Michael Strogoff

Michael Strogoff

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Michael Strogoff, by Jules Verne #10
in our series by Jules Verne
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
Please take a look at the important information in this header.
We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.
This etext was prepared by Judy Boss, Omaha, NE
Michael Strogoff
or
The Courier of the Czar
by Jules Verne
Michael Strogoff
BOOK I

CHAPTER I
A FETE AT THE NEW PALACE

"SIRE, a fresh dispatch."
"Whence?"
"From Tomsk?"
"Is the wire cut beyond that city?"
"Yes, sire, since yesterday."
"Telegraph hourly to Tomsk, General, and keep me informed of all that
occurs."
"Sire, it shall be done," answered General Kissoff.
These words were exchanged about two hours after midnight, at the
moment when the fete given at the New Palace was at the height of its
splendor.
During the whole evening the bands of the Preobra-jensky and
Paulowsky regiments had played without cessation polkas, mazurkas,
schottisches, and waltzes from among the choicest of their repertoires.
Innumerable couples of dancers whirled through the magnificent
saloons of the palace, which stood at a few paces only from the "old
house of stones"--in former days the scene of so many terrible dramas,
the echoes of whose walls were this night awakened by the gay strains
of the musicians.
The grand-chamberlain of the court, was, besides, well seconded in his
arduous and delicate duties. The grand-dukes and their aides-de-camp,
the chamberlains-in-waiting and other officers of the palace, presided
personally in the arrangement of the dances. The grand duchesses,
covered with diamonds, the ladies-in-waiting in their most exquisite
costumes, set the example to the wives of the military and civil
dignitaries of the ancient "city of white stone." When, therefore, the
signal for the "polonaise" resounded through the saloons, and the guests
of all ranks took part in that measured promenade, which on occasions
of this kind has all the importance of a national dance, the mingled

costumes, the sweeping robes adorned with lace, and uniforms covered
with orders, presented a scene of dazzling splendor, lighted by
hundreds of lusters multiplied tenfold by the numerous mirrors
adorning the walls.
The grand saloon, the finest of all those contained in the New Palace,
formed to this procession of exalted personages and splendidly dressed
women a frame worthy of the magnificence they displayed. The rich
ceiling, with its gilding already softened by the touch of time, appeared
as if glittering with stars. The embroidered drapery of the curtains and
doors, falling in gorgeous folds, assumed rich and varied hues, broken
by the shadows of the heavy masses of damask.
Through the panes of the vast semicircular bay-windows the light, with
which the saloons were filled, shone forth with the brilliancy of a
conflagration, vividly illuminating the gloom in which for some hours
the palace had been shrouded. The attention of those of the guests not
taking part in the dancing was attracted by the contrast. Resting in the
recesses of the windows, they could discern, standing out dimly in the
darkness, the vague outlines of the countless towers, domes, and spires
which adorn the ancient city. Below the sculptured balconies were
visible numerous sentries, pacing silently up and down, their rifles
carried horizontally on the shoulder, and the spikes of their helmets
glittering like flames in the glare of light issuing from the palace. The
steps also of the patrols could be heard beating time on the stones
beneath with even more regularity than the feet of the dancers on the
floor of the saloon. From time to time the watchword was repeated
from post to post, and occasionally the notes of a trumpet, mingling
with the strains of the orchestra, penetrated into their midst. Still farther
down, in front of the facade, dark masses obscured the rays of light
which proceeded from the windows of the New Palace. These were
boats descending the course of a river, whose waters, faintly illumined
by a few lamps, washed the lower portion of the terraces.
The principal personage who has been mentioned, the giver of the fete,
and to whom General Kissoff had been speaking in that tone of respect
with which sovereigns alone are usually addressed, wore the simple

uniform of an officer of chasseurs of the guard. This was not affectation
on his part, but the custom of a man who cared little for dress, his
contrasting strongly with the gorgeous costumes amid which he moved,
encircled by his escort of Georgians, Cossacks, and Circassians--a
brilliant band, splendidly clad in the glittering uniforms of the
Caucasus.
This personage, of lofty stature,