Conclusion

She was satisfied, the great, the sublime empress--satisfied with the
work Alexis Orloff had accomplished, and with the manner in which it was
done.

In the presence of her confidential friends she permitted Orloff's
messenger, Joseph Ribas, to relate to her all the particulars of the
affair from the commencement to the end, and to the narrator she nodded
her approval with a fell smile.

"Yes," said she to Gregory Orloff, "we understand women's hearts, and
therefore sent Alexis to entrap her. A handsome man is the best jailer
for a woman, from whom she never runs away." And bending nearer to
Gregory's ear, she whispered: "I, myself, your empress, am almost your
prisoner, you wicked, handsome man!"

And ravished by the beauty of Gregory Orloff, the third in the ranks of
her recognized favorites, the empress leaned upon his arm, whispering
words of tenderness in his ear.

"And what does your sublime majesty decide upon respecting the
prisoner?" humbly asked Joseph Ribas.

"Oh, I had almost forgotten her," said the empress, with indifference.
"She is, then, yet living, this so-called daughter of Elizabeth?"

"She is yet alive."

The empress for some time thoughtfully walked back and forth,
occasionally turning her bold eagle eye upon her two favorite pictures,
hanging upon the wall. They were battle-pieces full of terrible truth;
they displayed the running blood, the trembling flesh, the rage of
opponents, and the death-groans of the defeated. Such were the pictures
loved by Catharine, and the sight of which always inspired her with bold
thoughts.