CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE TRAGI-COMEDY AT GRUSINO

The double wedding was to be celebrated. The whole of the tenantry had been commanded to attend. The courtyard of the castle had been thronged with wondering serfs from early dawn. Two couples--one handsome, the other loathsome--were to be married that day.

The preparations were on a magnificent scale. For three whole days the castle cooks had been engaged in making the national dishes. Long floral walks had been erected in the courtyard; the gateway had been converted into a triumphal arch by means of wreaths and colored transparencies. In the centre of the great courtyard was a stage erected, covered with gay-hued carpets of goat's hair. Upon it stood a table bearing an image of the Virgin Mary, the covered plate in which were the wedding-rings, a goblet, bread and salt--in fine, everything required for the ceremony preceding the marriage service. For there is much to be gone through before a bridal couple reaches the church portion of the ceremony--much to be gone through at the hands of the bystanders, the groomsmen, bridesmaids, and wedding-mother.

The wedding-mother has an important part to play. Until they arrive at the church doors she is the principal personage.

Daimona is the wedding-mother in this instance. She is marrying one of her serfs to her slave; she is mother to both. The high-backed chair upon the tribune is for her. At first sound of the bells the ceremony begins. From the priest's house the bridesmaids bring the bride in her bridal array. Diabolka's dress glistens with heavy gold embroidery; a costly girdle encircles her slender waist, on her neck hangs a fivefold necklace of gold coins; her head-dress is of precious stones. One might think she was a princess. From the opposite side resounds a horn, and the bridegroom, Schinko, is seen advancing with his supporters and groomsmen; his coal-black, curly hair, falling on to his shoulders, betraying, despite the national costume, the bridegroom's Indian descent.

The groomsmen welcome the approaching bride with song, and follow the bridal pair to the altar. From out the stables the second couple are now brought. Wild screeches and the squeak of the bagpipe accompany them in their progress. The pomp of wedding garments only serves to make them more ridiculous. They are received with mocking rhymes, which seem to please them highly. Both are very drunk; they kiss every one who comes in their way; but as they near each other they cut hideous grimaces at one another; and as they go up to the altar steps the bride gives the bridegroom a good pinch on the arm, while the bridegroom deals her out a smart kick with his foot.

This couple is also placed at the table, so that bridegrooms and brides stand one at each corner.

At the second peal of bells the wedding-mother descends with her whole retinue from the castle. The retinue is composed of twelve female slaves, clad in white, who line the steps on either side. The wedding-mother mounts the tribune alone, and takes her seat upon the throne.

She is dressed like a queen, and wears a purple mantle; her cap of marten-skin is embroidered with gold and pearls; her face painted white and red. She begins the ceremony.

"Schinko, what do you bring the bride for your wedding present?"

And Schinko details what he brings her:

"Two gay-colored beds, a cloak of Karassia cloth lined with fox, a breastplate with silver buttons, a kokosnik set with pearls, two pair of red boots, an embroidered linen shirt, twelve zinc plates, a dish, and a gold-embroidered head-dress and veil--if she behaves well!"

All these gifts were brought round by the bridegroom's supporters, and severally shown to the guests.

The bride, on her side, gives the bridegroom clothes, ornaments, household utensils, and, last, a bundle of birch rods, "with which he is to chastise me when I do not behave well."

Now it is the turn of the second couple.

"Well, Polyka, and what do you bring your bridegroom?"

But this well-assorted couple are not content that one should speak before the other; one interrupts the other, and they splutter out:

"I, a ragged cloak."

"I, a pot with a hole in it."

"I, a footless stocking in which ten cats could not catch one mouse."

"I, an empty jug that once had brandy in it."

"I, a bed sacking, with no blankets, and that lacks feathers."

The wedding guests laughed themselves ill over this dialogue of the bridal couple.

"And then twelve pair of 'dubina'!" shouted the bridegroom, with a loud laugh.

"With two ends to them," returned the bride, with a giggle.

The word "dubina," so soft-sounding in Russian, signifies in the barbaric English tongue--stick! The sack has found a mouth, the vinegar jar a stopper, and he his match, grinned the wedding guests.

"Now exchange rings," says Daimona to the couples. "They are in this covered plate. Those of the one couple are of gold and silver; the gold one is the bride's; the silver, the bridegroom's. The rings of the second couple are of copper and lead."

The wedding-mother, removing the silken cover from the plate, signed to Diabolka to set the example.

Diabolka, taking the gold and silver ring, placed the gold one on her own finger, and was handing the silver one to Schinko.

Daimona seized Diabolka's hand.

"Not so! You will give the silver ring to Vuk; and Schinko the copper one to Polyka. _For your bridegroom is Vuk, and Schinko's bride is Polyka._ That is the arrangement."

A burst of loud laughter followed upon these words. Now there would be some real fun. Diabolka and Vuk, Polyka and Schinko. The wedding-mother had the right to marry her serfs as she chose. Her serfs belonged to her, hand and foot, as did her horses and her asses. She can pair her serfs as she chooses.

The laughter of the assembled guests grew louder as the two drunken monsters, at Daimona's words, threw themselves on the handsome prey given over to them.

Their laughter was only stopped when Diabolka, before them all, gave Vuk such a blow on the chest with both hands that he went backwards off the table, and, rolling from the tribune, fell among the people.

Things were indeed going badly.

Daimona, springing towards the table like a fury, struck her fist violently upon it. At that sound the spectators' laughter suddenly ceased. The grin was still on their faces, but every sound died away on their laughing lips.

It was fun no longer.

"You will not take the husband I have chosen for you?" shrieked Daimona, in fury.

"No," returned the girl, stamping her foot, "no!"

"Dog! gypsy devil! You dare to oppose me--me, who raised you from a dung-heap!"

"Then let me go back to the dung-heap."

"So you shall! If you will not have the bridegroom I have given you, then take off the bridal dress I gave you, and be off in the gypsy rags you came in. But they want something to complete them--the addition of a thrashing for your audacity. Schinko! Here!"

He himself, her elder brother, her lover, her bridegroom!

Schinko was wearing, as bridegroom, the symbol of his office hanging from his girdle--the short-handled whip. At his mistress's command he raised the whip.

"Strike!" ordered Daimona.

The girl, white with fear, held her face between her hands.

"Brother, can you strike me?"

She had even got so far as to fear the lash. Or was it the thought that it was Schinko's hand which was to strike that made her shrink back? The gypsy's heart was not hard enough to let him strike the blow. He threw the whip away.

"Dog, pick up that whip; or shall I have you and her tied together to the tail of a wild horse? Go on. Slash away until I say enough; fifty lashes for me, fifty for Junker Jevgen."

Schinko picked up the whip.

Despairing, the girl, flinging herself at Daimona's feet, clasped her knees, and, sobbing, implored for mercy.

"Ah, you abomination, that's the place for you!" cried Daimona through her clinched teeth; and seizing the girl at her feet by her long plaits, she shrieked to Schinko, "Now, have at her!"

With one spring the gypsy, like a panther, was upon them, and, seizing Daimona by the throat with his left hand, with his right he whipped out his dagger. Terrified, Daimona released her hold of Diabolka and defended herself with one arm; the serf's dagger had pierced her shoulder, the blood spouted high from it.

"Heh! varlets! seize him! help!" stormed the woman.

But not a person stirred among the crowd. Daimona saw that she was left to herself. She was a powerful woman who knew how to fight; so, freeing herself from the gypsy's grasp, she pushed him from her, sprang off the tribune, and rushed towards the castle steps, Schinko after her.

Nor did a hand stir to hinder the serf. The crowd, the whole body of servants, looked on, and saw Schinko dash after the mistress and wound her afresh. The woman, turning upon him, began to wrestle with her pursuer; his dagger was plunged again and again into her breast. Once more she succeeded in pushing back her adversary, and, darting into the midst of her women servants, shouted, "Help! protect me!" The women put their hands to their ears that they might not hear her cries. They all hated her. Then she was seen flying down the long corridor, screaming and shrieking, her murderer close upon her heels. Still no one went to the rescue.

At the extreme end of the corridor was the picture of a saint. Thither she fled, and fell down before it in beseeching attitude. But the saint did not stir a hand to protect her. Then rushing to the parapet of the balcony, she attempted in vain to spring from it.

The murderer slowly comes down the stone steps into the courtyard. A path is made for him. He ascends the bridal tribune. There, her face to the ground, lies a girl motionless with terror, shame, and despair. Close to her the wedding garments. The murderer wipes the blood off his dagger with the bridal veil, and, taking the girl by the hand, raises her to her feet. They look each other in the eyes. One look, like a couple of wild wolves. No need for speech! Then they run, hand in hand, into the steppe, into the woods--anywhere. No one seeks to hold them back. They were never seen again.

Who would attempt to find two wolves escaped from captivity, in their native lair, amid the dwellers of the endless steppes, whether in forest or jungle? Only once did the two call a halt, where Diabolka, having reached her gypsy encampment, wrote the letter to Jakuskin, in which she related the tragi-comedy of Grusino, and of which a copy fell into the hands of the Czar's favorite, acquainting him with the horrors that had taken place. The starosts of Grusino had not had the courage to give him the tidings.

Zeneida acted wisely in having personally related the events to the Czar; for those who later informed him of what had occurred at Grusino made a point of causing it to appear that this murder was in connection with St. Petersburg secret societies. Many were set upon finding the motive for the deed in high circles, where it was a matter of interest to keep the favorite from the person of the Czar, and where it was hoped, by the banishment of the son, to have effected a rupture of the close bond uniting Czar and favorite. Schinko and Diabolka were hired by the conspirators.

Was there any truth in this? No one has ever cleared up the mystery. But if any hand had prepared the blow, it had struck home.

Araktseieff was to be seen tearing through the streets of St. Petersburg, hatless, with hair wildly streaming. Your orthodox Russian, when he mourns, goes in sun and snow with head uncovered.

On the day of his flight two great wagon-loads of state papers were despatched from the favorite's palace to the Hermitage. His orders, his sword, his keys of office, he sent by his house-porter to the Lord Chamberlain. And, at the moment of his departure, the thunder of "Holy Christopher" startled the inhabitants of St. Petersburg out of their rest. This father among cannons is only fired when a general dies. The court favorite had himself gone to the commandant of the fortress and ordered the cannon to be fired. The commandant had no choice but to obey. Araktseieff was commander-in-chief of the artillery. When the firing was over the commandant asked:

"What was the name of the deceased general?"

"Alexis Andreovitch Araktseieff!"

Some days later the Czar had terrible news of Araktseieff. His reason had entirely left him.