y active in thwarting the plans of the tzar. Peter took no pains
to conceal his intentions, and gloried in proclaiming the illegitimacy
of Paul, the son of the empress. Loathsome as his own life was, he
seemed to think that his denunciations of Catharine, whose purity he
had insulted and whose heart he had crushed, would secure for him the
moral support of his subjects and of Europe. But he was mistaken. The
sinning Catharine was an angel of purity compared with the beastly
Peter.

It was necessary for Peter to move with caution, for Catharine had
ability, energy, innumerable friends, and was one of the last women in
the world quietly to submit to be plunged into a dungeon, and then to
be led to the scaffold, and by such a man as her despicable spouse.
Peter III. was by no means a match for Catharine. About twelve miles
from St. Petersburg, on the southern shore of the Bay of Cronstadt,
and nearly opposite the renowned fortresses of Cronstadt which command
the approaches to St. Petersburg, was the imperial summer palace of
Peterhof, which for some time had been the favorite residence of
Catharine. A few miles further down the bay, which runs east and west,
was the palace of Oranienbaum, in the decoration of which many
succeeding monarchs had lavished large sums. This was Peter's
favorite resort, and its halls ever echoed with the carousings of the
prince and his boon companions. Every year, on the 8th of July, there
is a grand festival at Peterhof in honor of Peter and Paul, the patron
saints of the imperial house. This was the time fixed upon by
Catharine and her friends for the accomplishment of their plans. The
tzar, on the evening of the 8th of July, was at Oranienbaum,
surrounded by a bevy of the most beautiful females of his court.
Catharine was at Peterhof. It was a warm summer's night, and the queen
lodged in a small _cottage orne_ called Montplaisir, which was
situated in the garden. They had not intended to carry their plot into
execution that night, but an alarm precipitated their action. At two
o'clock in the morning Catharine was awoke from a sound sleep, by some
one of her friends entering her room, exclaiming,

"Your majesty has not a moment to lose. Rise and follow me!"

Catharine, alarmed, called her confidential attendant, dressed
hurriedly in disguise, and entered a carriage which was waiting for
her at the garden gate. The horses were goaded to their utmost speed
on the road to St. Petersburg, and