and for the sake of our national honour, but we could only promise
ourselves a successful issue if all the continental great Powers join
hands in this momentous undertaking."

Although the fact of an offensive and defensive alliance with France in
view of a war with England could not have been unknown to the majority
of the assembled company, yet the reading of this despatch, which
was followed with breathless attention, evidently produced a deep
impression. Its publication left no room for doubt that this war
had been resolved on in the highest quarters, and although no loud
manifestation of applause followed its reading, the illustrious
assemblage now breathed freely, and almost all faces wore an expression
of joyous satisfaction.

Only one man, with knitted brows, regarded the scene with serious
disapproval. For decades past he had been regarded as the most
influential man in Russia--as a power, in fact, who had constantly
thwarted the plans of the leading statesmen and had carried his opinions
through with unswerving energy.

This solitary malcontent was Pobiedonostsev, the Chief Procurator of the
Holy Synod, who, despite his grey hairs, was detested only less than he
was feared.

His gloomy mien and his shake of the head had not escaped the presiding
Grand Duke, and the latter evidently considered it to be his duty to
give this man who had enjoyed the confidence of three successive Tsars
an opportunity of recording his divergent opinion.

At his summons the Chief Procurator arose, and, amid complete silence,