It may easily be imagined that Mr. Y---- did not wait until the next day to satisfy his curiosity respecting the ladies whose invincible spirit of proselytism had sent them from the banks of the Neva to the shores of the Black Sea, and soon after the departure of his visitor he was on his way to the port. He had no difficulty in finding the lodka; the deck was deserted, but a light shone through one of the skylights. Looking down he saw three phantom-like females standing at a table covered with papers, and reading out of large books. When their prayers were ended they began to chant hymns in a slow measure. The solemn religious harmony, suddenly breaking the deep silence, made so intense an impression on the consul, that twenty years afterwards he still spoke of it with enthusiasm.
Countess Guacher stood with her back towards him, but he had a full view of the faces of the two other ladies. Madame de Krudener was small, delicate, and fair haired; her inspired looks and the gentleness of her countenance bespoke her boundless beneficence of soul. The Princess Gallitzin, on the contrary, had an imposing countenance, the expression of which presented a strange mixture of shrewdness, asceticism, sternness, and raillery. For a long while the pilgrims continued chanting Sclavonic psalms, the mysterious impart of which accorded with the enthusiastic disposition of their souls. Before they had ended, the sound of footsteps on the deck woke Mr. Y---- from his trance of wonder. The new comer was the non-commissioned officer, and Mr. Y---- desired the man to announce him, although he hardly expected to be admitted at so late an hour. His visit was nevertheless accepted, and the ladies received him with as much ease as if they had been doing the honours of a drawing-room.
In spite of their religious enthusiasm, and the apostolic vocation which they attributed to themselves, it may easily be imagined that these three high-bred ladies, accustomed to all the refinements of luxury, should now and then have had their tempers a little ruffled by the hardships of their journey, and that their mutual harmony should have suffered somewhat in consequence. Their wish, therefore, to separate on their arrival at Taganrok was natural enough. Countess Guacher especially, having made less progress than her companions in the path of perfection, had often revolted against the austere habits imposed on her; but these ebullitions of carnal temper were always brief and transient; and on the day after her visit to the consul, when he returned to the port to announce that the podoroshni was ready, the boat and its passengers had disappeared, and no one could give any information about them.
II.
The apparition of these ladies in the Crimea threw the whole peninsula into commotion. Eager to make proselytes, they were seen toiling in their beguine costume, with the cross and the gospel in their hands, over mountains and valleys, exploring Tatar villages, and even carrying their enthusiasm to the strange length of preaching in the open air to the amazed and puzzled Mussulmans. But as the English consul had predicted, in spite of their mystic fervour, their persuasive voices, and the originality of their enterprise, our heroines effected few conversions. They only succeeded in making themselves thoroughly ridiculous not only in the eyes of the Tatars, but in those also of the Russian nobles of the vicinity, who instead of seconding their efforts, or at least giving them credit for their good intentions, regarded them only as feather-witted illuminatae, capable at most of catechising little children. The police, too, always prompt to take alarm, and having besides received special instructions respecting these ladies, soon threw impediments in the way of all their efforts, so that two months had scarcely elapsed before they were obliged to give up their roving ways, their preachings, and all the fine dreams they had indulged during their long and painful journey. It was a sore mortification for them to renounce the hope of planting a new Thebaid in the mountains of the Crimea. Madame de Krudener could not endure the loss of her illusions; her health, already impaired by many years of an ascetic life, declined rapidly, and within a year from the time of her arrival in the peninsula, there remained no hope of saving her life. She died in 1823, in the arms of her daughter, the Baroness Berckheim, who had been for some years resident on the southern coast, and became possessed of many documents on the latter part of a life so rich in romantic events: but unfortunately these documents are not destined to see the light.