Blair Collection > Celtic monthly > Volume 5, 1897

138
THE CELTIC MONTHLY.
Often and often did she take a last long look
at the bill standing out clear, jagged, and
sharp, against the sky ; with the white moon-
beams resting on the whiter tombstones. How
often in after years must the quiet sjjot have
arisen before her mental vision, and she have
wished to rest beside her own folk, where she
was never destined to be laid.
By the same hour the following night, the
huge Russian merchantman steamed slowly out
of harbour, carrying away with it two loving
Scottish hearts, one a joyous young bride, but
sick with the home sickness of the mountaineer,
gazing her last on the silence of the everlasting
hills. The other, an older woman, with the
bitter tears rolling down her aged cheeks,
leaving behind her kith and kin for the sake of
her foster child.
Part II.
Years had passed away, and the events I speak
of had become an old story. Tbe chief centre
of interest at the moment lay in the long
newspaper columns devoted to descriptions of
the wedding festivities of the then Czar of all
the Russias. The extreme dignity of the head
of the great house of Romanoff, and the modest
demeanour of his fair young bride ! Ah, well !
an eye-witness of the ceremony described how
the great Czar looked to /lis eyes. Not as if he
were assisting at a joyous ceremony, but cold,
stern, and sad ; his young bride, shrinking by
bis side, seemed already to feel the chill cold
of her future home strike to her very heart.
Only once did any sign of emotion stir tbe rigid
features of the great white Czar, and that was
as tbe stately bridal procession wended their
way down the centre aisle of the church. From
a dark nook in tbe gallery, where stood a
shrouded figure draped in black, a delicate
spi-ay of white mountain heather came riutt.ering
down, down, to the feet of the great Czar of all
the Russias.
There the head of tbe bouse of lii:)mauo£f
stopped, even in the bridal march, and st<joping
down raised the delicate mountain spray to his
lips, whilst his eyes sought the dim recesses of
the gallery in search of tbe unknown donor.
' A wonderful tribute of graceful courtesy,'
said tbe newspapers of the hour, ' So full was
tbe heart of the little white Father of hapi)iness,
that be could not let pass even the slight token
of an unknown well-wisher.' Yet tbe bride
shivered as if an icy blast from the snow-clad
Steppes had pierced her through.
A year after, an heir was born to tbe bouse
of Romanoft', and an aged woman from a distant
country installed as bead nurse. It was the
Czar's command, and no one dared to say him
nay, although the heart burnings of tbe Russians
on the subject were many and sore.
The Czarina, with the strict etiquette of tbe
Russian court of the time, bad few opportunities
of devoting her attentions to her child, which
would have done much to heal tbe ache in the
lonely heart that beat beneath the ermine.
It was an open secret that the Czar neglected
his young wife, spending the most of his leisure
in wild sports among the mountains, where he
bad built himself a maguidcent castle, One
wild night of storm and snow, he appeared
unexpectedly at the Castle of St. Petersburg,
carrying in with him tbe cold outer winds, and
as the sentry on duty afterwards declared, an
animal of some sort wrapped in bis cloak which
gave out strange cries.
Tbe next time tbe Czariua visited the nursery,
her surprise was great indeed on beholding, for
tbe first time since his birth, the Czar with bis
son in his arms, walking up and down tbe room,
a lovelight shining in his eyes she had never
seen there before. His cheek laid caressingly
against that of tbe little one, crooning strange
snatches of song in an unknown tongue.
Standing spellbound, the Czarina gazed from
her husband to the old nurse. Advancing
timidly to where he stood unconscious of her
presence, with slow uncertain steps, until she
drew aside tbe cloak in which the little one was
enveloped.
It must have been a moment of joy and
expectancy to the young wife to see the lovelight
awakening in those clear, cold eyes. Surely,
surely, tbe one tie that bound them to each
other would awaken a little love for her also.
No sooner did the Czar feel her touch than he
started back, a strange look of defiance on his
haughty features, still clasping bis little one
to his breast. Long, long, did tbe mother gaze
on tbe softly rounded cheek, and tbe long dark
lashes, dark as night, resting on the rosy cheeks.
Why does she gaze in tbe Czar's face as she
has never dared to do before '! Doubt, terror,
horror, following each other in rapid succession.
The little Russian undernurse, a girl from
tbe country, trembled with fear at the long
unbroken silence between tbe Royal pair —
broken at last by a long low wail, as tbe
Czarina sunk unconscious to the ground.
» :|; * * * * * *
Tbe young heir of the Romanofi's grew into
boyhood, a beautiful, brave child — impetuous,
haughty, and lovable. The heart of the Czar
seemed centred in him alone, whilst his mother
scarcely seemed to heed his presence, and yet
he would have loved her well. Di<l she resent
the overweaning love of the father for his child,
in which she seemed to have no part 1 No one
knew, but year by year tbe stately, cold woman
seemed to clothe herself more and more with the
mantle of snow of her adopted country, until