
the six small horses attached to the sledge; gayly did the postilions
blow their horns, and with enticing calls resounded the thundering
_fanfares_ through the cold winter air.

To those for whom this sledge was destined, this call sounded like a
greeting from heaven. It was to them the dove with the olive-branch,
announcing to them the end of their torments; it was the messenger of
peace, which gave them back their freedom, their lives, and perhaps
even happiness. They were to return to Germany, their long-missed home;
hastening through the Russian snow-fields, they would soon reach a
softer climate, where they would be surrounded by milder manners and
customs. What was it to Anna that she was to be deprived of earthly
elevation and power--what cared she that she henceforth would no more
have the pleasure of commanding others? She was free, free from the task
of ruling slaves and humanizing barbarians; free from the constraint
of greatness, and, finally free to live in conformity with her own
inclinations, and perhaps, ah, perhaps, to found a happiness, the bare
dreaming of which already caused her heart to tremble w