"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.
As she now glanced at these sanguinary pictures, a pleasant smile
drew over the face of this Northern Semiramis. She had just come to a
decision, and, being content with it, expressed her satisfaction by a
smile.
"That bleeding feminine torso," said she, pointing to one of the
pictures, "look at it, Gregory, that wonderful feminine back reminds me
of the vengeance Elizabeth took for the beauty of Eleonore Lapuschkin.
Well, Elizabeth's pretended daughter shall find me teachable; I will
learn from her mother how to punish.
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