e Lemesh inn and carried off the simple peasant woman, her youngest
son, Cyril, and one of her daughters, to the open-mouthed amazement of
the villagers. At the entrance to the capital she was received by a
magnificently attired gentleman, in whom she failed to recognise her son
Alexis, until he showed her a birthmark on his body.

Picture now the peasant-woman sumptuously lodged in the Moscow palace,
decked in all the finery of silks and laces and jewels, receiving the
respectful homage of high Court officials, caressed and petted by an
Empress, while her splendid son looks smilingly on, as proud of his
cottage-mother as if she were a Princess of the Blood Royal. That the
innkeeper was not happy in her gilded cage, that her thoughts often
wandered longingly to her cronies and the simple life of the village, is
not to be wondered at.

It was all very well for such a fine gentleman as her son, Alexis; but
for a poor, simple-minded woman like herself--well, she was too old for
such a transplanting. And we can imagine her relief when, on the removal
of the Court to St Petersburg, she was allowed to bring her visit to an
end and to return to her inn with wonderful stories of all she had seen.
Her son and daughter, however, elected to remain. As for Cyril, a
handsome youth, almost young enough to be his brother's son, he was
quick to win his way into the favour of the Empress. Before he had been
many months at Court he was made a Count and Gentleman of the
Bedchamber. He was given for bride a grand-niece of Elizabeth; and at
twenty-two he was Viceroy of the Ukraine, virtual sovereign of a kingdom
of his own, with his peasant-mother, who declined to share his palace,
comfortably installed in a modest house near his gates.

Cyril, in fact, was to his last day as unspoiled by his unaccustomed
grandeur as his brother Alexis. Each was ready at any moment to turn
from the obsequious homage of nobles to hobnob with a peasant friend or
relative. How utterly devoid of false pride Alexis was is proved by the
following anecdote. One day when, in company with the Empress, he was
paying a visit to Count Loewenwolde, he rushed from Elizabeth's side to
fling his arms round the neck of one of his host's footmen. "Are you
mad, Alexis?" exclaimed the Empress, in her astonishment. "What do you
mean by such senseless behaviour?" "I am not mad at all," answered the
favourite. "He is an old friend of mine."

But although no man ever deposed th