The slave who waited on Gerald, told him that he had orders from the Czar to take him to any part of the palace and grounds he might wish to see. He was told also, that if he would like to see the city, and the public buildings, he should have an escort from the Emperor’s own guards.
Our hero gladly availed himself of these offers, and thus spent several days very pleasantly. He previously, however, complied with the Czar’s request regarding the particulars of his early life.
It was but little that he knew of the matter; but that little he stated with great clearness, both as respected time and place. Nor did he fail to avail himself of the license given him by the Czar to send to his friends. He wrote a brief account of all that had passed since his removal, and cheered them with hopes of ere long seeing them again under happier circumstances than when they had parted last.
Gerald had been at the palace about a week, when he received a message from the Emperor, bidding him prepare himself for an interview with a lady who, he said, had taken a great interest in his story. The officer who delivered the message further informed him that the lady, whose name was Madame Koski, was the widow of a Polish noble who had been personally attached to the Czar; and that having lost her property in Poland, she was now living on a pension which was allowed her by the Emperor.
Our hero listened to these particulars with great eagerness; for he could not help thinking that this lady was in some way connected with his family, and that her interest for him was owing to that circumstance.
‘It is possible,’ he said to himself, ‘that I am of Polish origin:’ his cheek grew flushed and his eye kindled at the thought. He had occasionally heard portions of the history of that brave and interesting people; and from some cause which he could not quite account for himself, he felt deeply concerned in all that related to them. The Emperor of Russia and the renowned King of Sweden, Charles XII., had long been contending for power over the Poles; and the principal question relating to that unhappy country seemed to be, which of the two should be their master.
At one time the Czar gained the ascendancy for the King of Poland, Frederick Augustus, who was also Elector of Saxony, was his friend and ally. Again Charles XII. became the superior in power, and Frederick Augustus was then obliged to abdicate the throne of Poland and retire to Saxony, and Stanislaus Leczinski was chosen in his room—a measure which gave no satisfaction to the declining nation.
Gerald awaited the arrival of Madame Koski with intense anxiety. At length the door of the apartment was slowly opened, and a lady dressed in the Polish fashion appeared, leaning on the arm of a female domestic. She glanced hurriedly at Gerald, who immediately rose and bowed. She then motioned with her hand for the attendant to withdraw, and entered the room alone.
Madame Koski was still in the meridian of life; but ill-health and deep grief had whitened her hair and left such marks upon her countenance that she had the appearance of being rather advanced in years. She entered the room with a trembling step, and sunk into the seat which Gerald politely offered her.
‘Your name,’ she said with great effort, looking very earnestly in his face.
‘My name, Madame, is Gerald,’ he replied; ‘but I am called Gerald Kopt, from one Michael Kopt, who has been to me as a father.’
As the youth spoke, the lady became still more agitated. ‘It must be so—I cannot be deceived,’ she murmured; ‘that brow—those eyes—the voice—so like my own, own Gerald—you are—you must be my child.’ Here she threw her arms round the boy’s neck, and burst into a flood of tears.
‘Did I hear aright? Did you say you are my mother?’ exclaimed Gerald, disengaging himself a little from her embrace, that he might look up in her countenance to read her answer even before her tongue could speak it.
‘I am,’ she answered in a calmer tone; ‘I lost an infant on the coast of Russia at the very time stated in your document; and my heart tells me you must be he.’
‘This is happiness beyond anything I could have expected,’ cried Gerald, warmly returning her embrace. ‘I never hoped to find a mother living.’
‘And I never hoped to find my long-lost child,’ replied the lady; ‘but God is good, and his ways are wonderful.’
‘God has indeed been good to me, my mother,’ Gerald responded, now twining his arm fondly round her neck; ‘he provided me with friends who have been as parents to me, and he has by a wonderful providence, brought me here. But tell me dear lady—dear mother,’ he added, his countenance lighting up with great animation—‘tell me; is it true that I am by birth a Pole?’
‘You are,’ Madame Koski replied; ‘your father was a Pole of noble birth.’
‘I have learned to call those great and noble who perform great and noble actions, dear lady,’ cried Gerald. ‘But I do rejoice in hearing that I belong to that brave and patriotic land.’
‘Ours is a fallen country,’ said the lady despondingly. ‘As for myself,’ she added, ‘I am obliged to live on the bounty of the man who is desirous of holding my country in a state of thraldom; but the circumstances which led to it are these:—Your father and the Czar met in early youth; and your father had then an opportunity of rendering the Emperor an essential service, which was repaid by an act of equal generosity. Thus they were bound together by ties of gratitude.’
‘Ah! and the ties of gratitude are strong,’ Gerald warmly interposed.
‘They are, my son,’ said the lady. ‘Many years after, when Peter of Russia and Charles of Sweden first contended for mastery over our fallen country, your father and the Czar met once more. Your father was then a prisoner in Peter’s camp, and I and my three children were without a home. Under these circumstances, the Czar contrived to get our children on board one of his ships, which was then about to sail up the Baltic. I purposed joining them; but an accident preventing, the ship set sail without me; and the children were only under the care of a female slave who was their nurse. The next tidings I heard was, that the vessel had been wrecked, and that every one on board had perished.’
Madame Koski wept as she related these particulars; nor could Gerald listen to them without shedding tears also. ‘Then what became of my father?’ he asked, with breathless interest.
‘The Czar generously gave him his liberty. Your father,’ she continued, ‘was one of those patriots who did not take part with either the Swedes or the Russians; but who nobly stood out for Polish independence and the right of electing a king for ourselves. This being the case, he fared ill when Charles of Sweden got the mastery; and he would have done the same when Peter of Russia had the supreme power, but for the private friendship which I told you existed between him and the Czar. He fell at last, however,’ and as she ceased, the lady buried her face in her hands and wept afresh.
‘He fell in the defence of his country,’ asked Gerald.
‘He did, dear boy.’
‘I have told the Czar that I am desirous of pursuing a studious life, and he has offered to place me in the University he has recently founded in this city. But your tale, dear mother,’ added Gerald, ‘has stirred feelings within me, which I scarcely knew that I possessed. Surely it would be ignoble for me to live at ease in an enemy’s land, when my own requires my services.’
‘I should have thought as you do, at one time, my son,’ replied the lady; ‘but now I view the matter otherwise. Though there are many gallant spirits still in Poland, the power of our conquerors is too great for us. Nothing can be done for our unhappy country now, her freedom is entirely lost.’