Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

Entering the crush Roger was carried by it inside the tall doorway. There the pressure eased owing to the spaciousness of the long suite of marble-floored reception rooms. Semi-circular archways gave easy access for the streams of people passing from one into another and the whole of the suite was double-tiered, the windows in the upper story lighting the jasper columns and fine pieces of statuary that adorned the walls of the lower. Along the sides of all the rooms there were long tables bearing innumerable dishes and bottles. A good half of the guests stood three deep already guzzling at them, but the supplies appeared inexhaustible, as scores of servants were constantly shoulder­ing their way through the press with big cauldrons of food and silver coolers the size of small bath-tubs packed with bottles of iced wine.

Roger began to wonder how he would ever find Natalia Andreovna in such a multitude, but comforted himself with the thought that she would be somewhere near the Empress, which should help him to locate her when the sovereign arrived. For an hour he wandered about, occasionally running into someone he had met during the past week and pausing to talk to them for a while. Then a sudden hush falling ,upon the throng announced the approach of the Czarina of All the Russias.

The crowd immediately divided, forming a broad lane through the middle of each apartment, and a few minutes later Roger set eyes for the first time on the remarkable woman of whom he had heard so much.

She was much smaller than he had imagined and very fat, but extraordinarily regal-looking. A small crown, scintillating with precious gems and supported by a wreath of gold bay leaves, was set firmly on her grey hair, two curls of which fell from a rather severe coiffure down the front of her left shoulder. Her eyes were bright blue and ex­tremely lively as they surveyed the ranks of her bowing subjects. Her nose was small but high-bridged and wide-nostriled; her mouth was tight-lipped and determined; her rounded chin jutted out despite the fleshiness of her neck.

Any other woman of her height would have been completely dwarfed by Alexis Orlof, on whose arm her hand rested, for the High Admiral was a rugged giant six feet six inches tall. But such was the strength of personality radiated by the plump little Empress that her gigantic escort seemed only a proper adjunct to her.

At first sight, in spite of the grossness of her figure, Roger found it difficult to believe that she was in her sixtieth year, for her cheeks were unlined and she appeared to have the milk and roses complexion of a girl of twenty. But, as she passed near him, he detected a certain brittle hardness about her face, and realised that the whole of it had been so heavily painted as to virtually constitute an enamel. It was only with difficulty that he suppressed a laugh, as the sudden idea came to him that if she tripped and fell her face would suffer the fate of a piece of precious porcelain and break into a hundred pieces.

To his dismay Natalia Andreovna was not among the little galaxy of bejewelled courtiers who made up the entourage of the Empress; so he followed at a distance, hoping that if he kept in her vicinity his lady-love would sooner or later appear to pay her respects to her Imperial mistress.

On reaching the end of the galleries the Empress was led into a huge octagonal ballroom, a large part of which was railed off. Only members of the aristocracy were allowed beyond the rail, and Roger stood by it for a few moments. He had just watched the Empress seat herself under a canopy when he received a sharp rap on the arm with a fan, and turned to see Natalia smiling at him.

"Ah, there you are I" he exclaimed. "I was near fearing that I should miss you altogether in such a multitude. Never before have I seen so great a concourse of people assembled under one roof."

She raised an eyebrow. "Methinks that Versailles can be but a paltry palace, then; or perhaps it is that your King Louis is too close-fisted to entertain with the lavishness becoming to a sovereign. I doubt if Alexis has more than three thousand people here to-night, and that is no great number compared to the eight or ten thousand who attend the masked-balls that the Empress gives in winter at the Peterhof."

"It amazes me to hear that there are ten thousand gentry all to be found in this one city," he replied, as he gave her his arm.

"Oh, they are not all persons of quality," she shrugged. "Merchants, small landowners, professional men, and foreigners staying in the Residence, are all admitted on the production of a card; and cards are obtainable on request from anyone about the court."

"I should have thought that the Empress would have been greatly averse to lending her countenance to such motley assemblies."

"On the contrary. The earth is hers and all that is upon it; and it gives her pleasure to lavish something of its bounties as frequently as occasion offers on all classes of her subjects."

"Why were you not in her train when she made her entrance, just now?" Roger inquired.

Natalia smiled up at him. "Because I am not in attendance on her this evening. I thought you would enjoy our spending it together, so I begged her to excuse me and she readily agreed."

Roger squeezed her hand. "That was sweet of you. I vow I'll derive a thousand times more pleasure from this party than I could otherwise have done."

As they talked they had gradually moved forward to within a few yards of the Empress. No western Court could conceivably have rivalled the semi-oriental magnificence of the costumes of the men grouped about her; yet there was a refreshing lack of restraint about their attitude in her presence. They spoke to her with respect but without servility, and she laughed good-naturedly at the jokes they cracked.

The band had struck up a gavotte, and she was just sending her ladies out to dance, when Natalia Andreovna caught the royal glance. Floating into a graceful curtsey she said: "Katerina Alexeyevna, may I present to your gracious Majesty Rojé Chiristorovitch, Chevalier de Breuc, the young French gentleman of whom I spoke to you; he who escorted me back from Sweden."

Catherine smiled and nodded, upon which Roger stepped forward and made a deep obeisance. As he straightened himself, she' beckoned him to her and gave him her plump hand to kiss; then she held him in conversation for several minutes. She asked him how long it was since he had left Paris, the latest gossip of the French Court, if he was interested in literature and painting, who his favourite authors were, and a dozen other questions; to all of which he gave swift, concise answers, his usual quick inventiveness coming to his aid in cases where he was compelled to make them up.

She appeared much pleased with his prompt replies, as she concluded the interview by saying: " 'Tis common knowledge that I have a great fondness and admiration for the genius of your country, and I count you a true representative of it. 'Tis my wish that you should carry away, a good impression of Russia; so should you find yourself incommoded in any way while-you are here, or lack for money, do not hesitate to apply to me through your Ambassador. Now take that little bag of bones, the Baroness Stroganof, away and dance with her."

Murmuring his thanks, Roger kissed the plump, heavily beringed hand again, and bowed his way back into the crowd. Natalia Andreovna congratulated him on the excellent reception with which he had been favoured, and added with a slight touch of spite: "Katinka does not usually converse with strangers who are of no special importance for so long. Momonof will have to look to his laurels, or he will find him­self supplanted by you."

"God forbid!" laughed Roger. "I take it that Momonof was the tall, - sulky-looking fellow, seated on a tabouret to the Empress's left. He has been the reigning favourite for some time, has he not?"