and at which the only members of the council present were Troubetskoi, Zakharine, Biélski, Chtchelkalov, and Frolov—and even these were sent off to the other end of the room, 'close to the stove'—was not any more satisfactory. Meanwhile Ivan had heard, through James Roberts, who probably interpreted at all these meetings, that Bowes was desirous of seeing him quite alone. The envoy denied the fact. All he had said was that when he had been on other missions, to the King of France and other Sovereigns, he had never been expected to deal with a third party with regard to important negotiations.
'The Court of France is no rule for ours,' grumbled Ivan. 'Tell me what thou hast to say about our marriage.'
'I know from the Queen, my mistress, that she desired your friendship above that of all other Sovereigns, and I have on other personal desire, save that of pleasing and serving you.'
'Give me the list of all the nieces of the Queen of whom you speak, with their names and titles. I will send an Ambassador to England with you, and he shall look at them all, and send me their portraits.'
'I offer you my own services for that purpose.'
All this I quote from the Russian version. According to it, Bowes now retracted his former assertions, and denied he had ever been heard to mention any other female relatives of Elizabeth's whom the Tsar might have preferred to Mary Hastings. When he stood convicted as a liar, he once more took refuge behind his instructions, or gave it to be understood, with a mysterious air, that he would shortly be in a position to give the monarch satisfaction, 'but his time was not yet come.' He asked leave to send a courier overland to England to bring him back fuller powers; raised trivial questions about the quantity and quality of the supplies sent him, demanding as much as 10 pouds (320 pounds) of butter a day; requested the Tsar to administer severe chastisement, manu propriâ, to Chtchelkalov, whom the envoy held responsible for the grievances of which he complained, but got nothing for his pains except a discourse from the Sovereign, under five heads, which wound up in the following fashion: 'You are an ignorant man, and you have no idea of how an envoy ought to behave!'
After that one would have fancied there was no more to be said. But Ivan was too much set on his own idea. With the obstinacy of a lunatic, he strove to lay his hand on the dream which perpetually eluded his grasp. He summoned Bowes to more private interviews, and over and over again he repeated his same monotonous argument: 'Thou hast told us of a score or two of young girls of thy country amongst
