sity which the Emperor had shown to Kosciuszko and Potocki, excited not only their envy, but also their apprehensions. They thought, even, that if I was to remain longer at St. Petersburgh, I might succeed in getting into the Emperor's favour, and doing great harm to their interests. I was informed of these apprehensions, and laughed heartily at them. One day, however, whilst I was dining with General Kosciuszko, an officer came from Mr. Archarow, the Lieutenant of the Petersburgh police, and requested me to accompany him immediately to the house of the latter. I knew what Archarow was: I knew, also, that from his house victims were sent either to prison or Siberia. Though I was sure of having neither done nor even spoken anything that could draw new misfortune upon me, still I was aware what calumny could do, and this summons to appear before the Minister of Police, as well as the precaution taken in delivering it, could not but alarm me. I rose, and had scarcely time to say to the General: “I know the danger I
