pair of soft noiseless list slippers. The guard, after making a minute personal examination, in search of some possible criminal matter, withdraws; the heavy door swings to with a dull echo, the bolts slip into the padlock, and the prisoner is left alone, in the midst of a stillness and silence like that of death.

Gloomy, forbidding, sombre, the walls and vaulted ceiling rise about and above him, the air is heavy and lifeless, the silence is profound; not even an echoing footstep in the corridor makes a welcome noise, for the guards creep about in felt slippers as noiseless and as muffled as his own. And thus the purgatory of his sentence begins; and who, save Almighty God, can say when it shall end! While hour by hour the chimes of the fortress-cathedral ring out their triumphant notes—a mockery of the poor soul in torment—or toll the miserere, that sounds a knell to all his hopes.

It was at the entrance to the Trubetskoi bastion that the Imperial party alighted. Extraordinary reports as to the violence and cruelty practised within the walls of Petropavlovsk had lately become so widely disseminated throughout Petersburg, mingled with such threats of summary justice to be shortly meted out to the officials by the hands of the enraged populace, and such sinister warnings of personal vengeance, that the press of all parties called upon the Tsar to prove himself Emperor in his own domains, by investigating and abolishing the scandals.

It was a time of grave anxiety; but he, listening to the counsels of those who had in past difficulties proved their loyalty and disinterestedness, yielded at last to their persuasions, and resolved to adopt the extreme measure of a personal inspection of the maligned fortress. The Empress, on hearing this decision, and who, despite her gentle looks and quiet manner, owned the courage and high spirit of her Danish ancestors, at once determined to accompany her husband.

The populace should see that their Tsar and Tsarina neither feared to trust themselves to the people, nor shrank from redressing wrong when brought before their notice, though indeed none knew better than she how purely perfunctory and ceremonious would be the inspection and its results.

The governor of Petropavlovsk and the lieutenant of the Trubetskoi bastion received the distinguished guests, and welcomed them with apparent relief and pleasure, throwing open the doors of the casemates one by one, and standing back deferentially, with more of sorrow than of anger on their official countenances; for was not theirs a sad example of unrequited and misjudged zeal, since even they could be regarded with suspicion and doubted in their humanity?

Most of the casemates were found to be unoccupied, and Patouchki, who walked beside the Emperor, never failed on each such occasion to draw his Imperial Highness's attention to the fact.

"I believe, sir," he said, as they entered the last of the lower range of cells, and found it like its predecessors, empty, swept, and garnished, "that one of the most formidable counts in the public indictment against Petropavlovsk, is the over-crowding of its cells, and their uncleanly condition. Your Majesty has now visited thirty-five of these casemates, the greater number of which have been found unoccupied, and all of them in perfect sanitary order. I think, sir, this answers that complaint."

The Tsar sighed, but made no reply. Perhaps he, like Patouchki, wished to make the best of everything and see only the brightest side; but even he could not still the premonitions of evil that arose thick and fast in his mind, as he comprehended the immensity and power of this Imperial prison house of Russia.

Of the few victims found in the cells none recognised the Royal party. They were for the most part political offenders from the interior provinces, who had never before been in Petersburg, and to whom the face of their new Tsar was not as yet sufficiently familiar to make recognition possible, especially as his dress differed in no respect from that of the officers accompanying him. Little did the poor victims imagine, as they were hurriedly changed, early that morning, from one part of the fortress to another, that it was to avoid any accidental recognition on the part of those, who, being the last to enter the prison, still retained memories of the outer world, and sentiments of Imperial justice—believing that their Tsar, once convinced of their innocent incarceration, would order their instant release—that this transfer was made. Any possible outbreak was to be avoided at all hazards, since any such émeute could not but end awkwardly for the Imperial inspectors, and disastrously for the officials.

Had these poor wretches but suspected that the tall, soldierly man, wearing a scarlet kaftan, without ribbon or order, and who looked gloomy and thoughtful beneath the military helmet, was their Tsar—their little father, the great Emperor of all the Russias—how they would have fallen at his feet, praying his interference; protesting their loyalty, and maintaining their innocence! Or had the faintest doubt crossed their minds, that the slight upright woman, clad in those closely-clinging, sombre robes, whose eyes looked so pitifully forth, and whose face was so wan and pale, might perchance be their Tsarina, what tears and sobs, what pleadings and supplications would have rent the air, as they kissed her hands, or grasped wildly at her garments!

But fate was against them; their opportunity came to them unsought, and they passed it by unknowing. How should they know, poor souls, to whom even a word of ordinary greeting from their jailers was denied, and to whom no echo of news ever penetrated, how should they know, that at the very moment, as they were praying passionately for some means of communication with their Emperor, he himself stood before them, and that had they but put out their hands they could have touched him?

It was the cruel irony of fate; the bitter obligation of destiny.

As the guards threw open the massive casemate doors in silence, most of the inmates did not so much as raise their heads or change their attitudes. Why should they? It was only another of those many interruptions in their day's vacuity, in which the jailer played the part of inspector with maddening sameness. What call had they to look more often on his hated face than was needful?

Scarce a word passed between the Tsar and Tsarina, or their suite; the pall of absolute silence which enfolds great Petropavlovsk in the dark mantle of submission, had descended also upon them, and so held them captive as to kill any outward expression of inward emotion. Sometimes it was the "Judas" only that was lifted, and then the Tsarina would turn away her eyes and refuse to look, standing apart with anxiety and sadness written on her pale face; and when this happened, Olga would separate herself from Ivor, and waiting silently by her Royal mistress, watch her every motion with the sympathy of comprehension.

And so the weary task dragged on its heavy chain; there remained but one more cell, and then this horrible nightmare of duty, this travesty of inspection, would be over, and they might hurry away from out this gloom and depression, and seek once more the brilliant sunshine, the gaily-thronged streets, where at least the grim spectres of despair and desperation, if they stalked among the careless mummers, were out-balanced by the laughter and jesting of the merry-makers.

At length they reached the last casemate of all, and as the door was unbolted and thrown open, the Emperor and Patouchki stepped across the threshold. Seated on the iron pallet, his arms thrown out across the table, was an old man, whose head was white with the snows of many winters. He neither moved nor spoke as those without came towards him; his hands were waxen in colour, nerveless, and attenuated; the blue dressing-gown hung loosely upon his emaciated form; his face was hidden on his arm. Something in the intense stillness and rigidity of the attitude, in