a prophetess," he thought. The persons on either side of her scarcely attracted his attention at all; they were her son-in-law, the Baron de Berckheim, and a young Swiss pastor, whom Adèle called M. Empaytaz.
Just as the clock in an adjoining apartment began to strike, the door opened once more, and an officer of tall and commanding aspect entered the room. He went quietly to what was evidently his accustomed place, close to one of the lights, laid a Bible which he had brought with him on the table, and sat down. Ivan found it as much as he could do to suppress a cry of amazement—for it was the Czar. But he held his peace, and neither by look nor sign betrayed what he felt.
A prayer was offered, in which Ivan was far too bewildered to join; he scarcely even observed that it was unlike any prayer he had ever heard before, being extempore. Then the young pastor opened his Bible, read a passage, and began to expound it. But Ivan heard little; for he could not withdraw his eyes from the Czar, who was listening intently to every word, and who found and read every passage of Scripture referred to, making constant use of the little eye-glass he always carried in his sleeve.[1]
After some time, however, it occurred to Ivan that what interested the Czar so deeply ought to interest him too. Surely some mysterious power must dwell in the words which could thus enchain a soul already filled with weighty cares, tremendous responsibilities, soaring projects. Of what was the pastor speaking?
A sentence reached his ear that caught and held his thoughts, making him also an absorbed and eager listener. It would not be true to say that he forgot thenceforward the presence of the Czar—that would have been impossible—but he felt it only as an influence which added a conclusive weight of evidence and a potent undefinable charm to all that was said.
- ↑ All this, as also the account given at the end of this chapter, is strictly historical.
