back. The poor fellow, however, uttered a loud scream, and the executioner counted aloud,-" One."

At this sound the young officer started, and looked up at the window. Still all was as before ;-then turning towards the executioner, mechanically repeated after him-" One.”

The knout had traced a triple blueish red line on Gregory's back.

Ivan placed himself in his former posture, again hissing the serpent lash, again enveloped the culprit's prostrate body,-but, as before, the cutting point struck the plank. Gregory's cry was still more agonizing, Ivan counted-"Two."

With this blow, the blood did not flow, but it was ready to start. At the third cut, some drops, oozed out of the scarlet ridges of flesh; at the fourth, more issued out; at the fifth, the sanguine drops spirted freely out, and some of them sprinkled in the aide-de-camp's face, who retreated, and with disgust wiped them off with his handkerchief, as he once more looked towards the countess' window. Ivan watched this opportunity, and lustily called out-Seven," thus stealing two lashes, and what was better, having passed the point of six, at which a new thong should have been put on. The officer ceased repeating the number, and appeared finally tired of the disgusting scene. At the ninth cut, Ivan boldly counted ten, and determined, as the captain no longer paid any attention to his conduct, that the next blow should count twelve, the stipulated quantum of punishment. Before he could do so, a window opened in another angle of the building, and a man in the prime of fifty presented himself, in a general's uniform. He merely said in a voice of command,-" Enough!"-and closed the window.

During this apparition, the aide-de-camp remained in an attitude of military salute, with his hand to his hat; but the instant the window was shut, turned to Ivan, and repeated-"Enough!" The blow about to fall was willingly suspended, and the prisoner joyfully released.

"Thank his high excellency, Gregory," said Ivan, as he carefully rolled the lash round the handle of the knout; for he has shown you great mercy, I'm sure. Come, my lads, make haste to help Gregory up, I know he is smarting."

Gregory was not, however, in a condition to thank any one, had he been so inclined; he was sick at heart, and fainting. Two moujiks (inferior servants) supported him on either side, and led him towards the servants' quarter. When near the door, he stopped, and faintly speaking to the officer: "Captain Fodor, be pleased to thank his high excellency the general, for his mercy, in my name;" adding, in a still lower tone of voice,—“ I will undertake to thank his daughter myself."

"What is that you murmur, rascal?" angrily exclaimed the captain, who thought Gregory's words implied some menace.

"Nothing, your nobility; nothing," quickly rejoined Ivan.

"The

poor lad thanks you for the trouble you have taken in witnessing his punishment; he says it is a great honour to him, that's all, captain."

"Very well but if Gregory does not wish the same honours conferred again upon him shortly, advise him not to drink so much brandy; or when he is drunk, to speak more respectfully of Count Tchermayloff's daughter You understand me."

Ivan bowed to the ground in profound submission to orders, Fodor entered the house by the vestibule, and the crowd dispersed, exceedingly ill satisfied with Ivan's arithmetic, and the general's leniency.

General Count Tchermayloff was early left a widower with one daughter, —his only child, who inherited her mother's fortune, beauty, and pride, as being descended from a race of Tartar princes, who existed before Russia was an empire, and who, in the twelfth century, overran it as conquerors.

Alexandrina, having been educated without a mother's eye to guide her actions, the idol of a fond father, the mistress of all beneath her, and the heir of haughty lineage, confirmed by Russian aristocracy, thought all mankind beneath her if their families were not noble. She would have cared as little to sacrifice the life of a moujik, as that of any other bearded animal ; indeed, she valued her dogs and horses more than her slaves, whose passive obedience to their, tyrannical owners often rendered them the authors of their own misery. In worldly gifts, Alexandrina was rich; in mental acquirements, superior to most other ladies of high rank. She was an excellent musician, and spoke equally the French, Italian, English, and German languages, constantly taught in high families of Russia, and generally spoken with a degree of purity certainly unrivalled by any other nation, if we except the Spanish, with whom a great facility of language is equally to be admired. It is very difficult to describe female beauty, there are so many lovely shades of it; but Alexandrina may be described as a remarkably fine young woman, -not one of those whose delicate traits betrayed the softness and gentleness of her sex, but one who knew herself to be handsome, and assumed the station that knowledge and high birth gave her, to command; with her superiors and equals she acted as a woman, but with every one her inferior, as a goddess. But her father and herself were great favourites with the Emperor Paul, who upon every possible occasion showered honour and wealth upon them; but by their other friends, Alexandrina was viewed with dread rather than affection, so haughty was her demeanour. Except her father, no human being appeared to possess the slightest interest in her heart.

,

Alexandrina was eighteen. Her father had resigned his distant government in order to be constantly near the person of the emperor, to give his daughter all the advantages of the education and the society of St. Petersburg, as also to have the best opportunity of selecting the most eligible alliance for her, under the emperor's commands, whenever he might see fit to give them; as these things were then managed in Russia, without its being at all thought necessary that the lady or the gentleman should be consulted on such a trifling subject as that of marriage. The king wills it !-that was sufficient If the union proved happy, so much the better; but if not, it was of no consequence. Neither party looked for the one, or cared for the other. They were wedded by imperial decree. But no emperor could command affection in hearts very often diametrically opposed to each other in every sentiment that renders marriage the charm of life.

letter from the death-bed of a

About this period, the general received friend of his infancy. Exiled to his estates in consequence of some offence given to Prince Potemkin, the Count Romayloff was cut of in the career of his fortune and not having been able to regain his lost interest at court, died of a broken heart four hundred leagues from St. Petersburg, leaving an only son penniless. This young man, Fodor, he bequeathed to the care of his only friend the general; solemnly adjuring him, by the ties of their early friendship, toact a parent's part towards his son; and from the favour the count enjoyed with the emperor, to obtain a sub-lieutenancy for him in the army. This was done, and Fodor commenced his military life in the regiment of Semonowski, long distinguished for its gallantry, and the favour of Paul. Being now to a certain extent domiciliated in the general's house, he occasionally met the Countess Alexandrina as he went to the barracks, Situate in the Quarter Litenoi. It was impossible for him to see her without eeling admiration, and being a young man whose heart was filled with primitive generous passions, the gratitude he felt towards his noble patron, by whose kindness a brilliant career was opened to his ambition, everything belonging to him seemed to have claims upon his heart. Alexandrina had been introduced to him as a sister; but without any of the feelings attached to that title, she received him with all the distant ceremonious pride of a queen. Notwithstanding the frozen reception, Fodor, from the first moment of seeing her, internally vowed to devote his life to her service. An unknown sentiment had sprung up in his breast, he thought it gratitude, and hourly cherished its growth.

Alexandrina scarcely condescended to notice Foedor; and beyond his being the avowed protégé of her father, he was nothing but a sub-lieutenant, without any other fortune than his sword.

A few days after Fodor's appointment in the regiment of Semonowski he presented himself to take leave of the count, being under immediate orders for Italy, in the division of the army commanded by Field-marshal Suvarow, in that memorable campaign. Fodor quitted in the firm determination of meeting death, or of rendering himself worthy of the patronage of his father's earliest friend, who was now a second father to him.

On paying his adieus to Alexandrina, the beauty of his person, the exaltation of his hopes, the enthusiasm of his feelings, heightened by the elegance of his uniform, seemed to make an unusual impression on her. When at her father's command she extended her hand and wished him health and honour, Fodor received it kneeling, and gently touched it with his lips, his face suffused with scarlet blushes. It was quickly withdrawn; but Fodor imagined,—could it be more than a dream, that a slight pressure indicated more interest in the parting than common-place politeness. Stimulated by this feeling, he quitted St. Petersburg. An honourable grave, far from it,-or a glorious return to it, being his fixed determination.

The army to which this young officer was attached, traversed Germany debouched into Italy by the mountains of the Tyrol, and entered Vienna, on the 14th April, 1799. Suvarow formed a junction with General Melas, and took the command of the whole of the corps d'armée. The following day General Chasteler proposed his making a reconnoissance; but Suvarow, looking at him with astonishment, replied in these remarkable words: “I know no other way of discovering the enemies' strength, but that of making against them, and beating them."

In fact, Suvarow, habituated to rapid movements, could not brook the old-fashioned tactics of war. He had vanquished the Turks at Folschany, and at Ismaïloff; he had conquered Poland, after a few days' campaign; and he had taken Prague, in less than four hours. To reward these feats of arms, the Empress Catherine sent him a golden wreath, studded with precious stones in the form of oak and laurel leaves, of the value of ten thousand roubles; a massive gold baton of field-marshal, enriched with diamonds of immense value; and assigned to him a rich domain, including eight thousand serfs inhabiting it. What an example for Fodor! Suvarow was no more than a Russian officer's son, brought up in the school of cadets, and commenced his glorious career like himself, as a sub-lieutenant of cavalry. Why might there not be two Suvarows in the same century ?

Suvarow arrived in Italy, preceded by a brilliant reputation; he was a religious-indefatigable-ardent-courageous man, living with the simplicity of a Tartar, and fighting with the vivacity of the Cossack; a lamb in peacea lion in war. He was exactly the man required to continue the success of

THE KNOUT:

General Melas, whose soldiers were discouraged by his prudential delays, and the want of military promptness displayed by General Sherer, the second in command. Moreover, the Austro-Russian army greatly outnumbered the troops of the Republic. As it is not our present purpose to give a detailed account of the campaign, it may be sufficient to add, that after a severe contest, Suvarow finally beat General Moreau, took General Beker prisoner' and entered Milan a conqueror, on the 28th April. At night, while supping with his staff officers and General Beker, Suvarow inquired by whom he had been taken prisoner. The general answered, by a young officer of the first regiment that entered Pozzo. On further inquiry, it was found that this was Semenowski's regiment. The field marshall instantly desired the attendance of the officers of that regiment, among whom Fodor Romayloff was pointed out by General Beker as the person by whom he was captured, and who refused to take his sword, saying no man of honour would use it, after giving his parole to the contrary. Suvarow detained Fodor to supper, and making many inquiries respecting his family and prospects, stated that his gallant and modest conduct should not pass unnoticed. The next day Fœdor wrote to Count Tchermayloff, that the field-marshall Suvarow had given him a company, and also had asked the emperor to confer upon him the order of St. Vladimir.

Fodor, after receiving several wounds, during the series of battles that succeeded the above-mentioned period, at length obtained some repose. An army originally eighty thousand strong, was now reduced to less than thirty thousand. Suvarow, furious at being beaten by Massena and the republicans, whose extermination he had announced, attached the whole blame to the Austrian allies, and wrote to St. Petersburg for further orders. Paul's reply ordered the return of the army to Russia, and that Suvarow should precede it, with every convenient haste. Notwithstanding this reverse, a splendid triumph awaited his arrival. An ukase was promulgated, stating that the field-marshal was to be henceforth lodged for life in the imperial palace, and a statue raised to him on one of the public squares of St. Petersburg. Suvarow, who had taken a great liking to Fedor, from the invincible courage his conduct exhibited, attached him as an extra aide-de-camp to his staff, and desired his attendance in that capacity to St. Petersburg.

Fodor well merited these honours. Everywhere danger presented itself, he was the first to brave it, either in the plains of Italy, the rocky gorges of the Tyrol, or the icy mountains of Pragel. He did then return worthy of his noble protector's interests; and perhaps, no longer disdained by one for whose smile he would again and again woo honour at the cannon's mouth So fickle, however, is the favour of princes, that to the horror of Suvarow, on